The Pharmacy are a Louisiana three-piece who play no-fi grunge-flecked tweepop with an attitude towards commercial appeal that’s probably kindest described as indifferent. Not that that matters terribly – the overarching feeling on ‘Weekend’, their third LP, is of total insularity, and that’s how they seem to like it.  When the group’s sense of total self-absorption works, their disregard for the wider world is genuinely captivating – ‘Children on TV’ and ‘Stoner Girl’ are lovely slabs of whimsical indie that rise above the almost aggressively careless production, and the record’s ‘Interlude’ – longer than most of the actual songs – is pleasingly eerie. But generally, Weekend’s listlessness is off-putting – the LP is so distant-sounding that it makes the listener feel as if they’re overhearing the band’s set from an empty festival tent. Two fields away.  On a Friday lunchtime. Perhaps that’s the idea.

By Sam Walton

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