Why, oh why, oh why do some people insist on labelling themselves as inferior copyists to a scene and image long past before they were probably old enough to remember it anyway?

The sad thing is, the name Baggy conjures up visions of curtain haired twats in designer flares being "on one" whilst attempting to twist their neighbours' melons, man. And yet the three songs on this CD suggest an entirely more succinct proposition. Creativity.

So, while it's impossible to not marvel at the Skelly Mavers joust of 'Leave This Town' and meander quaintly within 'Broken Morning''s laconic portent one wonders what Baggy can serve up next.

And whilst guardians of the Browny Squire bastion of regimental Byrdsian origin might differ to reason, 'Little Wonder' bastardises the little known Stone Roses opus of 'Here It Comes' and creates a dream laden whirlpool of its own.

The thing is though, Baggy as a name sucks, and does no justice to the music on offer whatsoever.

The ball, therefore, is in your court, boys.