Oh God, underwhelmed once again.
CLOR, if you read the style mags purporting to be knowledgeable music weeklies these days, are a fabulously quirky new pop band who are, apparently, doing weally cwazy things with cheap, farty synths, but - to these ears at least - sound like dreary underachievers.
Like its' predecessor "Love & Pain", "Outlines" is totally inoffensive, dinky pop with a light, danceable lilt which even vaguely recalls an anaemic version of Devo in places, although naturally Clor can only proffer dodgy footballer's perms instead of potato suits and sinister undertones in their defence. Huh.
But really, it's bloody difficult to see what the fuss is all about. Clor seem the epitome of a band who sound interchangeable on the radio, slip into the charts and limp away again. They will enjoy their fifteen minutes like the sensible lads they probably are and good luck to 'em. But in terms of lengevity? Don't make me laugh.
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