A song about wimpiness and non-intervention, whose subject seems to infect its delivery: close harmony as a coccoon, a kind of pretty disengagement from the beastly world. It’s a cover version of a record that’s only three years old but it sounds further out of time than that. And ahead of time too – ear-squint and this is in the same bandstand as Westlife, maybe. A discussion flowered briefly on ILM yesterday about why male harmony singing fails to get the hip recognition the (generalised) ‘girl group sound’ does – perhaps this sense that the voices are covering up for one another is part of the reason?
Score: 4
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