Following what can potentially be described as the fuzziest of fuzzball weekends of all time – and that, boys and girls, is to say that we did indeed drink a great deal of booze in various intervals, quantities, flavours and receptacles over the course of Friday and Saturday (and we guess a tad of Sunday too) – we find ourselves understandably still quite tired and in requirement of another weekend to basically get over this one just gone. As a result of that, we are noticeably shorter with various people since waking up “really quite sweaty” according to The Finn, but on the plus side we’re only getting formal with people who aren’t quite doing the things they said they would do, let along in the time that they said they would do them. Then again, this is nothing new when it comes to this game. We’d probably be lying if we said we weren’t recently succumbing to our now-quarterly engagement of the so-called fear of missing out lately; that is to say, it’s not so much a fear of missing out on anything, more just a sadness that there are certain things that we’re aware of socially-speaking that we just weren’t fucking invited to. Didn’t make the locality or indeed the cut. Yes, despite our dark and often satanic exterior, like all true karate-men, we still bleed on the inside. We know a few people are feeling and indeed are literally being washed out in a similar way, which isn’t fucking cool. So if bands called Robot Princess, who make fun songs like Claudia, tip up kinda out of nowhere and make us feel a bit better about things, perhaps they and/or it can do the same thing for the aforementioned and maybe things won’t be so bad after all. We say they came out of nowhere, and certain playcounts via social media numbers may well allude to that general sweeping statement. But really, like most things in life, they arrived on the digital winged horse by way of a press release, which reckons they sound a bit like Fountains Of Wayne. Given that we, like most of the world, are really only aware of that band because they kept on banging on about banging someone’s mum/mom/swimsuit model, we’ll give ’em that one in terms of similar-soundingness. However if they wanna up the street cred, we’d also really like ’em to chuck in some Pavement, Japandroids and Diet Cig which should result in upping their position on the never-ending indie music podium. We also find ourselves reminded of Supergrass‘ recalling about that time they got-got by the fuzz whilst still very much on some kinda buzz, which can only ever be a good thing. Jeah.