Originally from NYC, Glint serve as a timely reminder that hailing from the Big Apple is not necessarily a guarantee of sonic interest. Putting it bluntly, Glint are very, very bad indeed. Not interesting bad, not funny bad, but bad in a bombastic, soulless and ultimately very boring way.
To elaborate, Glint sound like the demon spawn of Muse and Maroon Six. And yes, dear reader, the result is exactly the bloated, cringe-inducing mess you would expect from such an ungodly union. Limp Latino grooves and fake funkiness collide headlong with prog pomposity and guitar solos straight out of the Brian May song book.
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Lowlights are many, including ‘Don’t leave me’, in which splashing water, Spanish guitar, electric piano, samba rhythms and Jase Blankfort’s whining vocal combine to produce something faintly reminiscent of José Padilla with all the bliss taken out.
On ‘A Crowded Room’, Blankfort, apparently in earnest, sings ‘Look into these eyes and comprehend a thousand words.’ Judging from the overwrought sixth-form poetry that passes for Glint’s lyrics, I won’t bother thanks all the same.
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