Reviewed by Tony Cummings

Down the years my affection for arch eccentric songsmith Pete Ryder has grown hugely. To newcomers to Mr Ryder’s peculiar talents he may seem an odd bird, a bushy bearded wrinkly, crouched over an acoustic guitar with a voice that can just, only just, carry a tune. But as a lyricist Pete is a witty, incisive and unique talent able to pen songs, seemingly at will, about the morning after the flood, the cuttlefish and even, on “Monsieur Norbert Castaret”, a song about a French speleogist! Some may find his peculiarly British point of view a little too whimsical. But few could argue that he plays an excellent guitar (check out the instrumental “Hothorpe”) and I’m sure more adventurous spirits would discover much in his cleverly crafted observations on the “simmering cranial soup.”