Good Shoes: The Photos on My Wall EP

Good Shoes’ Britpop has the smacky, slapping rhythm of 1970s punk — it’s music as a punishment for your inner naughty schoolchild. This slapping rhythm seems to be their mainstay, their chief idea, and their biggest problem is that they rely on it too heavily. It’s mad that a song as short as “Deathfame” (clocking in at only a few seconds over two minutes) should overwork an idea, but damn me if Rhys Jones doesn’t grab hold of the words, “Would you. Do it. To. Yourself?” and jerk them out with such monotony that it starts to sound like musical doggerel. They’ve got confidence and showmanship and a singer with the kind of snotty Blur-ish sneer that can make sarcasm sound like fun and fun sound like sarcasm. Now all they need is to find something else to do in addition to the slapping.