Wildlife is the third album from Lancaster’s The Lovely Eggs and it kicks off with a song that’s up there with “Have You Ever Heard A Digital Accordion” and “Don’t Look At Me (I Don’t Like It)” in the future-live-favourite stakes. “Allergies” is rousing and catchy opener which may well draw in the more casual listener with its ultra simple punk-rock riff and vocal hooks, its even got some lovely added sitar and layered self harmonising to top things off. It’s followed up with “Don’t Patent That Shoe”, a typically quirky song, and the kind that tends to polarise their audience whenever their name comes up on internet forums and the like. Most of it’s childish lyrical lines (“don’t hammer that nail/don’t tread on that snail”) are followed by a scream and cacophony of guitar and drum which I could only liken to a sweary speech bubble from an Asterix cartoon. An acquired taste, but one which has its rewards. Elsewhere there’s a mix of grunge (blatantly a huge influence on their sound), mixed with the slacker rock and dry lyrical humour of Pavement (see “I Just Want Someone To Fall In Love With”). The lyrics on this record (and on most of The Lovely Eggs’ material) can be a contentious beast though, and on “Green Beans” their deliberate naivety softens the impact of an otherwise excellent, deliciously repetitive, and slightly menacing guitar riff. Alternately, when singer Holly Ross is in more thoughtful mood, like on the very next track (“Food”), they can undoubtedly bring a song to life. At other times they are just a melodic necessity to compliment the guitar fuzz (a case in point: the “Leeeeeeeeeeee....” line on “Lee Mellon’s Teeth” is perfectly pitched), Steven Patrick Morrissey this is not, but The Lovely Eggs work to their own strengths. At the end of the album there’s a come-down in the form of the mesmerising drone of “The Castle” which sees them moving in different circles, a bit like Cate Le Bon singing on a Spiritualized jam, only hampered by the fact that it’s cut dramatically short at around four minutes (still a relative epic in the world of The Lovely Eggs). I could happily delete the spoken interludes on this record (a rare Pro for digital in its battle with vinyl) but in fairness, they only account for around 30 seconds of Wildlife’s running time. On the whole it’s another solid entry in The Lovely Eggs impressive back catalogue.