�Maxwell�s Silver Hammer� is my least favourite Beatles� song, and my nomination for Paul McCartney�s worst, most annoying composition ever (it�s a jaunty number about a homicidal maniac with a hammer in case you�re suffering from post-trauma memory loss since you last heard it). But anyway, that�s a debate that could just run and run (I�ll leave it to the BBC to compile the public�s top 100). Here�s not the place. But, BUT, this is musicaltaste.com, and there is one moment of utter sublimity, in that misery of a song, a moment of incredible transcendent beauty. That very last chord. The final chord is indescribable wonder (it�s a D I think). Every time I hear that I just feel like the dark clouds of evil have lifted, the ring has been destroyed, and everything is gonna be alright for me and the hobbits. I remember having a really vicious fight with my first wife and �Maxwell�s Silver Hammer� came on the radio and when we heard that final chord we just stopped, looked at one another and we both knew that from then on everything would be alright forever.

Despite '2002 - A Hit Song's insistent chorus of "it's gonna be a hit, hit, hit!", by the end you're not convinced, "it's not gonna be a hit is it Free Designers?" "No� I'm afraid not Rum. To be honest it hasn't a hope in hell. Oh yeah we're bitter, of course we are, but, you know, when you're in the idiom of soft rock you can't get away with angst, you've got to maintain this 'pleasing' fa�ade, so that's why we sound so jolly, so 'up' on this song. But yeah, it's hard..." Yes, they may, as they sing, have "sealed it with a kiss" but the cracks show. And it's that that makes this song particularly memorable. It's fascinating to see the rips in their Peter Pan wonderland, a place where they usually spend their time flying kites, blowing bubbles, befriending dolphins. And so this palpable excitement you hear in their heady harmonies is not fuelled by a surefire optimism of success but by an almost delirious desperation, "hit, hit, hit, sure to be a hit, hit, hit, gonna make a hit, hit, hit" they sing, panting, shaking nervously, craving that big fix. The track is a flip-side to the Byrds' 'So You Wanna Be A Rock'N'Roll Star'. Both are bitter recipes for pop success but whereas the Byrds are pissed off that any talentless buffoon can follow their recipe to success get a hit, the Free Design are pissed that "We did all this last time, and it did not work!". I guess you have to suffer for your art, and maybe the Free Design were having too happy a time. Or maybe their hair didn't swing right or their pants weren't tight.

If you ask any industry bigwig right now what�s gonna be the next big thing, they�ll all say the same, �Sea Shanties�. Every one of them. You think I�m joking? Well listen up ignorami because I�m not.

You might have noticed ripples rolling in from the Indie scene on both shores of the Atlantic, as The Coral, The Decemberists, and others, have romanticised the plight of the seafarer, but now Shanties are due to hit the mainstream, and hard. As I write this Richard X is in his London studio working on the final mix of �Salty Seadog�, an explosive slab of �neo-shant� purred over seductively by Rachel Stevens. Cathy Dennis, my old pal from our days changing skates at Norwich Rollerama, told me yesterday that she�s just sold three �Shanties� to some �top name artists�. For legal reasons I�m not allowed to say who, but let me assure you these are white hot names. The kind of names that kids get on their knees and pray to. So, you see, Shanties are big business. I�ve also heard that Jennifer Lopez, J-Lo, �Loopy� Lopez, Jell-O, whatever, never one to miss a passing fad, is rumoured to be changing her name to One-Eyed-Jenny. Make of that what you will, might just be street talk. Now what concerns me is the forthcoming release from Britney Spears. This you may have heard about. It�s called, �Wingin�, Blingin� and Not!�, and it�s a �fresh� adaptation of the 19th century poem/song, �Winkin�, Blinkin� and Nod� by Eugene Field. I know this song from the glorious version by Cass Elliot�s pre-fame folk trio, The Big Three. It�s less a shanty than a bewitching lullaby, intended to lull a child into restful slumber, as Winkin� and gang sailed not in rusting trawler through the bleak North Sea, but, �in a wooden shoe/off on a river of crystal light/into a sea of dew.� And it contains some of the most hauntingly beautiful oooh ooohs and aahh ahhs ever waxed, as Tim Rose and Mama Cass harmonise the rolling waves of slumber. Nevertheless because of it�s sea-faring theme (�we�re going fishing for the herring fish/that live in the beautiful sea�), it�ll probably get caught up in the nets of the inevitable �Sea Shanty Fever� cash-in compilations that will soon litter our shores like syringes and floor tiling. I wanted to draw your attention to it now before it gets beaten blue and bloody by the Spears, and rattles out over supermarket tannoys the world over.

Up fer listening to some snotty American teens brag about how utterly monged they all are?!... Lord, just writing that there sentence makes me want to clutch my head and groan� �well exactly, so how does no strike you?� Fair, it strikes me as fair. But hear me out. You see, these drug-addled Wailers set their braggings against a backdrop of the crankiest, mankiest rock�n�roll the wrong side of the Sonics. �Is that the tape disintegrating?�, �Do I hear the wallpaper of heaven being torn down?� No, you don�t, that�s the music. �And is that the �Satisfaction� riff honk-honking like an ocean liner in a storm?� Aye yes captain, like the truest garage rockers they filch their riffs from the big leaguers (listen to that other meisterwerk �Psychotic Reaction�). It�s a genre that favours execution over original ideas, and man the Wailers execute that �Satisfaction� riff alright. Yes, sir, by the end there�s black smoke billowing out like burning plastic. ��And I can hear a�a wicked organ swirling around in the cacophony. It sounds really big, like it was recorded in a church, you know like that Belle & Sebastian track� �Lazy Line Painter Jane�?� �well, yeah� I suppose�

�Still these lyrics though�? I cannae bear kids, ANYONE, recounting their drunken, drugged, whatever, adventures out on the town. ESPECIALLY when every other word is �crazy�. I thought psychedelic drugs were meant to expand your mind?� Well, yeah, I agree, but like when you listen to any other drug-addled teen, your brain just switches them off after a time, �out runnin� around/seein� every crazy sight� ma na na na ma na ma ma!� At least until the chorus, when the kids notice you drifting, and jolt your slumbering brain by bellowing in your ear, �HEY! We gotta be� OUT OF OUR TREE!!! OUT OF OUR TREE!�� Yes, yes, it certainly sounds like it.

There is something magic about a song like �All Men Play On Ten� in this post-Spinal Tap Metal world. Such an earnest rock anthem, in such an irony saturated market� You�ve got to have respect for Manowar. Is it a mark of defiance or of ignorance and stupidity? Hard to tell. Maybe both. But then this song is essentially about doing things their own way, and not listening to anybody. So who cares anyway? Well, it�s worth listening to Eric Adams for 4 minutes at least. He has a message for us all. He�s no puritanical, know-it-all, he�s a reformed character preaching a rock�n�roll gospel. Believe it or not brothers, he too has fallen. There was a time when he did it for the money, yes that�s right, he sold his soul to the loud music-hating devil. And the devil said hmmm Mr Adams, for your money I have some things I need you to do for me, adjustments as it were. Eric said, well okay, what do you suggest? The devil demanded that he turn down his amps, �why be proud, don�t play so loud, be like us and get a sound that�s real THIN�. OK, I reckon I could do that, just a bit, said Eric, a little put out. But the demands didn�t end there, Eric was pinched and plucked for his silver dollar, �wear a polyester suit, act happy, look cute, get a haircut and buy small gear.� And inevitably it all got too much. Eric�s no pigeon weaver, and he got real mad, and he turned to the devil and said, �HOLD IT, RIGHT THERE!� And good for him. For this is a great track. Very catchy.