Love lost on me

What a day. Staff absences have meant that I have been the sole member of editorial staff in my office for almost three weeks now, which means single-handedly writing and producing a newspaper, including taking all the photographs and laying out all the copy.

But yet again I pulled it off and the paper is complete for another week. So I am now lounging on the couch, browsing the worldwide interweb and listening to Love's Forver Changes.

I've had the album for a few years, but have never really been able to get into it. Some people I know think it is the work of bona fide genii (which I believe is the plural of genius). It may well be, but something about it just never floated my boat in the same way that many albums from that same era have.

I'd much rather have the psychedelic wooziness of The Beatles at their most experimental, the all-out, good time, bluesy rock'n'roll of the Stones, the sheer ferocity of The Who, the English whimsy and tongue-in-cheek humour of The Kinks, the organ-backed howl of The Doors or the harmonic blend of Simon and Garfunkel.

In fact, when you throw Dylan, The Zombies and the Small Faces into the mix, Love struggle to make my top ten of bands from the 60s.

Don't get me wrong, it's a good album. It just doesn't strike that chord with me, and joins a list of other musical acts that I've never really been able to fathom, amongst them Springsteen, The Strokes and Captain Beefheart.