First as a member of The Soft Boys, then Robyn Hitchcock & The Egyptians and most recently with Venus 3, Robyn Hitchcock has been making various degrees of sense or otherwise for four decades. A Syd Barrett for our times, Robyn Hitchcock has weaved his folk and punk web of psychedelia, casting a mystifying and whimsical spell with lyrics that sometimes seem to have no grounding in reality, just metre, rhyme and happening to have the right sound for the right moment.

But to dismiss his work as mere eccentricity would be most unfair: like all the dreaming troubadours, time and time again he has created moments of singular stillness. On the mostly acoustic Eye, he scatters these moments like gold-dust - following the bar-room madness of Certainly Cliquot with the melancholic Queen Elvis. Similarly, Linctus House follows Executioner, and later he sandwiches Agony of Pleasure between Rainy Twilight Coast and the exquisite Glass Hotel. As the song swings round it moves from shade to light, sometimes reflecting the sound of Hitchcock straining in the upper register - “There was someone standing with you who just wasn’t there at all” - then absorbing and internally reflecting its follow-up - “And you were laughing” - leaving only his arpeggiated guitar. Beautiful.