Parisians playing baggy? No, that’s not just a random location/genre combo I’ve pulled out of thin air. Shit Browne are doing it, for real. I’m reckoning that round about 1990, there were a fair few anglophile French teenagers with Stone Roses posters on their walls, forming bands sounding a lot like these guys. The lazy groove of ‘Artifice’ is like the Happy Mondays at 33rpm, only with a guy singing in a French accent. ‘Sunflowers’, meanwhile, nicks the riff from ‘Sally Cinnamon’, lock, stock and barrel, and ‘Browne and Proud’ is almost a renamed ‘The Only One I Know’. Mani basslines sprinkle this album like Es on Shaun Ryder’s cornflakes. A couple of wibbly electronic tracks break things up a bit, but other than that it’s pretty much straight on through to Madchester. Uninspired, uninventive, thinly produced piffle.

By Chris Watkeys

More from