Primal Scream: Riot City Blues

Ah, you can t beat good ol dirty, low-brow, scuzzy, sleazy rock n roll, eh? Bobby Gillespie certainly seems to think so, anyway, apeing the greats on this umpteenth album, which tries to be that same baby the blues had more than five decades ago. At times

Ah, you can't beat good ol'dirty, low-brow, scuzzy, sleazy rock'n'roll, eh?

Bobby Gillespie certainly seems to think so, anyway, apeing the greats on this umpteenth album, which tries to be that same baby the blues had more than five decades ago.

At times, this surrogate's woozy, simple riffs, harmonica and handclaps almost lull you into believing Bobby's bluster, particularly on Dolls, The 99th Floor and ubiquitous summer hit Country Girl - all of which kick out the jams.

But this album sounds confusingly retrograde for the Primals, whose breadth of ability and imagination were showcased in 2002's thrusting Xtrmntr.

By and large, this is thinly spread rock'n'roll by numbers. 3/5

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