It's a song that you should buy if you take your reality fairly watered down. It's sad, but not too sad, and kind of meaningful, without actually being thought provoking, something about tears, the grave, and not being able to leave the past behind (yawn) - any aggressive individualism has been blended out. Orchestrated strings, tinkly guitar, tinkly drums, tinkly lyrics, slow, tinkly rhythm (have I made my point yet?), a pinch of discord - a bit like Radiohead minus any imagination.

You can't judge this book by its fake Hollywood boulevard cover, cunningly constructed from the neon sig(h)ns, street lights and impersonal tower blocks of North London. The Slim Shady-type rapper pose with the soulful stare off to centre right as the so called "artist" looks out from photo-montage land convinces me that irony wasn't on the sleeve designer's agenda. Pity. Yes, a good Eurovision entry. Perhaps fittingly a three-man panel wrote, or should I say regurgitated, the lyrics.