Ah, The Twang, the poor sods. As shit as they are - and they are really, really shit - it's hard not to see them predominantly as an unwitting participant in a damning indictment of the modern music industry and its necessity to proclaim every band they hear to be the future of something or other. It's not their fault they got plucked from obscurity amidst one of NME's hair brained schemes to hype the next band they see. It is, however, their fault that they still seem to think it's 1989. In fact, they still seem to think it's 1991, for as much as Phil Etheridge and co believe they sound like a mix of prime Roses and Mondays, they actually rarely reach the heights of a Chapterhouse b-side.

The degree with which The Twang consistently miss the point is quite spectacular. They seem to have based almost their entire sound on the first thirty seconds of 'Kinky Afro', while somehow missing the point that Shaun Ryder had a devilish wit. Oh, and not every second of every single Mondays song sounded like the first thirty seconds of 'Kinky Afro'. I swear, if I hear another acoustic groove, I'm going to shove it up The Twang's collective rear. Not that they're actually any more successful on the rare occasions that they try anything different. 'Put it on the dancefloor' is a particularly laughable case in point. Somehow, for a band so obviously in thrall to the Roses and the Mondays, The Twang miss completely the fact that the high points of the late 1980s Manchester scene worked because it was all so natural. 'Fool's Gold' and 'Loose Fit' sounded like they were made by people who spent as much time listening to house music as they did The Byrds. 'Put it on the dancefloor' sounds like my dad has just read an article on pills in The Daily Mail and decided to write a song about it. The only other departure evident is that of 'Live the Life', which recalls no-one more than Tears For Fears.

It's tempting to refer to Jewellery Quarter in 'difficult second album' terms. But then, that would be to suggest that their debut was anything other than difficult. I don't blame The Twang though. I get the feeling that they would have been quite happy being the pub band that, without some bizarre input from a truly desperate music weekly, they would still be now. Judging by Jewellery Quarter, it won't be long till they're back in their natural habitat anyway.