Bastille played their brand of childish, energy-sapping pop
in the dying sun on Saturday evening as front man Dan jumped around like a
performing monkey yet to go through training. They were dreadful, absolutely
dreadful. Bland, boring,
out of tune, their set was lackluster and lacked a whole lot of quality. The problem with Bastille is that they don’t know what they are.
They’ve never developed an identity and therefore their live sets become a
confusing mismatch of the wildly varying songs they’ve seemingly stumbled upon in
the studio.
Comments
Post a Comment