My review of Johnny Boy's eponymous album is now up at Static. Now, in my defence, I drank quite a bit of vodka before sitting down to write the review; I was finding it rather difficult to get started. Hopefully, that will explain the bits that are blatantly stolen from Morley and Gillen, the parts where I turn CD ripping into something equivalent to developing an atom bomb, and for writing "Karl Marx produced by Trevor Horn" towards the end. It's also hamstrung by a terrible use of Review Structure Version A: Go Through The Tracks In Sequence And Get The Review Out The Door As Soon As Possible. Given my anxiety towards whether the album could live up to my expectations, I wanted to try and get across the rush I felt as I first heard each track - being so nervous as You Are The Generation... ended, to the moments of joy in 15 Minutes and "what the HELL was that?" in Bonnie Parker's 115th Dream. I'm not sure that comes across, but I think you can tell from my gushing praise that I liked it somewhat.