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We get the picture : early autumn, sunny, a restaurant terrace and a place, tourists, and we spend the morning meditating or almost, looking for a guide with eyes open so he can come and drink some Darjeeling. Yes, a leading guide to meditation and to whom we are used to. In the background, some Burt Bacharach music, some poem by Sylvia Plath, then the English composers/musicians duo gets into action. We kindly slip into dulcet and tender Jeff Buckley-esque tones and irrepressible regret : taking a rise above without any suspicious cigarettes.

Over there, unrecognisable amond the tourists on the place, drowned in the crowd but to put in the foreground of the song, there is a handsome boy (pleasantly as a young Bono lookalike) who wears glasses so he does not get attention and holds a camera in hand : here appears singer/lyricist Martin Barnard whom I like much. His name is undissociable from the heart, either the organ or sentimental life. What if he was the guide we are looking for to lead us to meditation? Writer of beautiful pieces in this album, he remains on top to seduce thanks to his hypnotic voice, particularly by decently slipping into "smooth crooner" shoes during each pre-chorus. Irresistible with his poetic lyrics, no artificial dash, they work as lighthouses, romantic and truthful.

The sunny pop song samples Ronnie Carroll's A House Is Not A Home, the well-balanced arrangements use a lot of charms as they do on Alpha's bona fide signature song "Sometime Later", the rhythm is heavy, but Sir Martin's lyrics appear as somewhat disturbing and leave us apprehensive, unlike other songs from the album. This song should be about 3 beginners, lost and distraught by paparazzi. Good choice, all that is our shy and introvert side that we recognize easily and that Alpha and Martin come to tickle. We just would like to have one more sip of tea on the terrace, to take the notebook in our bag and to write a poem while watching one of the tourists on the place, waiting for the wind to blow in our favour : misters Jenks, Dingley and Barnard, you have mesmerised me.