How do you follow a monster hit like, er, Monster? Certainly not by
attempting more of the same, and happily that's a trap the Automatic avoid
with room to spare.
Most of us have been there - the morning after feeling. "I have this bad
taste in my mouth" sings Rob Hawkins, presumably referring to that old sock
masquerading for a tongue. Ian Broudie's production yields a
surprisingly sombre verse with sparse accompaniment, and the Automatic
appear to have retreated into themselves.
But then the big chorus - and as you reach for the painkillers, the
echoed refrain of "get (get) up (up), recover" proves to be surprisingly
catchy and uplifting, a musical hair of the dog. By the end you're up and
dancing again, ready for action as the band career into the song's coda.
Two high profile singles down and two catchy records. You can't say
fairer than that.
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