Having quickly taught me a lesson about books and covers, or at least cynical journalists and their jaded perceptions, the brace of songs that I have got to know Rhett through over the last few months has been exactly what I needed to restore my faith in pop music. And at the heart of the music is something that seems to have been lost along the way, a universal truth that seems missing, a misplaced piece of the musical jigsaw and it is this. Even pop music needs to be well written. Programmed beats, a dance routine and ten words repeated ad infinitum might sell well now that the music industry has a Big Brother-like hold over our musical tastes and cravings, but Rhett, for all his young years, makes music which demonstrably carries that important nugget of pop wisdom.
And hence the result is a song which welds pop sass to rock muscle, places jaunty riffs amongst groovy rhythms, covers the usual lyrical subject matter in a more eloquent way and passes the “am I dancing by the onset of the first chorus” test with ease. In short it struts majestically through a pop-rock landscape, master of all it surveys. I make that three out of three…good work and I’m already waiting for the next one.