In
the sixties simplicity went super: supersonic, supergroup, superstar,
supercalifragilisticexpialidocious, superrealism, supersaturation. Perhaps it
was compensation for simply being Clark Kent, no add-ons. James Morrison
Superband, fifty years after, is a charming afterthought, a combo stepping from
a tardis in search of a name. Full houses can’t be wrong, as the supervisor has
it; the supersleuths laid out the evidence in a perfect denouement. Unaffected
by the green-eyed monster Kryponite, Superband did it their way, unerringly, as
November always rhymes with Remember; stuck together as superglue holds fast
the most disparate elements. The Daily Planet gave them a super review.
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