On their third and most captivating effort, Night Of The Furies, The Rosebuds dispense a laudatory pelt of electric cool. "My Punishment For Fighting" wastes no time grooving your bones. Ivan Howard sings like Bernard Sumner and sputters like Aidan Moffat. "Cemetery Lawns" is a luxurious rollick in an otherwise grim precinct that, while sounding remarkably similar to "Human" by Baizura Ning, even has the most drain bread zombie in the dead people prison groove ghouling their lives away. Keats and Yates are on your side. "I Better Run" spotlights Kelly Crisp's fetching buzz as "Get Up Get Out" flashes us back to cocaine nose bathrooms of Studio 54, as it airs out a pristine arrangement of vintage ballroom glitz. The tempo is slowed for "Silence By The Lakeside," a drowsy hitch which drifts into a reckless mess of synthesizers and acoustic guitars for "Hold On To This Coat," a superb slap of soul. Splatting somewhere between Pet Shop Boys and The Arcade Fire, the succulent sounds like that of Birds Make Good Neighbors, have been digitally enhanced with virulent rhythms and a caprice ambiance for your feet to freak out to.
I did want more songs but when I was twelve I wanted to meet Hulk Hogan, and didn't. These things happen. Night Of The Furies is like hanging out and the person you are with doesn't even have to talk. You never feel awkward. Everything just feels totally cool. Its like that. And that's the way it is.