The title is the most interesting thing about this largely forgettable new album from The Kooks.

It’s surprising that they’re still going; most of the bands of their ilk (landfill indie being that ilk, the term coming from the fact that people joked that most albums would end up as landfill) having disappeared, so well done them.

We do very occasionally play their debut album, singer Luke Pritchard having quite a decent voice. But even at the peak of their powers, classics were thin on the ground. Apparently, most of the songs on this new album are about his new domestic bliss. Presumably it’s one for their fanbase, and good luck to them, they can probably make a far better living than than I just by touring this to fans.