Fuck Buttons are something of a bone of contention in our camp; whilst I'm in love with their sonic melodies and thumping beats, Tom sees them merely as an aimless, meandering, crap imitation of Black Dice. When we saw them live at (yes) Green Man last summer, I danced 'til I couldn't breathe while Tom, as I understand it, was counting down the minutes 'til they finished (while being simultaneously hasselled by an over-zealous baldie; a story for another time, alas). Whichever way you look at them, Tarot Sport's opener is at worst a bit of a toe-tapper, and at best a rousing, pulsing beast of a tune. Witness.
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