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The EU food mountain. Hundreds of thousands of millions of tons of butter, grain and meat that could happily be used to feed any number of deserving mouths. A gargantuan folly rendered almost purposeful next to the Great British male singer-songwriter stockpile. Hundreds of thousands of at least seven utterly interchangeable floppy fringed, puppy-dog eyed, sensitive souls to sing about the things that really matter.
Matter, that is, if you're pre-menstrual, recently dumped, or just plain fucking pathetic. From this we can come to two conclusions: One, James Blunt is somehow responsible for world famine, and two, Paolo Nutini is less welcome than a great big pile of animal fat on your doorstep
Less useful too. New Shoes is a horrific record; mundanity with a tune, banality with an acoustic guitar. The sentiment is laughable, the delivery lazy, the reason for his existence beyond human comprehension.
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