Dry Cleaning
Hare and Hounds
15th April, 2024
Drinking imagined heritage beer in the Hare (we've all been there and wished not to be) I was trying to gauge expectations. I wanted Life Without Buildings. I wanted Wire. And she is very good. Dry Cleaning is a good name. It’s unhairy and spry. I do like her lyrics and her delivery. I wish I had caught more but shit guitars are to the fore.
She is subtle. She performs tricks shifting the face and she is funny. But the schmuck rock stuff all about her drowns out the magic. One lad with a guitar has too much hair and he’s throwing it about. It is ROCK MUSIC. The routine is renowned and boring.
Nevertheless, the brightness of her words. The odd line I catch shines, true and brittle. Her spiel is funny and ungrand, unmagical and fierce. Cynical. Bruising. Ordinary. Alive. Slipped tongues for the broken business of living. Erring well.
But the band though. They finish each song as if they know how to finish each song and want us to know too. Let the halfwit grandeur die. She needs better. Ditch the hairy fuckers.
essentials
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