Is it possible - just possible - that this is actually becoming less enjoyable the more it goes on? What started out as effortlessly cool and swinging, now starts to sound soporific, nodding, strung out. Maybe it's just me. The voice is still holding out to an incredible extent. And having preferred the smaller group on the previous outing, the orchestral arrangements here are fantastic. It's very short, presumably to fit on one side of a 78. But it packs a punch. Valentine's Day, 1955. I wonder what the plan for the day was. Champagne to finish off, perhaps. Or something stronger.

Man, Irving Berlin. That dude was 101 when he died, in 1989! That just doesn't seem possible. A survivor. He outlived Billie by forty years. I wonder what he thought about her, her legacy, all the crappy imposters who came afterwards. Imagine having your songs sung by Bille and Elvis, Frank and Dean. Dylan and Cohen, Gaga and Streisand. Straight outta Imperial Russia, it's our main man, Irving Berlin.

I'm struggling to stop it fading into the background, and that's not what I want. Classics are classics though. And familiarity breeds contempt, no matter what the source material.