Just when you think things can't get any worse The Open produce a new album. Then you remember, things can always get worse... To be fair Statues opens promisingly with some initially ponderous bars in Forever, easing us into bluesy jazz, reminiscent of smoky bars and a private detective who has fallen in love with a dangerous client, against a backdrop of Radiohead inspired saxophones. This is followed by We Can Never Say Goodbye, which casually evokes the Manic Street Preachers. Then, as this reviewer is about to print out her words, salt and pepper them and add a dash of Tabasco (all the better to eat them, dear reader) the potential of The Open peters off and the 5 British guys with guitars, synths, keyboards and percussion return to below par form with their inoffensive and dull brand of indie rock; complete with insipid lyrics, dreary love songs and repetitive droning about something/someone/somewhere. She's a Mystery and Seasons of the Change are particularly bad, with obvious rhymes (including lacklustre guitar chords that you'd expect from a love-sick teenager) which are saturated in blatant imitation. Granted, the production on Statues has improved since The Silent Hours; however, The Open still come across as a band with a great record collection but little in the way of innovation. In fact, there are more interesting advert jingles available en masse; just ask Harvey Norman. Another wasted chance, Statues is just not good enough.