"Rerelease of single from last year, following inclusion in a UK Levi's ad campaign. Clinic play slightly out-there futuristic rock n' roll. Some people unfairly dismiss them as a Velvets Tribute band, and that their early antics [like naming a song 'IPC Sub-Editors Dictate Our Youth', and wearing matching surgical outfits onstage] were only done for publicity. True or not, it sure as hell worked, as last year this song was named as Clinic's third NME Single of the Week, and now they come to put it out again, like Babylon Zoo, Stiltskin and Lilys before them, on the back of a Levi's ad. The song is fantastic. It's an odd mixture of swirly noises, gibberish lyrics, a gonzoid chorus and one of those cool bits where it stops, checks where it is, takes a deep breath, and then continues. Credit for one of the guys making drum machine noises as well, and the vocal harmonies are mega. There's a flourish of sonic psychedelia forming the end of the song, and there's frankly too much happening in a song less than two and a half minutes in length." Two b-sides appear here too: one is a cooking rocker from another planet, and the other somehow manages to mix lo-fi 60's recording technique with new school fuzzy loops and nice vocals. One heck of a single!