A cool turntablism track about a minor accident... the sounds of the scratch are actually two creatures arguing. You can find the filmclip around. That scratch is making me itch...

One of the best angry,angsty songs ever written.

A beautifully lilting modern waltz. Bittersweet fingerpicked guitar in the background and a wonderful haunting voice, I'm assuming Inara George herself. I'd love to learn more about the artist. A beautiful song of the bitter side of love, "fools in love they think they're heroes, because they get to feel no pain, i say fools are lovers' heroes, i should know, i should know because this fool's in love again." I just love songs like this. I first heard it watching Grey's Anatomy. So I looked on Amazon at the playlist for the soundtrack and found it. Definitely a great song in my book.
She has a website: www.inarageorge.com and unfortunately she just finished a tour.

Anytime I see old records that were initially rejected by the record company, I know something cool must be going on. This song is no exception. Highlighted by a slow, sultry, minor key bridge (that was later sped up in the commercial version), this is probably my favorite recording of the 20th century.

One of the few succesful attempts at using a gospel choir on a jazz recording (along with Max Roach's "It's Time" LP from the previous year...which, coincidentally, featured the same chorus), Byrd's "A New Perspective" album was the first time it was really attempted with a small group setting (Roach's was backed by an orchestra). This, the opening track, begins with a vocalese scat by the choir that calls to mind old slave work songs. From there, the incredible band (featuring a very young Herbie Hancock and Kenny Burrell, among others) strikes up, and begins to follow a basic riff with the chorus that takes you through the remaining nine-plus minutes with various tempo changes throughout. An equally impressive edited version appeared as a b-side to the single of "Cristo Redentor", which got to be a minor hit on the pop charts.

From the minor key trombone intro to the teenage angst of the lyrics, this is a classic song of the 60's that totally encapulates the innocent era of the UK beat boom. Sandie Shaw was probably the best selling UK female singer from 64 to 69, slightly outselling her contemporaries Dusty, Cilla and Lulu and although she possessed a weaker voice than the others, what she lacked in volume she made up in style and interpretation. Sweet and slightly soulful with a quasi tuneless ache to her voice which epitomised a teenager stood up by some beatnik no hoper, she was only 17 and showed the ways of a woman several years older. In the UK it was the follow up to the massive UK No 1 ''Always Something There To Remind Me'' and was a massive Top 3 hit that should have gone all the way to the top.
I love this record - it sums up an era, it is the beginning of a suit of girl singers who changed then style of singing, from 50's twee to 60's ''dolly bird'' and it remains a classic pop single from a girl who held the record for the most No 1 hits for a ssolo female for 19 years

This exceptionally haunting and lyrical song by Quincy Jones has received its definitive interpretion by Astrud Gilberto with arrangement and accompaniment by the Brazilian organist Walter Wanderley. The melancholy urgency of the piece resonates well with the dark/sad tonality that pervades so much of Bossa Nova music, though its character is also reminiscent of certain otherwise very different pieces from the bebop era, which had a formative influence on Quincy Jones' music. There is definitely the remote influence of Charlie Parker and especially Dizzy Gillespie. It's truly a completely unique piece. The drifting melody which seems to skirt over the chord changes has a beautiful inevitability. Only a very gifted and skilled musician could have contrived such a beautiful work. So Quincy Jones deserves especial credit for crafting this song from the film "The Deadly Affair."

Astrud's delivery, so typically limpid and restrained, only serves to heighten the intensity of this darkly passionate song. The subtle but somehow fierce organ playing of Walter Wanderley acheives a sizzling romanticism that perfectly complements the reading of Astrud's apparently detached fatalism.

In my opinion, this track is a true musical masterpiece. Its remarkable economy of means is a testament to the skill of the composer as well as the artistry of the performers. In fact, it's a nearly perfect combination of expressive means and poetic intent. The beautiful resolution, with Astrud's perfect striking of the high B-flat over the half-diminished F-minor seventh, is a moment of sublime dramatic intensity, though profoundly understated, as is typical of her finest artistic moments. One is reminded of Miles Davis. Her poetic skill is rooted in subtlety.

I have listened to this extraordinary track hundreds of times, and always experienced chills rising up on the back of my neck. How amazing that this incredible musical gem was omitted from the original album A Certain Smile, A Certain Sadness. Perhaps it was too intense, too heavy; whatever the case, it's a truly remarkable piece of music.

I'm truly grateful to have discovered this great albeit minor musical masterpiece. There's really nothing else quite like it! The sizzling but subtle sensitivity of the rhythm section (Claudio Slon on drums, possibly Joao Gilberto on guitar and Jose Marino on bass) adds an intensity to the piece which helps project the almost existential tone of the song.

I'm really swept away by this obscure and neglected work, which attains -- for me at least -- to a peak of poetic intensity really rare in music. As is usual with Astrud at her best, it accomplishes its artistic ends with what seems like the most minimal of means. But subtlety is always the avenue to the most profound of artistic experiences. I think this is a remarkable example -- one of the greatest -- of the wedding of popular music and high art. It is a truly perfect performance. In my opinion, its greatness increases rather than diminshes with repeated listenings. There is only one word for that -- it's magic!

The U.K. (or possibly Australian?)group the Settlers do a great job on this Tony Hatch song, sounding somewhat like American contemporaries the Sunshine Company and the Mamas and the Papas. I just love the vocal harmony groups of the mid to late 60's and this is an excellent example of that musical genre. The arrangement is very dramatic and the male-female vocal blend is very well done. This is much more pop than rock, and is definitely one of my favorite Tony Hatch tunes.

This is an absolutely incredible song. It's a melancholy, minor-key brooder much in the vein of the Zombies' more experimental work, and it really showcases how underrated the Troggs were compared to many of their British Invasion contemporaries. This appeared as a b-side to their second biggest US hit, "Love is All Around".

Both shocking and extremely cool, this has to be heard to be believed - a 'rock' adapation of Rachmanninov's Prelude in C# minor which really does rock. Cy Coleman lays a huge funky breakbeat and a heavy bassline on top of the beautifully dark, doomy theme. A jazzy guitar comes in and out as the track builds. I've never heard anything quite like it (I mean that in a good way). I am now unable to hear the original piece without Cy Coleman's breakbeat!

This song is living proof that whatever you try to do, if you execute it well, the rest can take care of itself. Serge didn't even bother writing a song (this is just an arrangement of Chopin's prelude in E minor). But the song is excellent, and stands up to (at least several hundred) repeated listens. There's a slow, jerky beat, and a heavy bassline. Birkin's delicate vocal works well with this backing, and the whole thing has a very hip feel.

Genius late 60s pop with vocal harmonies. This was composed by Roger Nichols, and has some beautiful chord changes and Bacharach-meets-Brian-Wilson interludes.

The verse is sombre and in a minor key, but when they sing 'close to me' to usher in the chorus, the sun comes out! There's some scat singing in the interludes. I had previously only really known the Vogues for '5 o'clock world', but this is superb - an unusual and memorable track.

Pink Floyd are heard at their best with this piece of film music, keeping it simple and atmospheric. I find so much of their output over-ambitious, but here I think they got it right - a short melodic vocal section followed by a very simple organ chord sequence repeated to a very slow fade. This manages to sound gently, atmospherically organic and hypnotic where so often Floyd sound ludicrously overblown.

The minor key, pedal bass, double-dotted theme, and piano and orchestra scoring create an atmosphere which I find very enjoyable. I only have an edit of the original, which I think was available as them adn variations and various suites, and would like to hear the rest to see how/if Legrand develops the material.

As we all know, it has that typical late 60s "rock group with string section added on" sound. I recommend it here mainly because I *love* the change in mood and minor tonality that comes with line "Ground control to Major Tom, your circuit's dead - There's something wrong" which comes after "Tell my wife I love her very much - she knows". The diminished 7th chord under the words "Major Tom" is, well, sublime.

The song was produced by Gus Dudgeon who went on to produce most of Elton John's classic material, and features Rick Wakeman amongst several subsequently famous session musicians. The Wikipedia articles on the track and the album it came from are interesting, well-written, and seem well-researched (unless anyone wants to disagree).

A really nice gently tropical instrumental with strings and a rock (drums/guitars) backing. I seem to be in a minority in adoring Les's 'Que Mango' album (which apparently was originally sold only in supermarkets at $1.99). I actually listen to this album as much as I listen to his classic exotic jazz LPs from the late 50s. It contains lots of great, shimmering, groovy tracks, such as 'boca chica', and the superb 'tropicando', which you can now hear almost everywhere (via a TV ad, and the aptly named 'Thievery Corporation'). Record geek part: on the vinyl version of this I have, the track 'Jungle Montuno' is shorter and sweeter - it begins one minute into the CD version of the track. I'm just mentioning this because the first minute seems to me to be inferior, and from a different song.

An unusual Marcos track, a 9-minute instrumental suite tucked away at the end of one of his most adventurous albums. Hugely recommended to Axelrod/Electric Prunes fans, as it sounds almost exactly like something from "Release Of An Oath" or "Mass In F Minor."

Janko Nilovic deserves attention. He composed a huge volume of library music in the 1960s and 70s, and what I've heard of his work has all been excellent. Some of it has recently been made available on CD by the Cosmic Sounds label, who are also releasing new work by him. It's hard to sum up his work, because it was quite diverse. From what I've heard, Nilovic was like a jazzier, more wild version of other contemporary library composers like Roger Roger and Nino Nardini.

This is a wonderful instrumental that opens with a bare breakbeat. This is soon joined by bass and electric guitar, which then give way to a Morricone-style harpsichord, which riffs over a descending minor chord sequence. The whole thing remains funky and slightly menacing as different parts drop in and out. The whole piece is really just a simple jam, but the impeccable arrangement takes it to a higher level.

A very funky track from Astrud's final US album. Very bass-heavy and percussive, just an excellent song. Stanley Turrentine's tenor sax doesn't meld with Gilberto's voice nearly as well as Stan Getz' warmer tones did, but that's a minor flaw that doesn't detract from the overall song too much.

This track also comes from "The Very Best Of John Barry" and is the main titles from the soundtrack of the film "Follow Me" starring Mia Farrow, Topol and Michael Jayston and directed by Carol Reed in 1971. The soundtrack has only been offically released in Japan for some reason but a version can be found on the Polydor CD "The Very Best of John Barry" which in itself is a compilation of two John Barry Polydor albums released in the 70s (one of which is the fantastic "The Concert John Barry"). The track is a lush string led theme in a minor key with the Polydor version including a mandolin leading the main melody along. The film I saw many years ago and my memory of it is very vague, but I do remember enjoying it and the music really stuck with me (being directed by Carol Reed who gave us "The Third Man" means it must have had something going for it!). The soundtrack is also available as a 500 limited edition bootleg (Dark Son Records DSRJB71-01A) and includes the vocal version heard at the end credits. Like a lot of Barry's 60s output the soundtrack consists of the main theme repeated in various different styles with the exception of one or two tracks (like "The Knack" and "The Ipcress File").

This track kicks off the first album by the Jane Relf - Jim McCarty - John Hawken group which arose from the ashes of Renaissance when the latter was taken over by the Camp / Dunford / Thatcher cabal after a couple of LPs (that's not a knock at Renaissance by the way!). "Isadora" is interesting because although it's almost seven minutes long and doesn't have a great deal of lyrical content, it does have a wonderfully frosty mood to it (all those minor chords will do that) and I love some of the piano riffs that fall in behind the lines of singing. And its frostiness makes a remarkable contrast to the sultry "Face Of Yesterday" (q.v.) from the same album!

The B-52's were one of several late-'70s bands for which there was no real category. With their modified surf guitar sound, their thrift-shop fashion sense, and their jokey demeanor, they certainly weren't in the rock & roll mainstream, but they exhibited none of punk's sneering rebelliousness or musical aggression, either � the only anarchy that seemed to interest the B-52's was of the sartorial variety. "Rock Lobster" was the first B-52's song to catch popular attention, and it's easy to see why. The minimalist guitar lick is like a beach-bum's rendition of the James Bond theme, the one-note organ ostinato complements it perfectly, and Fred Scheider's campy sprechgesang jumps out at you immediately. Yet despite the song's self-consciously weird texture and silly lyrics about earlobes falling off and communal towel coordination, there's a thread of darkness weaving through it. Make no mistake � this is not a song with hidden meaning lurking below the surface. But its surface is a little more complicated than it seems to be at first. For one thing, it's almost seven minutes long, and it does start to drag toward the end. Right when it does, you notice the mood getting darker � Schneider delivers lines about "having fun" and "baking in the sun" in a hoarse croak, and the guitar starts sounding repetitive in a slightly creepy way. Suddenly you realize that the whole song has been in a minor key, and as Schneider shouts and the guitar barks out its angular riff over and over, you start to wonder if maybe there's some kind of commentary going on here. But then Kate Pierson's angelic voice comes in with a surprisingly pretty falling harmony part that can only be described as a descant, which repeats several times, gradually paring itself down to a single phrase, and abruptly the song is over. The whole song ends up being a goofy party confection with a slightly crunchy center � a pretty satisfying overall flavor combination.
(AMG)

A beautifully clear female voice emerges out of a rich synth backing of subtle harmonies provided by Bob Noble. Judie Tzuke (best-known for "Stay with me till dawn" of 1979 which was a minor UK hit) recorded a number of excellent tracks over the years. A reviewer on Amazon describes her as the "fifth biggest selling British female singer between 1980 and 1985", but I'd almost forgotten about her until I stumbled across one of her albums on CD in a shop the other day, prompting a return to some of my LPs and tapes.
This particular track has long been a favourite of mine for its emotional depth, but for whatever reason it's been a long time since I heard it. It would have helped had I been able to buy it on CD - unfortunately it doesn't appear to be available on any current disc.

The DIY ethos of punk served to liberate performers from the obligation to have a great deal of technical ability. The unfortunate corollary was that any display of already-acquired virtuousity instantly marked one as part of the Uncool Wankerage, forcing nascent guitar gods like Andy Summers to play as though suddenly arthritic. Possibly the first artist to successfully bridge Old World training and New World raucousness was Nina Hagen. "New York New York" is the East German-trained singer's signature tune. Over a clipped, dry Morodor techno-dystopia background, the verses present Hagen recounting her then-current regimen of glamourous excess in a harsh, metallic raven's shriek. Then, as though descending from the heavens at the end of a Wagnerian opera, comes the chorus -- a meltingly warm (yet uncomfortable) wave of minor chords, then a soaring, yearning, superbly modulated mezzo-soprano...which, after a jolt of realization, is understood to also belong to Nina Hagen. And so on.

A minor hit from alternative radio in the early 80's. Marvelous simple bass line and droll, cheeky lyrics.

By late 1983, when Altered Images' third and final album, Bite, was released, Altered Images were already dead in the water. The group had never made any particular headway in the US, where their blend of Siouxsie and the Banshees and the Monkees (not to mention Claire Grogan's bizarre, baby-talk hiccup of a singing voice) was just a little too weird for mainstream tastes, and in their native UK, their colorful look and bubblegummy 1982 singles "I Could Be Happy" and "See Those Eyes" had forever typecast them as a kiddie-pop band. Grogan was already branching off in her second career as an actress (she played the title role in Bill Forsyth's 1982 cult classic Gregory's Girl), and Bite seemed like a mere contractual obligation. For the most part, it sounds like it, too, but the brilliant single "Don't Talk To Me About Love," which led off side two, was a welcome surprise, and possibly the best song they ever did. Mike Chapman's production recalls his work with Blondie, while the disco-tinged electronic beat, chicken-scratch electric guitar part and rubbery, melodic bass part all sound closer to New Order's "Blue Monday" than Bananarama's "Cruel Summer." Grogan herself is in an entirely different mood than usual, with her newly-lowered singing voice (and slightly improved enunciation) displaying a rueful, almost petulant edge that suits the cranky lyrics. Only at the very end does she shoot into her usual helium-pitched unintelligibility, with an air of "See, I can still do this, I just choose not to anymore." Coupled with the most indelible chorus of the band's entire career, it all adds up to a minor masterpiece. Sadly, however, nobody wanted to know.
(AMG)

Johnny Marr once said that he wanted to write a song with an unforgettable guitar intro, like Eric Clapton's "Layla". He was, at the time, talking about the penning of the Smiths' "How Soon is Now?" The Chameleons' "Swamp Thing" does everything still that "How Soon is Now?" did for me when I was 16. Difference is, I haven't popped in a Smiths mixtape since I was 20.

There's somthing very romantic about this song. I've never really paid too much attention to the lyrics of this particular Chameleons track, although Mark Burgess' oddly peotic songwriting skills on other tracks have haunted my mind years after I had heard them. This tune is led and driven by the chord structure more than just the delayed, jangly guitar, or the powerfully precise drumming. Midway into the tune, the song goes from minor chord structure to major chord structure, even though the lyrics remain as bleak as a Manchester weather report.

Whenever I hear this song, one word always pops into my head, "pretty". That's what this song is. Pretty.

This song is about.... ehh, the lyrics are quite self explaintory::

"Life's not been good for you
It's just not fair
You did nothing to deserve it
You did nothing at all
Sit back and watch
It turns from bad to worse
No matter how loud you cry
It always hurts.....
Everybody gets
The breaks that belonged to you
Everybody takes
Your just desserts....




At first I wasn't very satisfied with this song. It's hardcore, lyrics are shouted and I didn't understand anything, I only listened to melody and other things. Than I read lyrics and listened to it again.
THIS SONG IS VERY GOOD. ONE OF THE BEST MINOR THREAT SONGS (They are all great except "Guilty Of Being White", I hate lyrics. It remind me of nazi skins)
Minor Threat are one of the greatest hardcore bands of all time. Straight Edge is movement, which started becouse of one Minor Threat's song with the same name. The lyric side of MN is great, instrumental part to. They are great. They'll always be. IF YOU DON'T LIKE MINOR THREAT YOU DON'T LIKE HARDCORE! Sorry, but that's true.

You can find their whole discography on one CD which consists of 26 songs.

What should I say about this fantastic song. It's one of the fastest hc song. It last's only 45 seconds.
I won't bother myself trying to explain you the meaning. Here you got the lyrics which explain everything. There is even a whole big movement which started becouse of this song. It's anti-drug, casual sex, vegetarian movement.Ops, I forgot, here you got the lyrics, Enjoy:

I'm a person just like you
But I've got better things to do
Than sit around and fuck my head
Hang out with the living dead
Snort white shit up my nose
Pass out at the shows
I don't even think about speed
That's something I just don't need

I've got the straight edge

I'm a person just like you
But I've got better things to do
Than sit around and smoke dope
'Cause I know I can cope
Laugh at the thought of eating ludes
Laugh at the thought of sniffing glue
Always gonna keep in touch
Never want to use a crutch

I've got the straight edge

A terrific debut single, this song strikes me as having what psychiatrists would call a mixed manic-depressive state. The mania is in the pace, which is fairly quick, and the vocals, which never seem to stop, while the depression is in the guitars which are rather poignant, what with minor seventh chords and so on. There are a number of good songs on the LP, although none quite like this, and the second LP "I've Seen Everything" is pretty good too, particularly the single "Hay Fever". It's all basically guitar pop but with a few twists and turns along the way.

My favourite House Of Love song, it's a mid-paced typically guitar-drenched track with an insistent percussive backing and that low ostinato guitar riff with the little flourish in it. It has lots of minor chords which give it a rather gloomy feel (like many of my favourite songs). Actually their later song "Feel", which was one of the '90s best, could be "Shake And Crawl" slowed almost to a literal crawl ...

Hell, I could have picked almost anything from the back catalogue of this band. Albatross is the stand-out track of an outstanding 4 track EP (entitled Holding our Breath) from early ’90s shoegazers Slowdive. Bemoaned, decried and hated by Britain’s Britpop-loving press, Slowdive’s beautiful multi-layered sound has latterly found a kindred spirit in much lauded post-rockers Sigur Ros. So maybe they were right after all…

Back to Reading – and there is no stronger example of the Thames Valley sound than Albatross. Layer upon layer of minor chords – almost symphonic in their beauty – Albatross swells to a powerful crescendo of highly processed guitars. Non-believers should check out double A-sides Catch the Breeze and Shine. The fourth track on the rather grand EP is a cover of Syd Barrett's (former lead singer of Pink Floyd) Golden Hair. Utterly remarkable.

Seriously, this one is brilliant. Nick's love song to both his new-born child and the chaotic city he was living in at the time (Sao Paulo) is an utter feast for those who love language: Nick rolls off such lines as

I thought about my friend Michel
How they rolled him in linoleum
And then shot him in the head
A bloody halo like a think bubble
Was circling his head
And I bellowed at the firmament
It looks like the rains are here to stay...

If the sun would rise in a minor key, this is what it would sound like. The shadows dissolve around you in warm harmony, even death sunbathes here, in a song ripe with hope and humanity. It is a misnomer to 'Fade Out' when we are held not by darkness, but by light. The paralysis of a dreary existence is manifested in the 'Street Spirit' where 'cracked eggs, dead birds scream as they fight for life' and 'machines will not communicate these thoughts and strain I am under.' If we were to stifle the creative spirit all we would need to do is look down a suburb and notice the lack of aesthetics and individuality of the homes. 'Rows of houses all bearing down on me...all these things will one day take control and fade out again.' This is the prelude to the bigger picture found in Radiohead's songs. Sure they dwell on the robotics of Orwell's '1984', and at times they are tedious and painfully accurate, nevertheless they leave us with an indelible desire to survive. 'Immerse your soul in Love' wags it's tail at the end of the song to insure a new beginning, much like the death of night. When sung, it is a very exciting moment as Thom's voice soars above the convolutions of the incessant guitar picking and synth-strings. Not the most popular Radiohead song, but their brightest moment to be experienced.

Wonderfully melodic virtuoso blues guitar work. Minor key tonality. As usual on Gary's tracks, the vocals are rather dwarfed by the over top magnificence of his guitar playing.

According to most educated musical minds, the Corrs are purveyors of irritating, unambitious, tasteless pop tinged with Irish folk. I'd tend to agree strongly, and this track starts off so as to suggest nothing better - twelve seconds of unimaginitive and poorly-recorded drum solo, which moreover reappears with just over 3 minutes on the clock, followed by a truly dreadfully contrived-sounding modulation to the supertonic � la Eurovision. And a horrible brassy backing at one point towards the end.

However, there is definitely something I really like about, even esteem in what occours between those two points. For one thing, there is the way the depressive lyrics are sung to an assertively forward-moving minor key backing. There is something about the rhythm of word-setting that grabs me. I like the chord sequences. The melody's quite good. I like the violin solo in the middle, and the use of the violin for the riff heard during the introduction. Even if it's just a cheap piece of pop, it sounds as though some intelligence and emotion went into its creation. And as i say, for some reason, something about it seems to click with me somehow.

Although a thick line has long been drawn connecting disco to the '90s techno scene, few have bothered to connect the dots between the more modern genre and synth pop. The Human League didn't need to fret about such things, though; they intuitively understood those relationships, having explored virtually all the influences over their career � industrial, funk, R&B, synth pop, new wave, and disco itself. And when the wheel turned again, the band was back on top with a sound that hadn't really changed, but just refined. With a few minor alterations, 1995's "Tell Me When" could have come from 1983, slotting nicely between "Fascination" and "Mirror Man." Of course, the drum programming would need to be changed (there were no jungle rhythms back then!), but the funky bassline can stay, along with the bubbly synths. In fact, the real difference is found in the vignette-esque lyrics and the more complex vocals. And these slight changes make all the difference, turning synth dreams into techno club success. A taster for the group's forthcoming Octopus album, "Tell Me When" hit on both sides of the Atlantic, landing just outside the Top 6 and Top 30 in the U.K. and U.S., respectively.
(AMG)

Starting off with the haunting echoing of steel string suspended minor chords, and quickly moving into the feeling of darkness, Floods reigns as one of the greatest metal balladry songs of all time. With a time of 6:59 (minutes and seconds), Floods deals with the internal struggle, elements of corruption, and dissolution of troubles (wash away man/ take him with the floods), that is not dismissed or watered down into a three-minute wad of sound. Pantera's pervasive composing abilities are seen not only in the length of this track, but it its bridges and structured solo set ups. Phil Anselmo delivers this song on the back of Dimebag Darrell's mighty 'steel' guitar effect, and of course the trademark bass drums and top-hat kicks of Vinnie Paul that have made Pantera so famous. The bridge perhaps extracts the greatest meaning from the song; it epitomizes itself on the power chord riff solos and Anselmo's godly muttering of "floods" (in which we can picture a Goliath or force of destruction coming in to obliterate all existence), which echoes throughout the solo. A rather dark song, Floods is characterized by its catchy guitar work (which contains a spectrum of minor and suspended shapes), and staircase wit/reflective backdrop mumbling vocals about the cold, harsh realities of life. Recommended to anyone who doubts this band's ability to do other than scream and wax metallic, Floods will not be a disappointing track. The bleak acceptance of moving onto new horizons or ways of life, leaving the old and dead behind and walking on down the road, is embodied in the ending solo, with the subtle sound of rainfall calming the listener in the end. 5 out of 5 stars for its genre.

Cathy Dennis' music is predominantly rubbish. As UK residents know, she is now the writer behind much of the teeny crap that fills the top 40 singles chart every week. But When Dreams Turn to Dust shines like a beacon amongst a fog of blandness. I bought the single for 50 pence from a charity shop in 2000. I thought I'd paid too much. I was wrong.

I was out of work at the time and looking for a job. Dennis' masterpiece is the sound of those crazy job-search days - there was a good two week period when I listened to this song continually. Hard times economically - even tougher times on the turntable...

The song has a king of warped Beatles/Byrds quality. And an amazing minor chord chorus. To top it all, she shifts the whole chorus up an octave in the final eight or so bars and kills the listener with a repetitive and insistent refrain.

Convinced by its majesty, I then bought one of her dance albums from a car boot sale for �1. Never has money been so well intentionally spent and inevitably wasted.

There are some disposable pop records that have certain things going for them which lift them above the norm and confer a kind of appeal which, though often temporary in nature, shines through in spite of their annoynances.

So it is with this one, which has a chord sequence that repeats over and over on the synth, and a rather annoying melody/rap sequence. It's also rather rhythmically unimaginative, and most western listeners will find that the Russian folk instrument (don't know what it is) will grate mercilessly. And if that wasn't enough, it ends unforgivably unmusically when an electronic beep simply cuts in suddenly.

However, because I am a such a sucker for this kind of minor key chordal writing, particularly when synths are involved, I enjoy the record, which at least does lack the merciless rhythmic hammering effect of their hit single "All the things she said".

Absolute minor-key classic from the first listen. I suppose it's a bit too "obvious", but hey, I like it. She gets a bit "Ruski" in the chorus.

An "extra" track with deluxe versions of the album; also in piano/vocal only version with one of the CD singles.