This eagerly awaited album, received by me with at least the joyous expectation of the birth of my children, lives right up to the hype. In my humble opinion, Katie and Peter have assaulted the Alpine peaks of music, achieving not only the Matterhorn but the Horn too.
I played the album to myself for the first time and it was as if musical intercourse was taking place - my prolapsed rectum is a small price to play for the experience. I played it to my wife and she shat herself, then left me for a Peter Andre look-alike in the next village. I invited the vicar round for a listen and he wept and came twice in his pants. I played it to my deaf grandmother and suddenly she could miraculously hear again, vowing to remodel her life on Jordan's (albeit in her case a sort of croaking, wrinkly and incontinent Jordan). Even now, on the tenth play, I can feel the probing (nay, anal-probing) urgency of the music, searching, exploring and yet soothing; allowing a greater force to penetrate every willing orifice of my corporeal being.
Yet there is blues and pathos in their melodies. Whereas the studied tone-paintings of Bony M, the Wombles and One Direction merely took us to the bottom of the North Sea, Katie and Peter plumb the very depths of the Marianas Trench, and would go deeper still if only the earth's crust wasn't in the way.
The sphincter of musical opportunity is now truly wide open for them.