Claustrophobic and pulsing. Chunks of dulcimer and clouds of reverb mesh together in a disorientating but coherent whole.

ok, so it's two tracks, and can't really be called a song, very prog in its construction, real whisper to a scream stuff and some of Robert Fripps finest work, lyrical and savage. Fantasticaly clean production as well. Reminds me of slint. the marimba intro to the first track's a bit unneccesary though.

For me this is Youngs most delectible ballad. It makes me shiver. Orchestral country is a seam which has not been mined enough. The spirit of the song will strike a deep resonance with anyone young enough to feel childlike wonder but old enough to feel regret.

A Northern soul classic. I don't go a great bundle on northern usually, a bit stiff and strict tempo for me. This however sweats and creaks like the best Nashville Teens song you never heard with three PP Arnolds on vocals and a vibrato laden farfisa. Best lyrics ever as well, natch.

At odds with his two fold reputation as a folk-baroque balladeer and avant garde explorer Buckley turns in a tortured ballad worthy of the Reverend Al Green. Imagine a libidinously charged Astral Weeks and you're part way there.