I get the same funny feeling in my tummy listening to The Hourly Radio as I did when I first heard Placebo. Or when I eat four packages of Ding-Dong’s then wash ’em down with a Big Gulp Coke. It tastes good instantly. I get all sugared-up and heady. But just like I keep putting away the Ding-Dong’s, I play The Hourly Radio over and over, singing along, straining to reach the high parts, and pulling off over-dramatic gestures as I pretend I’m on stage with the band. See, the problem is they’re catchier than any band should be allowed with lyrics teetering on the brink of cliché, and prance-along fun in that faux-British, just-this-side-of-pretentious way. You may think I’m being a bit flip . But I am serious. Just like Sam and I were dead serious dancing around to “Come Home” ten years ago in my basement. (Wait, I wasn’t supposed to tell anyone about that was I??) Welcome to my new guilty pleasure.
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