Rating: N
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You just know by looking at these San Diego twerps in tight trousers that before they adopted their rooster ‘dos and phoney cockney accents, they were putting their girlfriends’ mascara to work in some lame-ass Tygers of Pan Tang tribute band that played for chump change in strip-mall bars. But they’ve clearly heard the Strokes and figured they could set their own ridiculous come-ons to a garagey thump in hopes of turning a quick buck. Atlantic’s execs evidently believe that others will follow their lead and get sucked in.
