At an age when he should be more concerned about whether the government will stick to its promise regarding the Triple Lock, shocked at the price of Lurpak and wondering what the hell he went upstairs for, Barron instead embraces the philosophy of Ronnie Van Zant on Sweet Home Alabama and proceeds to ‘turn it up’.

I should warn you (SPOILER ALERT) that Cruising the Void begins benignly, lulling the listener into a completely false sense of security with the opener Molly’s Theme, a short, lovely, semi-classical piece, bringing to mind pictures of Mozart snorting coke in a Viennese garret, quill in hand as he runs off another timeless classic while watching Series Three of Game of Thrones. At this point you might be tempted to pick up the CD cover – just to make sure this is a Peter Barron album – and if you’re wearing earphones you’ll quickly drop it again as Fifty-Fifty assaults your aural appendages with power chords straight from an overload on the National Grid. This is Heavy – with a capital ‘aitch’.

It’s a bit like what a combination of Judas Priest and AC/DC would sound like if they were a Buddy Holly and the Crickets tribute band playing Not Fade Away. Barron growls his way through it like a half-starved dingo while drummer, Nick Harradence obviously has no need to work out at the gym – as he gets all the exercise he requires behind his kit. I hope he appreciates that Barron must be saving him a fortune.

Let It Rock is more in the way of mainstream, with Marc Bolan, Chuck Berry and the Stones jamming in a parallel universe – and what’s not to like about that? It has a great groove about it and if your toes aren’t tapping then it must be because you’re legless. The barrage of sound continues with She’s Too Tough (For The Boys), Barron’s tribute to pioneering Punk Princess, Joan Jett. Excellent riffing here with an interesting change in melody in the chorus which I found myself singing as I was preparing my fish fingers next day.

There’s now a welcome chance to catch our collective breath with Brighter Day, a song with a sixties vibe – I could imagine it playing on the car radio in an episode of Randall & Hopkirk – Deceased, and maybe a nod to Donovan’s Museum. Barron hopes for better things to come when his sins are washed away – don’t we all! Nice 12 string guitar embellishments and it’s an excellent song with a feel good factor that’ll put a smile on your face.

…until Frankenstein, in which Mary Shelley meets Black Sabbath and they all live happily ever after in Transylvania in Boris Karloff’s ruined castle where they hear I’m Cryin’ – and proceed to jive to images of The Beatles singing Everybody Wants to Be My Baby while Francis Rossi and Rick Parfitt are writing Paper Plane with Igor in the next room. There’s no let up as Backs Against The Wall continues the ‘Air Guitarist’s Guide to Heavy Metal’. Is this a song about climate change – or just a paean to the Universe in general being shafted? Gloom is the keyword here anyway – the Operating Manual for Spaceship Earth has ended up in the paper recycle bin and been carted off.

Brand New Shoes is a breath of fresh air – it could be a duet by Harry Belafonte and Paulo Nutini. It sounds deceptively cheery, but the lyrics belie that – he bought her new shoes and all she used them for was to walk out on him, Better stick to a Prada handbag next time Peter. Annabella is a return of power chords in a wind tunnel with Edgar Allan Poe strutting his stuff on a radio mic. It’s the heavy metal equivalent of the folk standard She Moved Through The Fair – Barron has past form for entering these quasi Twilight Zone regions – and he’s perfectly at home there. God only knows where Nick Harradence gets his energy from – it’s got to be more than a Vitamin B supplement, surely?

The album ends on a poignant note with My Dreams Don’t Know You’re Gone – a personal tribute which those of us of a certain age will identify with only too well. It features a superb lead guitar solo that made my eyes mist over.

I read last week that Katy Perry has sold her back catalogue for $225 million. I wonder what Barron would get for his? A fine from the Noise Abatement Society probably. It’s an unfair world – but he knows that.

Davy McGowan.

Why ‘The Fifty Fifty Affair?’ Is it about marriage? Sharing the takeaway bill? The chance of a Labour government at the next election? Best cancel that last one….and get on with the job of listening to the album.

HUMAN RACE – Be prepared. Barron doesn’t hang about – as the opening bacon-slicer of a riff proves. It’s the musical equivalent of Alex Ferguson’s hairdryer, and rocks you back on your heels. Fortunately, I remember the 70s – when riffs like this were the norm from The Stones, Bowie, and T. Rex. (God help the Millennials!) All human life is here, from the Chinese Tao to Donovan, as Barron tries to get his head round what’s happening in his life. He’s looking for serious answers to the serious questions he has, as all great artists do – even though they know they’ll never find them. He’s monumentally pissed off with things, but will probably forego all the philosophy and follow Hendrix’s advice when he said, ‘That’s alright – I’ve still got my guitar.’

TOP CAT – This made me smile – surely even Officer Dibble would have a chortle at this quasi Nelson Riddle arrangement of the old TV favourite, Drummer Nick Harradence must have loved having the chance to showcase his jazz skills, instead of battering the hell out of his kit and losing half a stone every session, and there’s also an excellent Nina Simone-esque piano from Neil Seymour. A very original cover.

FREEZE – Did you ever wonder what the Stones would sound like if they merged with U2? Well, I think it might be something like this. Barron’s had a rough time. ‘The hurt runs deep,’ he sings – and you can feel it in his cutting guitar. It’s a rock song, but it’s a singer/songwriter lyric. Maybe if Robert Lowell had been in a rock band with Sylvia Plath on bass they’d have come up with something like this. There’s rage, anger and confusion in Barron, which he condenses like an alchemist into a strict rock format. Great guitar playing – what a joy it is to hear someone playing like it’s 1974 – and wonderful drumming from Nick too.

LOW DOWN – For me, Tom Waits is the greatest songwriter who ever lived – and you have to be careful when you cover him – but there are no worries here. This is certainly low down dirty rock and roll – it’s ZZ Top jamming with Bowie and the Spiders. You’ve got to hear this to believe it. Wonderful stuff.

LOCKED IN THE GROOVE – This is the equivalent of hearing Donovan’s ‘Hey Gyp, Dig the Slowness’ after snorting 6 grams of coke and dropping two acid tabs! There’s no shortage of angst on this album – it’s not for the Wokerati or the faint-hearted. A wonderful production job with echoed guitars and a sense that Barron’s nicked Phil Spector’s Wall of Sound – now that Phil has no more use for it. This is heavy man!

YOU DON’T HAVE TO BE IN THE ARMY – A punk rock version of the Mungo Jerry classic written by Ray Dorset – who many people think is actually called Mungo Jerry. Dorset’s early lyrics give sexism a bad name – but Mighty Man and Baby Jump still soared high in the charts – of course that was before the snowflakes took over and decided it was sexual harassment to tell a pretty girl she’s pretty. This is in many ways a protest song. I don’t know where Dorset got the title from – he probably saw someone wearing a t-shirt with that printed on it. The original jug band, happy-go-lucky sound belies the fact that it’s really a desperately sad lyric at bottom, with a man who has ended up with nothing becoming the victim of police brutality in the end. Barron rattles through it at the pace of The Damned, occasionally glancing at drummer Nick to see if he’s struggling to keep up – but he’s got plenty left in the tank.

YOU CAME CREEPING – A heavy riff, heavy rock song with dark lyrics that pound like a steam hammer. If there’s a jukebox in Hell this will be on it. The Dr. Who Radiophonic Workshop intro lulls you into a false sense of security before it fades out, and then AC/DC featuring Ted Nugent take control. A very personal song written for someone very special who is no longer with us. The pain of loss is locked in the groove here. Dylan was surprised that so many people could say ‘Blood On The Tracks’ was great – when there was so much pain on it (as the title implies) The same might be said of this album. Barron takes his pain, anger and angst and turns it into great music.

WILD CHILD – I’ve heard it said of Lou Reed that he’s like Marmite – you either love him or hate him. To me he’s more like HP Sauce – essential on everything, except ice cream. I grew up with Transformer and Berlin – but I think my favourite Reed album is New York. When I first heard Reed’s ‘Wild Child ‘I was struck with the notion that musically it was a mix of elements of Dylan’s ‘Just Like Tom Thumb’s Blues’ and ‘Visions of Johanna’ – it’s a fine song anyway and Barron does it full justice, beefing it up into a grunge like rock anthem.

THE END OF THE PIER SHOW – A much more acoustic feel to this – and a hint of nostalgia, like Donovan’s ‘Old Fashioned Picture Book’. Yeah, we’re all getting older, old and nostalgic. A song about the passing of time and the changes that involves, like watching re-runs of The Sweeney on ITV 3. Really nice Wurlitzer organ sound, again evoking those….well, those end of the pier shows and Archie Rice in Osborne’s The Entertainer. Excellent.

MY BABY’S LIKE A CLOUD FORM – Barron ends up where he began all those years ago in 1970 with Marc Bolan. He’s really flummoxed me with this. I thought I had heard everything Bolan ever recorded (including Unicorn Horn!) but I’ve missed this one. It’s actually very good and has an outtake from Electric Warrior feel about it, though I’m unclear as to when the original was recorded. Nick is perfect as Mickey Finn on the congas. So, Barron finishes on an upbeat note, though I think this song contains some sadness for him – but he’s moving forward determinedly – because he knows we’ll all meet up again somewhere down the line.

Are five stars the most I can give? Pity – this album deserves more.