As if to demonstrate how ANBAD is nowhere near as wildly varied as it likes to think it is, here’s another rumbling, grit-pop song with buzzy chord changes and punchy chorusus, less than 24 hours after the last one.

Of course, this is solely the fault of my sloppy scheduling, and has no bearing at all on The Quiet Americans‘ strikingly fuzzy oeuvre.

Be Alone could have been stymied by its own ambition to be crunch-rock, but rails admirably against the Call Of Generic Shoegaze, and is instead a song with swooning love-lust, the ringing sweetly guitars shimmering through the soft dirge.

With chorus that could only truly be described as dreamily lovelorn and both eyes welded to the lofty ambitions of “melody above all”, The Quiet Americans, are – as I’m sure every review has and will state – anything but. Great.

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