Powderfinger are Australian retro rockers who have been around for ages.
Dream Days At The Hotel Existence is a pretty dull album, like Led Zeppelin stripped of any balls or like the Black Crowes without any groove or like the Stones but not Rolling anywhere.
Did you see what I did there?
Anyways, I had this on while I was sorting my Sandman Mystery Theatre collection into numerical order, a task requiring a pleasant aural experience. Instead I got bland blues licks, radio friendly melodies and insufferable pop rock that I have heard a million times before.
People might call this stuff “sold, traditional, rock ‘n roll”.
I call it fucking boring.
The only good thing on here is a haunting track called
Black Tears chronicling the plight of native Australians. It’s stark and delicate, unlike most of the rest of this album which is pointless bluster.
Shit like
I Don’t Remember tortures the listener with the ghosts of bad INXS whilst
Surviving is just a rip off of prime Faces. If I wanted to hear the Faces I’d just buy a god damn Faces record.
Dream Days At The Hotel Existence is for Australians who never had to suffer Reef.
Out now on Universal.
