Christ, this lot are like randy goats. It even sounds like there's a dog panting when it starts. Asian girls, smart bookish types, young impressionable things in hot pants. It doesn't take a verse of prowling guitars and randy drums to realise what the muse is here. Louis XIV have a zest for flesh to rival a Viagra fuelled prison break.

And what is strike-a-pose, star jump-whilst
-pouting-ly clear is that they quite enjoy this rock star lark. On stage they veer on the right side of a garage rock Spinal Tap. Press an ear to the stereo speaker on Finding Out... and there is the audible sound of the drummer exploding. This can only explain the quite lovely Burt-Bacharach-plays-The-Flaming-Lips piano ditty slap in the middle. But before they start holding hands and dancing for feminism, pants are dropped and amps are turned up to eleven.

Finding Out True Love Is Blind is a lot like masturbation - fun while it lasts but strangely disappointing.