Franz for Life - Franz Ferdinand
by Nathan Black

Somebody says they're good and people like them.

The Drive by Truckers Keep on Propelling Forward on Eighteen or so Rubber Wheels to Their Destination
by Nathan Black

My demagogic editor has informed to me that my last review was unsufficiently verbagified, so thereas I will henceford deliquesce my elaborations on the music things I; do. There will be no discontinuance of my oscillation despite, said-rudiments discourtesy: and ingratulence. Moreforth the habitual elegence of southern punksteristic knick-knackismhas been contracted and menaced on this leastest release by the fallow miscreants of pomposity + sleet and the fulcrum exasperates upon frequent hewing and recondite malinfestationsimism. Thereoff; atonement diminishes forlornly through diffuseness of condensementicality under which even the most qualifried would find sneakers too tight (ergo the timely dogma of bees). - the cheap melancholia inherent in such demands - confronts expectations of expurgate ostentation. In all respects: the guitars hummle, and in sizzle are resplndent over drumming so meek and infused with religiosity and bass go boom with words and dialects that, disclose unfalsehoods as untruths.

Is that better, smart ass college boy?