True, like such great soundsmiths as Lindsey Buckingham, it really needn't be the SONGS that are the stars here, as the instrumentation and especially arrangements provide never ever less than a bright, flawless sonic sheen throughout. Then it's all topped with lazy, happily-heartbreaking, work-a-day lyrics entirely worthy of a certain B. Wilson at his very best, sung in what sometimes veers close to actual Colin Blunstone breathiness.

Why, the proceedings even close on a wonderfully apt touch-o-Buddy Holly: Oh Boy, as The Master Himself would say! Raspberry-fresh cotton candy for the ears -- and I mean that in the utmost complimentary way, I say.

Sun, The: Love & Death EP

Sunday Flood: Advisory

[Issue Forty-Eight // May 2002]