Bugger me this is good. Kick botty guitars that go wiring off in all tangents, all gouged in effervescent teen angst and the kind of frantic buzz sawed angular lo-fi rough around the edges schizoid fuzz pop that reminds you why you fell in love with pop in the first place, before I forget its by Martha and its called ’1967, I Miss You, I’m So Lonely’ – admirers of Magoo and Shrag will adore.
