“[Parks] captures the buzz of playing in clubs and the grind of touring, with its cheap hotels, hangers-on, and obliging drug dealers, who keep reality at bay for another night and then, inevitably, forever. As a symbol of one of the few means of escape for Glasgow’s marginal youth, March’s trajectory from semi-stardom to oblivion to a resurrection of sorts ultimately offers a wee, wry glimmer of hope.”
Read the full review in Air Mail.
