Whistling has to be one of the most annoying sounds known to man. I hate whistling. It’s not just old codgers who whistle in the checkout queue in the supermarket that get on my tits, younger guys seem to be taking it up as a pointless, irritating habit. So Rich Adams (let’s call him Rich to differentiate him the the author of ‘Watership Down’) doesn’t exactly endear himself with a whistled intro and refrain on ‘Chemicals and Circumstance’, a gentle muse on evolution, biology and existence. It’s breezy, with a jazzy swing to it, and altogether too cheery for its own good. Moreover, these idle, unanswerable ponderences are as pointlessly irritating as pop jazz and whistling. ‘Ghosts in our Suitcases’ is considerably better, as it’s just forgettable.
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