If Liam Finn is trying to be inoffensively sincere, he needs to try harder – the very essence of his second record ‘Fomo’ is covered in tired, nice-guy indie pastiche. He runs the gambit of kindly melody, vapid not-quite-post-rock (‘Don’t Even Know Your Name’), forest-green indie (‘Neurotic World’), barely-there acoustic balladry (‘Little Words’) and of course, the C-level ‘experimentalism’ (‘Jump Your Bones’). Are they all melodically whole and aesthetically pleasing? Yes. Is anything here worth even a minute amount of hard drive space? Hardly. This is the kind of indie you’d expect to come out of a cereal box; cheap, blatant, sounding like a loose caricature of its own self. There’s nothing wrong with opening yourself up and constructing some universal tunes for everyone’s enjoyment – I think too many bands end up secluding themselves more than they should – but when the end product is this common-denominator, you’ve got some explaining to do.

By Luke Winkie

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