There's a kind review of our album in today's Independent On Sunday. Four stars out of five.
Soundbite heading: "daft synthpop". Which rather makes us sound like Frank Sidebottom. Daft as in ridiculous, though, is fair enough. I'll be the first to admit that my entire existence is the result of some cruel practical joke.
Generous quotes of my lyrics, which I always approve of. I exist to please.
And I still can't sing. Well, I am all too sadly aware of the fact. That's why there's no cover versions. I'm actually only too happy for the songs to be sung by someone else. They just have to be right, that's all. If someone out there thinks they're the ideal exponent for Dickon Edwards songs, do get in touch. Seriously. I always dreamed of there being the equivalent of "Ella Fitzgerald Sings The Dickon Edwards Songbook". Or "Johnny Ray Does Dickon."
