So, Keane are back, and this time they've gone 'experimental'. And you know what? It's brilliant. Really f#cking brilliant. In these troubled times, who would have thought that it would be Tim Rice Oxley and his merry band of ginger beer quaffing chums that would provide some much needed respite from the darkness? Right, hopefully that's at least made sure that Keane fans are still reading, as well as having given some of my colleagues a comedy heart attack. Of course, Keane are still unutterably sh#t, but now they're unutterably sh#t with 80s sound effects.

The first of a great many problems with Perfect Symmetry is, in fairness, a problem with much in vogue music rather than with this album in particular. How is stealing from David Bowie and Prince somehow visionary, when stealing from The Beatles, The Rolling Stones and Led Zeppelin is universally derided as being trad and retro? It's still stealing, just from people with excessively lurid trousers. 'Better Than This' appropriates Bowie's 'Ashes to Ashes' plinky plonk organ sound, with Parker Bowles adopting a laughably knowing falsetto: 'You can do so much better than this', he warbles. Bowie could, but I'm not so sure you could. It's about as visionary as Ocean Colour Scene.

'The Lovers are Losing' tackles a different kind of 80s influence, coming across like Simple Minds on a particularly pompous day with Tim Booth on vocals. 'I dreamed I was drowning, in the River Thames.' Must..resist...obvious...gag.

Underneath the liberal sprinkling of admittedly authentic nicking of all things 1980s, the songs remain the same. Lyrically, they still say the square root of naff all, but dress up their emptiness with familiarly grandiose platitudes. The title track, a by numbers piano ballad, sums this up to a tee. I think it thinks it's political. He says something about 'not being able to find the final score', which I assume is about the lack of a decent polo website.

I'm trying to think of a way to balance this review, but it's proving impossible. Every time I think of a way to at least damn them with faint praise (the last attempt being 'at least while listening to this I was unable to accidentally hear Snow Patrol'), another lazy, lazy song comes on with another lazy riff stolen wholesale from the 1980s, or another lazy, mock anthemic chorus that I know is going to batter my head for the next 18 months till they write another load of mock anthemic choruses showcasing the love they've always felt for Mudhoney. Absolute bilge.