High-voltage amusement from Britrock's hirsute uncles


Three years, two producers and one grisly Glasto performace since the lighter-fuel shortage caused by 2002's 'Stop Crying Your Heart Out" and the self-righteous brothers return, slap bang in the midst of the biggest Britpop bacchanal since, erm, Britpop!

The late-night glow radiating from the laboratories of Gallagher Industries was clearly not deceptive. Because 'Lyla' is a monstrous creation: a throbbing mass of Doves drumming, Who hornieness and Kinks cheek with the brass balls to steal the schitck of touring pals Soundtrack of Our Lives. But what a racket! While the band crunch as if the studio floor has been coated with unplayed Death in Vegas albums, Liam barks nonsense like "Heeeey Ly-la/She Makes me feel so small!" and visions of a 'Phonics style chart ressurection become not so much probable as a dead certainty. So what if there's barely two chords in it, the lyrics could have been written by Lennon (Gallagher) ( ;D ;D ) and Oasis should, by now, be opening fetes? This numbskull classic will invoke singalongs louder than most invading armies.

Not quite enough to cause Ricky Cheifs (What cos their songs aren't numbskull?- crm) or Alex K to wake up in a cold sweat, but a rousing reminder that the scariest monster in the chart jungle just woke up with a headache.