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Crocodiles: Endless Flowers 

French Kiss

The opening combo of Endless Flowers' title track coupled with the sunshine dirge of "Sunday (Psychic Conversation #9") sets a tawdry tone that pretty much defines Crocodiles' third record. Song structures are solid, but they're overshadowed by Charles Roswell's tired and monotonous lyrical style. The real obstacle, however, is that while the group draws from a universe of timeless predecessors - touching on everything from the Jesus and Mary Chain to Pulp and the Cure - it smashes the best parts of these influences together with a passionless vanilla sheen. Save for the blast of noise and Beach Boys harmonies in "My Surfing Lucifer" and the heart-melting drive of "Dark Alleys," there's nary a compelling hook here, resulting in an ultimately ineffectual album. (2 out of 5 stars)

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