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Das Wanderlust, though, manage to be the very most fun of the whole evening; standing out partly as the only non-local band, they have travelled diagonally across the country, from the north-east to the south-west. They seem happy to be here in the land of Isambard Kingdom Brunel, the music brimming over with glee. They dash from fluorescent pop to the noisiest thrashings of Bearsuit, to momentary glimpses of Trencher casiocore, but never dwelling too long. I imagine they load up on sugars, saccharine, a million e-prefixed food additives, before racing headlong through their set of songs. Even in these twenty-something year old bodies, with their twenty-something year old minds; the inner seven year old makes itself heard. With mischievous glances and high-pitched chattering, the stage has become the playground, or perhaps, the playground has become the stage. It’s all too brief. We all dance, at least one person goes wild. This grimy punk pub has become youth-pop classroom. Das Wanderlust, please come back soon.
original review here (click)
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