Dylan’s got a point, though. Throughout these songs I keep thinking to myself, where’s the fucking stoneware jug? Where’s the fucking washboard solo? And most important of all, where’s the fucking duet with Christopher Denny?

And what’s the use of being a grumpy, gin soaked old Toad if you’ve nothing to cry to while imbibing?

Dylan, I don’t agree about the guitar (although, you’re right the trumpet is certainly not muted, you’re quite right), a bright, lively guitar wouldn’t really go with this ’sound. It’s heavy certainly but has twangs of old school country to it.

A little more trumpet is always a good idea though. Or violin.

(See what I mean about being a pedantic prick?!)

There’s a lovely syncopation to the way the singer delivers the lyrics that runs through both songs, and her voice, though familiar and similar to other ladies in this field, is quite entrancing.

(And, boy, would I love to be in a field with some of these ladies… swoon…)

Ahem – anyway! If I have to criticise, and I usually do, being as I’m pedantic prick, the electric guitar sound is a little muddy, and they could have benefitted from experimenting a little further in terms of instrumental arrangement. There’s a mute trumpet, and maybe a harmonium, in there somewhere that could have been given bigger headlines, but apart from that I’m pretty much sold on this…