David Gray: 'You're The World To Me'

We'd probably be well within our rights to poke David Gray with a very pointy stick every time we hear some soppy, watery, namby-pamby acoustic cack on our nation's airwaves. Gray's breakthrough with 'Babylon' in 2001 gave record companies a licence to print cash by snapping up bland, furrow-browed strummers and branding them as 'serious artists'. Paulo Nutini, James Morrison, Daniel Powter, James Blunt, blah, blah, etc, etc. It's far easier to keep some earnest, wet, guitar-trundler toeing the record company line than a troublesome boyband, or catty girl group. Plus your parents will dig them as well, which is always handy for a couple of million sales.

However, Gray has always remained a cut above the rest, which makes taking out our anger and general frustration on him for Blunt and co an impossible task. He's just too damn bleedin' good at making chest-beating anthems with tender underbellies for us to stay cross at him. In fact, it's more likely by the end of the three minutes you'll be wanting to give David a big cuddle rather than attack him sharp objects. His throaty vocals are still as enchanting as on his White Ladder days, and his knack for stuffing a pop hook inside atmospheric, yearning ballads hasn't been lost over the years. It's a shame that the track is only a snifter to entice us into a best of collection, when an album of new material would be a more exciting proposition. Record companies, what would you do with them?