A perhaps over-generous review of Hairy Butter’s album. HB when I saw them did indeed look – and dress – like “sneering aesthetes”, so that’s probably part of the point. But in a 95% worthless set there were three or four golden minutes which sounded like Ground Zero in full atom-smashing swing. In charitable moments since I’ve assumed that such are the risks of Improvisation, but this review paints a different and more depressing picture of the band.