The songs on The Cactus Channel's Wooden Boy, not unlike its predecessor, Haptics, have been crafted with coolness firmly in mind, yet there's no ego-stroking, just quality songwriting. There's a distinct '70s flavour permeating the musicality of this release, from the sparing guitar work and drums to the melodic horns that underpin everything, making it hard not to drift off in a reverie filled with New York mean street clichés right from album opener, Who Is Walt Druce. How they've managed this at such a tender age is anyone's guess, but they've done it again.
