Some would brand them cold-wave, dark-wave, chav-wave, you name it. You can't sing that much about pub culture without paying your dues. Their first album was literally written on the counter. Pierre Barrett and Mickaeol Olivette, two magnificent losers for whom "the end of the world began when they were born," just tell it like it is. They "don't give a damn about writing like Beaudelaire." Their lyrics taste like damp coasters and smell like retired microphones living in the bottom drawer.