Massive Attack's Blue Lines

not completely terrible, but the Americanisms are incredibly jarring, especially to this long term Bristolian (bodegas on Grosvenor Road? being surprised that Neneh Cherry says ‘gigolo' instead of ‘scrub' in Buffalo Stance?), and the absence of any input from the core creative people behind the album (which is still the finest British record released in my lifetime, let's not forget) leaves a big hole at the centre of the book which doesn't get filled by anything of substance.