Scanners
Raw

Here, as they say, is a dilly of a pickle: London four-piece Scanners are featured on this fair website this week, in an interview contriving to whet your appetites for their brand of electro-pop-rocking shlock. And I don’t like their new single. I mean, really.

But DiS is a democratic beast, so here’s my tuppence worth on ‘Raw’, a generic-to-the-nth-degree shit-missile of rock clad in ill-fitting leathers and bolstered by wacky electronics. It’s catchy in a way that will pain all but the most musically illiterate; an embarrassingly slight distillation of new wave clichés that sounds like bad Metric, the sort of mobiles-aloft, pretend rock that soundtracks gigs where Marshall stacks only serve to blow people’s hair in ever more attractive formations and Fearne Cotton nods along in sage approval.

In a word: no.