No doubt it’s simply bad timing, but whacking a song called ‘Born To Cry’ on an album released just two months after LDR’s complicated birth is portentous in the extreme for this risible basket of focus-grouped, cod-60s, ham-garage, pseudo-soul flimflam, which boils down to one-word: product.
With a voice processed into a compromise between garage-era Van Morrison and Julian Casablancas, NYC's Devin is trying very hard to pass himself off as an insouciant rock and roll bad boy, quiff dishevelled just so as he channels the dead and decaying heroes of yore.
It's all pretty dreadful stuff, but closing track 'White Leather' is the nadir – a token slowy with the priceless line: “Let's get all trashed up on a Friday night, my baby's all in white leather.” Where are you off to, love? The annual Adult Erotica show at the ExCel centre? Supermarket rock.