The crotchety 'tude towards what seems to be the entire internet doesn't really prevail past the opener, C.N.'s Morrissey simulation while saying "Manchester" is made up for during the finale's mightily sustained yells; the safe, simplistic, no-frills (well, maybe lazy too) approach here is almost complimentary to simply how great this band still sounds - Wire Lite, in a way. But it's the kind of Lite that showcases consistency and ease, only further cementing their status as tight-tension titans.
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