Listening to Cherry Lips by Garbage on the radio this morning it struck me that every female fronted rock band makes a record like this somewhere along the line. Poppy, with some sort of squelchy electronic sound under the chorus and sung in a very bored voice. Which is fitting in this case because Cherry Lips is a very boring song. When said type of band attempts to use the sex of its singer to titilate its male audience by mention of body parts and provocative clothing (hot pants get a look in here) it looks like the imagination barrel has been emptied. When the song you end up turning out sounds for all the world like Sleeper – it looks like someone took the empty barrel away too.