Psych-tinged folk ditties from the quirky mind of Robyn Hitchcock. It's like he went through his old diaries, cleaned up the prose to make it rhyme and set it to this bare-bones and fragile music. Somewhat whimsical and zany, often times disturbing and dark; it's one of those albums I listen to and wonder if this is what Syd Barrett would've done if he hadn't gone batshit bonkers and retreated to his mum's basement to watch British soaps on the telly all day.
Maybe that's what Hitchcock imagined this record was; an homage of sorts to the crazy diamond himself.
