THE POPPIES. Note oblique drug reference.

Subtle as a flying tank, The Poppies write lyrics like "take a letter, you'll feel better" (from 'Love Trippin'', suitably enough) and "OK, we're going to party tonight/Happy faces, happy faces . . .".

Sometimes they go for the direct hit, like "A mushroom clouds my thoughts today/As the trees all cry their leaves away/The acid's dropping in my eyes/Where everything lives, now everything dies."

The Poppies' main chance of contributing anything beneficial to civilisation lies in the fact that their lyrics may one day be used to convince young people that drugs really can fuck up your brain and leave you with the intelligence quotient of Bez.

There are times when lyrical incompetence is forgivable, of course, but The Poppies have a tendency to marry their psychedelic worldview to music that tries too hard to be psychedelic. Honeybee for the most part winds up sounding quite pretty, but dull.

Liberty Martin's voice is light and fluffy and innocent, slightly inappropriate for the tales of weekend trippin' and groovin' she sings. It's a voce that makes their cover of 'all Tomorrow's Parties' sound wholesome as Little Johnny Osmond. At their best ('Wonderdrug'), The Poppies sound a little like an over-excited Beloved and, at their worst, like flower children whose inspiration is rapidly wilting around the edges.

The first two tracks, 'She Is Revolution' and 'That's What We'll Do', are the least contrived on the album and most deserving of the term "poppy", and it's in this area that they should concentrate their energies, rather than on twaddle about sun kings, rain queens, and soulflowers.

Until The Poppies have learned to do this, kids, just say no.

• Lorraine Freeney