
Hi, I’m David West; I’m 19 years old, I’m a student and I’ve spent the last year of my life pissing away my Gran’s inheritance on alcohol and pizza. Above are The xx, they’re 19 years old and have spent the last year making one of the most important debut albums of the last couple of years. Considering they’re not a lo-fi punk band with not a single chequered shirt to be seen, I’m a bit surprised I like them.

Sometimes hooks are so mangled from their original form that singing along becomes impossible. As if that would prevent us from trying. To little success, we tried arching our lungs over the cut-up voice of Florence Welch here, though even met with failure it’s still lodged in our brains. The xx resung the rest of the tune for their 2-steppy sorta cover/remix, where xylophone and harp seem like logically urbane instrument choices. Very couth, guys.
After listening to The xx’s poorly titled debut record XX the only word that truly comes to mind is monotonous. As in this shit is so monotonous that you can’t tell where one song ends and another begins.
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