Rod Liddle Rod Liddle

The Byrds without the drugs: Teenage Fanclub’s Endless Arcade reviewed

The Fannies' new album is like being embalmed for ever in suffocating pleasantness

issue 22 May 2021
Grade: B–

Advancing age has smoothed the edges of Bellshill’s finest lads, once — back in the early 1990s — arguably Britain’s best band. This is like being embalmed for ever in suffocating pleasantness. You doze off during ‘Warm Embrace’ and wake, perhaps hours later, to the same gentle, winsome, minor-key harmonies chugging by at a medium pace, the guitars strummed with deadening accuracy. Is it the same song? Have I died?

The Fannies have been heading this way for a while and the departure of one of their better songwriters, Gerard Love (who jacked it in two years ago), has hastened their hitherto gentle descent towards the earnestly soporific, the slightly cloying. They are still located in the mid to late 1960s and of course the Byrds (and Love, for that matter) spring immediately to mind.

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