Spend an hour in Andy Burrows' company and you'll find your faith in music rapidly restored. Admittedly that's a lofty claim, but it's true. An artist who seemingly mainlines from music's wellspring, Burrows is that rarest of breeds - a non-cynical true believer in the redemptive power of the song.
If you're still not sure what I'm talking about, spend just forty minutes in the company of Andy Burrows' second solo album, Fall Together Again. By the time the last track fades, you'll understand exactly what I mean.
Brilliantly, unashamedly melodic, Fall Together Again is the kind of record where the earworms patiently queue up to present themselves one after the other; where songs open out into soaring choruses that soon give way to brighter and ever bolder hooks. It's a record imbued with the spirit of early McCartney solo albums and sunroof-down daydream soul. It's shot through with the kind of sun-dappled soft rock that used to radiate from American FM radios in mid-'70s.