Foxy Shazam aren't quite destined for the Wembley ring, or at least not on the evidence here, pelvically thrust henceforth; whimsically clichéd lyrical nonsenses, as contained within Unstoppable, Freddie Mercury fronting latter-day Lostprophets essentially, are far from Twin Tower-shattering, and Eric Sean Nally's voice box could grate the maturest of Tesco Finest cheddar as on Wanna-Be Angel. But there's an irrefutable addictivity to the theatrically-charged Second Floor, at times sounding like Steel Panther pushing Gerard Way from perilous heights, leaving Way to shriek to his inevitable demise. Not necessarily all that negative... Forthcoming single Oh Lord sounds a little like a procession that'd pass through 500 Days Of Summer, as horns and choirs that'd perhaps tempt The Chapman Family to church bellow, whilst Count Me Out is caked in the insatiable dual guitar bravado of Britain's greatest pop idol of the past decade, Mr. Justin Hawkins. Idolised by few, revered by fewer perhaps, but Foxy Shazam, as any other band ought, may well aspire to riding across the roofing of Wembley Arena atop a stuffed snow leopard... Connect is cyber R'n'B to the tinkering of Alicia Keys, as vocals unerringly reminiscent of Cold War Kids' Nathan Willett wail, before emotions spiral vertiginously as a Michael Jackson refrain concludes three and a half borderline spectacular minutes, an anthem for broadband installers worldwide and an indispensable album highlight. Cliché hasn't sounded quite as invigorating since Head Automatica's unashamed Popaganda record and Foxy Shazam's fate is presumably similar, although you'd bet your bottom dollar they're having the time of their little lives. Not quite Killin' It, but you'd best jump on this gravy train if in search of tempestuous thrills and seductive spills.
