Some people write about kisses under the rain, and some people write meaningful songs, and Glyn Bailey writes about mutual cannibalism - as an act of love, mind you - ('Part Of Me'), getting blow jobs ('Sorry') and left-wing newspapers, broken homes ('East & West', 'He Says She Says'), planet earth ('The Plastic Bag Song'), dead comedians ('A Dream Of Laurel & Hardy') and violent jealousy ('Yellow Rage').
All in all, not exactly light-hearted, but this album is obviously an act of love, with a good many laughs in the process of making, by the sound of it, although the subject-matter of most of the songs is stark and often shocking.
The album opens with a full rock tune (including the clever big guitar riff), and goes through a plethora of musical styles, it's a whirlwind, a kaleidoscope of instruments (all played by Glyn), ballads, guest singers, full band on the bonus track 'Friends (John & Yoko In Bed)' , soaring vocals, old-style French folk music - in my personal favourite 'L'Humanite'' - tears for friends who die too young and socio-political realism, the lyrics grab you by the shoulders and shake you hard, in this world a girl has to work in prisons, and communism and solidarity have become bad words, now you can go to jail for saying armed resistance is not always plain bad and wrong, and...
mercifully on a not so striking note, it's possible but hard, to love more than one lover.