Last night I sat in my living room in near darkness with a beaker of tea and bar of chocolate and listened in complete stillness to Greg Weeks Folk /  Prog album If The Sun Dies .  It's a quite spectacular album frankly. Enchanting in many respects and I'll do my utmost to do it justice here.In terms of its chords and mood you're very much in Neil Young's world.. The Neol of the early Seventies. Harvest, After The Gold Rush. At a certain point in the evening I stopped listening to this went off to the stove and cooked myself a bowl of mushroom soup and listened to Everyone Knows this is Nowhere while I cooked ,consumed it and then washed the bowls and pan.Then I returned to my desk put my headphones on and started lstening to  If The Sun Dies again. The mood of the evening and process frankly was quite seamless. You hear quite a lot of records like this now. Ones that utterly try to replicate the mood, ambience and very texture of bygone times. But few which are so immaculate in their conceit as If The Sun Dies. It belongs in April 1972; Or the 15th Century,Weeks of course was in Espers and knows his Gentle Giant from his Drake and Steeleye Span, But this is not an academic exercise. The songs are heartfelt and this is an meticulous, heartfelt exercise rather than a labour of love.

 Morrissey has established his attitude and stance on virtually everything. Let's face it he did so within pretty six months of taking his place at the barricades at some point in 1983 and now listening to three minutes of the opening of You Are The Quarry you can't help wondering if there is anything left to say. 

 XTC were strangers to the singles charts and Top of the Pops from this point onwards. But Grass hits big here. 

 Heavy Rock of this kind is a pleasure denied me .It just never struck a chord and still doesn't register I'm afraid . Let's just move on.

 Sister Sledge went down this week. TBH Lost in Music should never go down in the charts. It's as powerful as hypnosis.

 The NME was a place to learn about music. In a small corner of the Albums Reviews is a write up of a George Jones collection by veteran staffer Fred Dellat. I wouldn't have read it at the time but it's packed with genuine knowhow. 

 

 'Don't you tell it to the breeze . Cause she will tell the birds and bees . Then everyone will know. Because you told the babbling trees. Yes you told them once before. Because you told the blabbering trees.' Sometines you need some eternal truths. The best of The Inkspots is a good place to go to in these moments for an instant remedy. We werem't the first to feel these raging emotions beating like ancient passions in our chest. And we won't be the last. This is a place where you can hear of emotions that were lived before you came to the planet and will be experienced way after you've departed it. These songs express emotions that are sometimes greater than our ability to express them.. Let the Ink Spots spo and express them for us all. Then move on with your day.. 

 Dim all the lights. If you insist Donna. Eternal summer. Let's get on the dancefloor. A tune that makes you feel like your transported onto a yacht with Warren Beatty, Farrah Fawcett and the rest of the Seventies A Team.. Even if it's coming out of your cheap transistor and sink us full of unwashed plates.