Melody Maker single of the week
He sighs, he swoons, he sings the blues for wounded swans and dying
planets. He is
elegance personified, an impossibly suave poet penning lines for the
who still believe in everlasting love and the power of a beautiful
moment. He's asleep,
dreaming of a better place, wishing himself into a winter wonderland
creatures and gorgeous devotees gather around to hear his wisdom. Oh
sweet, so naive.
Meanwhile a nation sniggers at the fat man. Look, Mum, he's eaten all
the pies. And
crisps. And peanuts. Cor, ain't we clever? Thing is, were Tiny under
10 stone, with
cheekbones you could chop out lines with and the looks of a dirty lowdown
symbol (paging Mr Anderson, come in, Mr Anderson) his face would be
in a curzillion
trillion bedroom walls and his music would be appreciated for what
it is- the idealist
nonsense of the first paragraph set to continent crashing tunes and
choruses to live,
breath and die for.
Adjust your mindset and buy into Ultrasound, then, for "Floodlit World"
a romantic anthem that sounds like it was written to be beamed into
the cosmos in
the hope of attracting intelligent life. It's been said that Tiny is
a modern Pied Piper
and you can hear him wooing the innocent and delighting the debauched
breathy phrase "sing for me" sounding like the most compelling chat
up line ever. And
that's the crux of Ultrasound - they're infectious, hypnotic, inspiring,
the band who can
make you trade the real world of fat blokes and prejudice for the stars,
stars. Give in. It's time for the dreamers to win for a change.