Moto Boy Oh Martha. It seems somewhat ********* to cover, with but your guitar and a tender voice, an Andrew Lloyd Weber song. Free of ostentation and production values what is left is the stark emotion of the song. Its similar to when ballboy covered Born in the USA on their album from a few years back. I never appreciated the heartbreak and despair in the lyrics because of the bombast of Brooce's performance but later, 20 years on, when Gordon ballboy stripped it down to a guitar and withheld the chorus until the end it turned incredibly unfamiliar, it was transformed into something poignant and filled with melancholia. Of course then I was duly excoriated by a Brooce fan for not having noticed this previously but whatever. Pie Jesu has always been desperately sad and beautiful but it's inherent qualities are diminished not at all by the presentation here. Moto Boy with his flying v guitar, a touch of ambient tinkering and a double tracked vocal succeeds splendidly in capturing the delicate essence of a magnificent song without attenuation. "Merciful Jesus". It's a spartan mix, all throughout the EP but it is astonishingly gorgeous. Second song. Another cover. Another classical piece. This time Dvorak. Gypsies. When I arrived at Denver International Airport there were Roma there playing Christmas songs on an accordion. Each and all were dressed in white with primary sash's and collectively homely expressions and a definitive failure to evoke sympathy from anyone waiting to board their plane. If they had played in the manner of this instead it might have elicited a different perspective from everyone present. This is wordless. Mainly a lone keyboard and a violin. Again, it is magnificent. Which other pop performers would attempt something such as this? I posted before over its loveliness and truly it is art, a piece of magical construction to hold and savour for all of your days. Third song, an original. You might think it a risk but it's as beautiful as the two remarkable versions that had preceded it. What test of economic theory this provides, as art, unquestionably and it's fair value has been designated 2 dollars from Klicktrack. 2 dollars per download. Preposterous. We might need to evaluate all of the rules for assigning worth to goods and services if in their strangely flawed world this isn't immediately characterized as essentially priceless. "I'm in a room with you, I miss everything we had". In his most fragile tones. A mix of his minimal guitar style and echo enshrouded keyboards and the dream of romance. It sounds loads more confident than the album, which I love, everyone should. There seems a mastered new competence in arranging, in playing, in singing that must be derivative of the 100s of shows he's played this year. He's a star, somewhere. Next he does the impossible, he attempts Ave Maria. Once more into the breech. It is no Maria Callas but this is still inspired in its miniaturized take on Schubert. I've heard worse. Step forward Delores O'Riordan. It seems to be sense and tone more than a faithful cover unless perhaps he's performing it in Swedish. I am familiar with most of the lyrics and they don't appear to have made it to the final recording. Instead what has been presented is a touching performance of the essential spirit of the song with his guitar, violins and hope. It is fitting for this record, this tiny little marvel of experiment and emotion. It seems wonderfully sad that he should have recorded this and approached his label with trepidation over their acceptance. Who could witness such elusive majesty and not come away moved by the experience. Last song. Suo Gan. I am not familiar with this. It's astonishing all the same. These songs are unmistakably Moto Boy, already he has a trademark way with a minimal balld bathed in moonlight and melancholia. Apparently this is Welsh, though here performed in english, flawlessly, with tear drop keyboards and a warm resonating vocal to bring about the embers of the good tidings of the holiday season within every heart in audience. It's truly improper to label these tiny or miniaturized, it's an epic sound he's achieved by exploding the power of his heart outside his chest as if some beacon illuminating the cold distant fierce isolation of a world that has forsaken grace for pragmatism.