Brian Kennedy’s souless singing lends nothing to this otherwise delightful piece of whimsy. The man sounds like he’s never farted. You can’t have Kennedy involved in a song that contains the exquisite couplet “I turn around to look at you as you light a cigarette, I wish I had the guts to bum one but we’ve never met.” Bleed, Kennedy! Don’t waste it! ‘Spitfire Summer’ is classic Turner where the words and melody appear to fly out of her mouth as if drawn by some benign harmonic succubus, and ‘Falling’ has Juliet lying to us as she declares she used to be a poet. She still is.