‘Jingle jingle jangle watch how my melodies dangle’ is what Missy Elliot would have said in I’m Really Hot if she was a big Skeet fan, or a forgotten-yet-to-be-written line from Mikey Young’s forthcoming rap album about how much he digs lost English pop music. Regardless of whether they are aware or not, there’s a lot owed to Skeet from all over the spectrum that flutters from Slowdive to Ausemuteants. A prime example of why it is important to care about history, Skeet rippled out of the Coventry scene that birthed The Specials and company, yet play with a sound that would not get it’s true dues until almost twenty years later. The vocals remind of Dry Cleaning or Life Without Buildings while the guitars tickle the neck hairs of two-tone over drum machine work that could come from an abandoned Suicide jam. Simple Reality is an exercise in restraint, haunting and halated with the soft light of morning, an album for the tape deck of a nineties car, for the taint week at the end of the year where everything feels a bit strangely sad, for a day lying down watching the birds, for the beautiful melancholy of living.