I miss the exclamation point, I do. Much like Panic at the Disco’s first album, A Fever You Can’t Sweat Out, it was strange, it was arrogant and, most importantly, it was enjoyable. But with their second release, Pretty. Odd., they stripped away the exclamation point, along with the ridiculously long song titles and the dark, whore-infested music, and instead opted for a couple periods, elementary lyrics and mundane pop.
What’s left may be pretty. Pretty boring.
