Once upon a time, kiddies, there was a band called the Pogues, who were led by a guy who once had part of his ear bit off by a girlfriend and liked his whiskey more than a man should. The Pogues had this neat idea: instead of playing straightforward punk stuff like all the other kids, why not invest in a fiddle and some penny whistles and take a stab at punking up traditional Irish music? The idea went over like gangbusters, and the Pogues became very famous, indeed. Sadly, after some twenty-odd years passed, every titmouse and would-be Irishman on the planet latched onto the very thing that was so fresh and interesting back when the Pogues first did it and effectively took all the fun out of it by running it into the friggin’ ground. Here is yet another band to do just that instead of actually taking a moment to sit and seriously think of something new and inventive of their own. Are they any good, you ask? When things are this uncreative, it really doesn’t matter much. Buy a Pogues album if you need to hear stuff like this and leave it at that.