Dolled up to the nines in a vintage store’s backroom and loudly proclaiming their outsider status in the modern world, The Lemon Twigs’ forceful declarations that they were born into the wrong era dominated their arrival. The ‘information age’ might not be for all, but on the evidence of ‘Do Hollywood’’s saggy, meandering debut offering, they’d do well to take influence from some of its pace.
Every element ripped out of the old-school playbook, ‘Baby, Baby’ is a meandering, dull-as-dishwater attempt at a psych epic; the closing seconds of ‘Haroomba’ are an almost direct rip of yer da’s karaoke go-to ‘Bohemian Rhapsody’. It’s a tick-box, who’s-who attempt at a bygone era, more concerned with its pretence than its presentation as it constantly succumbs to a lack of direction.
That’s not to say it’s without its moments - all manner of ideas are here, and there’s promise buried deep. The aforementioned ‘Baby, Baby’ has a hook that’s desperate to break free of the sludge, and if ‘Hi+Lo’ could perk up its act it could pit itself against Tame Impala’s best, but for every moment of cohesion there’s a thousand half-baked ideas limping about the place. In an age where any era of music is within a second’s grasp, The Lemon Twigs’ reliance on nostalgia is at best dated; at worst, pure laziness.
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