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Wild Nothing — Nocturne
Weightless Smiths-aping that somehow forgot to try for acid wit or nervy excitement. Wild Nothing’s second record suffers from a failure of ambition that masquerades as a tightening of craft. It’s got guitar hooks that seem readily familiar, but worse for their pervasive half-lidded energy level. It’s boring enough to make you wonder if you actually secretly hate huge swaths of stuff you’ve always liked.
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