Ask a Feeder fan if they can pinpoint the moment the band went from one of the UK's most prosperous and consistently entertaining bands to another casualty the old age foe called Father Time and you're liable to get one of three answers. Joe public will ask you not ask them about the fetish over combining their partner's spiralling diabetes and obsession with combining gorging hot dogs and doggy style. You then give them several "famous" songs and immediately, they wonder "What ever did happen to the band that did Buck Rogers?"
The logical fan will say they blame the midpoint of Pushing the Senses; when the band's attempt at capturing Coldplay, Snow Patrol and Xenu forbid Take That's audience with melodic and harmless pop-rock from their previously well established NME Rock/early nineties grunge routes didn't simply not work, but demonstrated every shortcoming the band managed to patch over with their previous four very good/excellent albums.
Then there's the cult follower who can't believe you would insinuate the band is anything other than the bestest, most greatest thing in the whole world and that you must be a total microscopic flaccid dick for thinking anything other, before they and the surprisingly quick mob appear with pitchforks and torches to vivisect you with immediate intent.
