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"Why must I always play the clown?" howls Mr Hudson to meek guitar strains, but instead of the expected made-for-Hollyoaks Brit-rock Too Late, Too Late breaks into a casual reggae beat. Maybe there's a reason that Zane Lowe declared this the 'hottest record in the world'; it's that damn good.
Mr Hudson is perhaps representative of a generation of educated, middle class twentysomethings who perhaps indulge in activities that the law would frown upon, but who are united by an eclectic taste in music. An Oxford education hasn't resulted in Mr Hudson's song writing suffering from delusions of grandeur. Instead there's an intelligent simplicity and universality about Too Late, Too Late.
Although Mr Hudson And The Library are being mentioned in the same breath as Lily Allen and The Streets their sound is less fresh, but ultimately more refined. Too Late, Too Late's almost desperate plea to evolve into a hip-hop number is answered in a remix that would sit pretty next to the best of Roots Manuva. Quite simply Mr Hudson And The Library are going to be huge in 2007, anything less would be a travesty.
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