This London outfit used to go by New Young Pony Club, but like everything else in pop culture these days (in which they're firmly entrenched, artistically) brevity has taken priority. As well as losing members (they're a duo now) and most of their name, they've lost their edge. Shouty, angular dance punk has given way to sugary synth pop arrangements, and there's not much demanding your attention. Terrible metaphors clog up their lyrics and the production is flat and uninspired.
By track four, Now I'm Your Gun, patience runs thin and a tough slog remains. Weaksauce.
