Lazy, lysergically charming Kevin Ayers. Underachiever par excellence but not today, not here. Deceptive opener comes on like a bass and orchestra driven out-take from Histoire de Melody Nelson: thrilling and unrepesentative. Did the moolah run out? Anyways, thereafter expect freaked out ditties, skew whiff music hall and nothing less than all round cracked pop genius. Much talk of getting high peaking with ridiculously catchy Stranger in Blue Suede Shoes (message: get greed-heads to spliff up; error of capitalist ways exposed; world better place). Keen eye for the ladies too.
Oddi wrth y brawd