A classic pop gem with the quintessential catchy, sing-along melody. Pristinly written, performed & produced by E6 Godfather Robert Schneider and his Apples in Stereo. With a chorus determined to make you hum in your sleep, or over a dozen pints with your mates, or loud enough for your co-workers to secretly dispise your chummy disposition, this song will never lose its appeal. Piano, guitar, snare and bass bring back the days of 'ole, and they do it in style. This has to be someone's favorite song somewhere!

So far the best thing I've heard all year! The Minders return, this time they invite us into their neighborhood by way of Golden Street. We still feel the quaint influence of Britain's great pop secrets, the Kinks, but we also hear another side of this band that has been long overdue, themselves. The Minders have discovered their voice only glimpsed at in earlier recordings. And 'Right As Rain' is as good as it gets. There is no avoiding the contagions found in the head-bopping performance, you will be infected with a fever you may never wish to recover from. Put plainly, you will love this song, guaranteed! The drumsticks click, the bass rolls in, the electric guitars whir, the beat throbs and then, in a moment of pure expectation, we hear Martyn's vocals like honey dripping from heaven. It is Martyn's voice that carries us through this song and we are disappointed when he pauses to breath. The longest pause comes during the backwards guitar solo, complete with screaming feedback and enriched by keyboards and bass. The refrain is just as exciting when Martyn returns to refill our ears with his perfect British accent. By golly, I wish you could hear it now.

I didn't know it then, but when I purchased the album 'In the Aeroplane Over the Sea' my world changed. When I put the album into my CD player, I did it with a naivete of someone who thought they'd 'heard it all.' I did it clumsily, with haste, handled like a Beatles or Beach Boys album, the way I had done for years. When I listened to the album I did it with reckless abandon while driving 38 miles per hour on my lunch break, and later in the drive-through at McDonald�s. These mistakes were inherited, and I refuse blame. They were passed through the genetic make-up of our peers and born out of the music we've been given; I didn't expect this! Well, our music has changed, and it did so without our knowing and our approval. This album proved and disproved an entire treatise of critical analysis on a generation of music that I thought I had known, and it did so with a fucking velvet sledgehammer.

The lyrics: "And one day we will die and our ashes will fly from the aeroplane over the sea, but for now we are young let us lay in the sun and count every beautiful thing we can see." More lyrics: "What a beautiful face I have found in this place that is circling all around the sun, what a beautiful dream that would flash in the screen in a blink of an eye and be gone from me." The melody: A timeless, haunting thing that was metaphysically resurrected from a wiser place. The voice: Wrenched out of the jaws of a holocaust from 50 years ago, we hear a possessed Jeff Mangum invest his soul. The sound: An apocalypse that can reinvent the turntable by it�s simplistic form; with a saw, guitar, drum, bass, horns, and lord knows what else all handled with deceptive elegance of a garage mechanic constructing a supermodel. And, lastly, the spirit: A tragedy and rape of virginity known only to the persecuted and executed; the ghost of Anne Frank materializes long enough to show us her world, and in her hands we are strangely at peace.

This song is a gift very few will experience. It is endless in its reach and should be accepted like a sibling into your collection. It will one day prove itself beyond category, but for now it is a masterful novel from the hands of a mysterious songwriter who should know how sincerely I cherish his songs.

In order to fully examine the minds of torment and depression, one would need to be familiar with Nick Drake's 'Black Eyed Dog.' With his transcendant ability to translate his demons into song, Nick Drake accounts a supernatural phantasm chasing him through the darkness of his own neurosis. 'Black eyed dog he claws at my door' - sung in his upper register, with the use of heavey falcetto, sounds like he is straining to survive a nightmare. His performance, despite the sparse production of acoustic guitar and vocal, is expansive. Use of harmonics and finger roll on this song proves the mastery of his instrument, as an amateur guitarist I am baffled by the sound he can create. The singular pulse of the guitar string rings-out with a delicate harmonic while the layering of other voices continue subtly underneath. And the result is the tragic embrace of his own psychological deterioration; a horror unlike the Macabre style of the French, it stands as its own haunting style, that of 'Drakesque.'

As we know his depression did finally catch up to him, and as a revisionist I would say that Nick knew it would all along, sooner or later. One would only need to hear this song and some of the pieces are put into place.

I'm into blonde women, always have been. Perhaps I share a kindship with the late great Jeff Buckley. I can just imagine where he's coming from, standing on stage, electric guitar amped to rock, all that power in his hands, peering out through the crowd into a yard of blonde girls. How wonderfully empowering! Just think of it? A young man in his prime slashing power chords in front of a legion of women, and leaving this song to remind us of what it's like to live this mythical life. I sing along, dreaming of what it would have been like as a rock star, what kind of pleasure could I derive from the world?

Jeff has certainly proven and disproven his own stylings from the seminal album, Grace, to the somewhat obscure and fragile My Sweetheart the Drunk. What could have been still reverberates through my mind when listening to this song in particular. Its compelling simplicity and catchy chorus, "very sexy, very sexy, okay, okay" beckons my blonde girlfriend to break out into song. The slow thrust of crunching guitars, standard rock 4/4 time, heavy drums sitting on every beat - it's almost glam, almost British invasion, almost cock-rock, but Buckley style. And yes, very sexy, very sexy. Trust me guys, girls will love this song!