Dark brooding eyes, focused beyond into realms beyond the edge of night, deep regrets, oppressive concerns, silence that reached into his very core. Imitative is essentially unexpressive. If he sings exactly like Marvin Gaye, he sings one whit nothing like himself. Who is he? Sounds like the Spinners. Who is he really? No one knows and no one, perhaps, will ever know except the tiny glimpses hid between his lines, the Thelonious Monk unplayed notes lost in a syncopated rhythm.
Lord Malinov, Song of Songs