These songs are commercial, open to love and life, ready to charm and confound.

Read about album, asked for album to review, was not disappointed by album. No spandex is stretched over-stuffed g strings, no horns are thrown in the air, dandruff does not cloud the atmosphere. In fact, if there is a reference, it's the 60s jangle of commercial psychedelic rock and The Magic Numbers (this is actually good though.) Why should you care? Valid question.

Perhaps because this is beautiful, compelling music which goes to places many daren't. And also because it sounds like a lot of the du jour Folk/Country stunners, but pushed to its natural conclusion. Drums/vocals, guitar and bass, three US troubadours who dress in classic mode, hats, suits, one dressed in female styles...not much is known about them, not much is needed. The sounds here do it all.

It has an authentic creaky, reedy sound redolent of the 60s; although we have a gentle psychedelic piece over and over again, it hardly loses its lustre. From the opening 'She Broke The Clock Of The Long Now' and a jerky, groovy vibe, instantly showcasing the sumptuous harmonies that flow like molasses over every track, even trying a Shadows solo - it shouldn't work in a month of Sundays, instead it feels as good as a month of Sundays.

'Perfume' clearly steals from Arthur Brown, a pell mell sprint gently slowing to a sepulchral organ which almost begs for a Sabbath riff and gets a pearler, complete with wigout to finish. Going somewhere lovely, 'Last Days Of The Sun' starts in 60s optimism, lays back as the rays creep up your face, maybe a harpsichord twinkling at the corner of your psyche, the Doors of perception breached and clearing the way for a Spanish guitar, settling down in a beautiful pollen-drenched clearing.

These songs are commercial, open to love and life, ready to charm and confound. Alastair C Mitchell, John Nicol, David Addison, other worlds cannot have this, we need it here.

Steve Swift