Not many people know that Hannibal lost one of his eyes during the crossing of the Apennines in 217 BC, nor that the spectactularly-named Roman general Quintus Cunctator prevented him from finding it again on the way back. Still. It's always fun and games...

This song is more summery than a six-pack of Lilt, and even borrows a bass line from Grease soundtrack-botherer Summer Lovin' for a bar or two. And yet, like so many Barker compositions, there's a darker message if you scratch the surface. Warning: do not scratch surface.

This one channels the Rockney spirit of both Chas and Dave and wouldn't sound out of place being played on a joanna (that's cockerney for 'a piano-forte') in some boozer (that's what cockneys call a 'pub'). Gertcha! (That's what you get for asking stupid questions.)

A song called Looking Up would have to be one ironic son-of-a-gun to actually be pessimistic, and we're not in the business of irony. Or son-of-a-gunnery. Nope. This here's a happy tune.

This sharp-edged Hammond-driven indie-pop hyphen-loving sing-along is for anyone out there who ever wanted to be somebody else. Well, not impressionists or identity thieves. We were thinking more of the stereotypically angst-ridden teen.

55% of you thought this version of Mrs Bloom was better than the other one, which is good enough for us. And the most frequently used adjective to describe it is 'catchy', which also appeals to us. However, the one word most people use to sum up the video is 'disturbing', which is honest if nothing else...

If Guinness were in the business of plucking unknown bands from obscurity by using their highly suitable songs on their adverts, they could do worse than pick this one, although they would probably want to drop the swear words. WARNING: this song contains one swear word (The 'F' one).

Who is Martha, and what's going on in her corner? Nately lyricist Niall Barker remains tightlipped, but when he's producing acoustic ballads as beautiful as this, who cares? This is the band's first release in 2006 and it's only November. December promises to be a prodigious month.

This jaunty set-opener sees the Nately songsmith bemoaning the lack of anything decent on TV. Prison Break aside, he's got a point. It also sees the usually harmony-dodging Al earn his money for once (£2.50 on this occasion, and that's before expenses).

Bitching about living in London is one of the few pleasures Londoners have left. This masterclass in minor-key melancholia will probably give them something else to moan about ("It's no Waterloo Sunset..."). Yeah? Well if Terry met Julie at Waterloo station nowadays, it would only be to go nickin' iPods up the Embankment.

Niall Barker takes social commentary to a new level with this... er... social commentary about being kept on hold, squeezable cheese and schoolyard stabbings. There's another one in there (second verse, second line) but it's probably best if we don't pop up in Google for that search.

The title track of nately's best (and only) release to date, this jaunty pop tune belies its rather dark subject matter (people are all the same, as Sly would put it). Keep your ears open for the bridge, when it really kicks in.

This power ballad has an almost country 'n' western feel, perhaps due to the inclusion of the phrase "Hey cowboy". Either way, the chorus ("everybody's got a place where they belong") should appeal to everyone, except maybe the homeless.

'Dark'. That's the only word for this one. Or maybe 'haunting'. Nately wordsmith Niall Barker refuses to be drawn on the metaphorical relevance of Mr Pope, but the smart money is on dope, or perhaps soap-on-a-rope.

An uplifting indie-rock classic, Condescension breaks all the rules: the chorus has no words, the ending is nicked (much obliged, Mr Bowie) and the second verse is the same as the first. Who knew recycling could be so much fun?

A frequent set-opener, this perfectly-formed slice of indie/rock usually sets out nately's stall nicely, except when Niall's guitar lead falls out during the intro. This has happened more times than you might think, and has been variously blamed on inferior leads, sabotage and over-exuberance from the energetic frontman.

Whether the first verse includes a thinly-veiled reference to oral sex or not, no-one from Nately Towers was prepared to comment, but it probably does. The chorus, however, contains no such ambiguity, and delivers the same 'heart-warming' message as the film The Fifth Element.

A far moodier affair than the previous track, this song is notable for the satisfying but risky strategy of stopping unexpectedly. Beatles fans might recognise this technique from I Want You (She's So Heavy), from which it is lifted wholesale.

With a song-writer as prolific as Niall, nately usually have little recourse to cover versions. However, with a crowd of hardened gamblers to impress, the band took the decision to play something they might know. They didn't. And that's our friends cheering at the end, but only 'cos the dealer just bust.

Another golden oldie from a time when nately were a five-piece called clumsy. This one features Long Tall Peter Wright on bass (listen out for the name check after 1m57s), and Al on rhythm guitar. It's also nearly five minutes long, which was the nately way back then.

This recording was made with legendary producer John Rivers some time last century, but time hasn't dulled the production quality (we achieved that all on our own by squeezing it into MP3 format). Once again, the Bard Barker holds his tongue over the identity of song's subject matter, but she sounds lonely.

This homage to the Great Indoors would be perfect for the Agorophobics Society (they could play it at their big meetings). It also features one of the band's easiest-to-remember choruses and frequently gets the audience joining in. Some even get the word right.

Nately word merchant Niall Barker's omerta-like silence over the true identity of Catherine contrasts heavily with his loquacity about the song's overly sweet lyrics. He doesn't like 'em, and diabetics would do well to steer clear.

Actually not new and frankly unchanged since it's inception some years ago, is this a cynical dig at Oasis for stealing the music of better men or simply music stolen from better men? Or is it just music to sell soap powder to?

If the Isley Brothers had a dollar for every time someone ripped off their guitar sound, this track would make them ever so slightly richer. Ironically, it's one of the few nately tracks that doesn't beg the question "who's that lady?"

This track marks the band's brief - and some might say ill-fated - foray into the world of Acid Jazz. Anyone who remembers the 'quality' of drum synthesisers in the mid-90's will probabaly want to give this one a miss