Gawd help us, Trev, lighten up a bit. For those that don’t know, Trev Williams acts as a sort of one-man Faringdon music scene (at least since the promising Belarus went south), turning out earnest acoustic laments by the barrel-load. I found his early stuff dull, detecting nothing but sophomoric self-pity, but enjoyed his full-length ‘Guiding Star’ record, mostly for its subtle arrangements and excellent vocal harmonies

Sadly, for this demo, Williams has junked all that, preferring to fly solo, with pretty insipid results. ‘Do you know me?’ at least shows Trev in good voice, displaying the acuity of a young Cat Stevens, but the tune itself is nothing but the usual compendium of sad-sack singer-songwriter commonplaces.The level doesn’t improve with ‘Hide and Seek’, a short minor-key dirge, which nevertheless feels too long.

Even Williams’ strong vocal ability is defeated by the truly awful piano ballad, ‘Honey trap’, during which he sounds like his nuts are being periodically scraped with a cheesegrater, and the tune ends with a desultory blues solo. Huey Smith he ain’t.

It may be a bit rough to diss these songs too much, given they are clearly very rough demos, and Williams’ strengths as an arranger haven’t been brought to bear on them yet. Still, even making allowances, the tunes seem far inferior to his ‘Girlfriend’, ‘I did it for you’ and others. Perhaps he is more concerned with his group, The Follys. But I would nonetheless be worried about the lack of maturity in the lyrics and the musical predictability. Williams, like Chris Martin, seems a man with nothing interesting to say, but compelled to write songs in any case. This is the sound of a potentially decent singer-songwriter treading water.

“8-Hour Jazz Marathon: 2 songs will be played”. Not the best Simpsons joke in the world, but you know what they’re driving at.That is, that most normal human beings see jazz as esoteric, indulgent and elitist. Cropredy four-piece, The Colins of Paradise (no relation) are none of these things, although their brand of smooth jazz-pop is intimidatingly slick.

‘139′, which opens this EP, highlights the classy tenor playing of Jon Seagroatt and the summery vocal nuances of Bobbie Watson, the latter combining the coolness of Sade, the effervesence of Cyndi Lauper and an airiness seemingly all her own.The tune itself is functional funk, anchored by an icily solid rhythm section, and is full of scary modulations, apparently designed to overburden the humble rock donkey.On repeated listening it becomes more enjoyable, but I must warn that there is a bass solo at the end.Did I hear someone say “Commercial Death?”

‘Be Still’, a syrupy Rhodes piano-led confection, is a little glutinous for my taste, but provides balm to soothe the senses of bolshie girlfriends, so it has a place in the world, I reckon. I like the chord changes in the chorus, but there is more lyrical repetition than in an eighteenth-century opera aria.

The closing ‘Pearls’ bears a significant resemblance to Lauper’s ‘Time after Time’, before loping cheerfully into periods of jazz-disco. Come again? Yes, it’s a double tenor-sax solo, but you can dance to it! Genius. Bobbie’s singing is urgent and thrilling, and although the song itself is an unwieldy beast, it is essentially loveable. Think the aardavark or duck-billed platypus of jazz-funk.

The Colins have plenty of lively ideas, strong musicianship and an excellent lead singer. I’m not sure many folk on the Oxford scene will get what they are doing-sometimes they seem to playing Channel 5 shag-music and sometimes elevator muzak. But in between the cheesy bits, there are some cool tunes. Perhaps Jazz isn’t a four-letter word after all.