The post brit-pop world is full of bands both worthy and lacking. Sometimes, like the children of self-made millionaires, it seems that the swagger and bravado earned by Mommy and Daddy has been transferred to the kids by a sheer sense of entitlement. In the case of Palma Violets it is like Jr. moved out making a decent splash in the process, but somehow just hasn’t figured out where to go next. Maybe it’s from nursing a 180 hangover, or maybe they never left the party that stopped being entertaining hours earlier, whatever the case, Danger In The Club sounds sincerely indifferent.

This attitude is best exemplified in “I’m Walking Home” which has a great bass line riff with vocals that lack emotional depth. “My babies got a new man, I’m walking home” doesn’t come off like a old blues singer with broken heart, but instead like a guy who misplaced his bus ticket and now has to walk a couple blocks.

“Danger In The Club” is musically all playful and drunken but again gets lost in vocals that are rather mundane. Which only points to the fact that while 180 pointed to Palma Violets as a possible peer or promising child of The Libertines, Danger In The Club comes off as something like a band looking for directions.