'ello! Bloody Dick, 'ere. I play geetar for the Spunk Lads, the great lost London '77 punk band. Them's the critics words, not mine. "Greatest fookin' band ever," them's my words.

I've been asked to write a review ("hatchet job" we in the Lads call 'em) of the new Kramer album, The Greenberg Variations. Lucky for Kramer, I've been living in Brooklyn these last few years, been goin' to the pitch at Shea Stadium and studyin' up on America's mangled take on another of England's gifts to the colonies, rounders.

So before we get to the music, of which there's lots, how 'bout these song titles? All names of American baseball tosses. Fair enough. But this Greenberg guy, the big Jewish bloke, was a hitter. I guess these are all the tosses Greenberg turned to mush.

But bloody 'ell -- what is it about American rockers where they can't even get their own sport right? Bruce Springbean called it a "speed ball" on his "Glory Days" song, and now Kramer's come up with "slow ball." Maybe 'cuz he's wearin' a Yankees jersey makes him daff. The Yankees and Real Madrid were Franco's fave teams, y'know.

And 'ere, you know yer in trouble when the back of the CD just says "Kramer: all instruments." That usually means the main instrument is the skin flute, if you know wot I mean.

But I gotta say, the music's great. Here's the rub -- Hank Greenberg was the first Jewish superstar in baseball. Like Ronnie Rosenthal for Spurs -- except Tottenham fans turned opponents' Jew-bashing taunts into a pride label. In Detroit Motor City, Greenberg suffered the "sidddown, kike boy" bollocks on his own. Like yer man Jackie Robinson.

Any punk rocker can -- er, should -- appreciate the scrapes Greenberg endured. Epic, really. Kramer's music is dreamy, mystical, timeless, ghostly and, using a word I had'a look up, ethereal. Like if the movie Masada took place on Ellis Island, 1920.

Strings, horns, glockenspiel, accordions -- just the right amount. Okay, they're all keyboards. But old keyboards, mellotrons and clavinets. Everyone thinks that Bloody Dick -- that's me -- only likes the punk rock, bhangra and roots reggae. But I like Kramer's Greenberg Variations. It's like if they had Studio-1 dub plates a century ago.

And I know what I'm talkin' 'bout -- England is the home of great stringy music. We gave the world Bach, Beethoven, the Royal Albert Hall and Alistair Cooke -- not to mention all the old geezers sitting in molting easy chairs listening to 'em on the Beeb.

So Kramer's gone and done somethin' different. Shockabilly was daff and Bongwater was complete bollocks. But it's the top rank rockers that put their heart into new things, take risks, and fuck all. Gutter snipes know that, so do punk rockers who've gone beyond fashionista bands.

So on with ya, Kramer, you done good. Just don't come round Brooklyn or Notting Hill bleatin' on 'bout "slow balls." You won't like the result.