Superior metaphysical wetness from Cassidy – on “Daydreamer” his thin voice sounds utterly wrung-out, a flopping ineffectual adenoidal rag of a thing. It would be intolerable except that it suits the song so well. Effective touches abound – the switch from “ecstasy” to “make-believe”; the lovely flute at the end, piping lotus-eater David further into dreamland. On the flip we have the grotesque bonus of “The Puppy Song”, a whimsical ditty which Cassidy attacks with sneers, whines, and gurgles. The combination borders on disturbing – hard to think of a teenpop single where the singer sounds so honestly unhappy with the whole process. If this had been the start of a trajectory into existential art-pop a la Scott Walker, I wouldn’t have been in the least surprised (though given the limitations of Cassidy’s voice, perhaps we’re lucky it wasn’t).