The distance between what Matthew Herbert is trying to say on There’s Me and There’s You and what we hear is so massive you could fit two military-industrial complexes between the two. And therein lies the problem.

Herbert believes this album is a clarion call for artists everywhere; the front cover is a petition signed by artists who believe in the political power of music. Songs cover such themes as the failures of the Bush administration and the folly of a capitalistic consumer culture, all on an album retailing for $16.99. The artist expects you to follow along with liner notes in hand to penetrate The Most Important Message of Our Time. These linear notes encapsulate the problem with the album. Take this precious excerpt: “‘One Life’ includes the sounds of: one beep from the alarm system of my premature son’s neonatal special care unit, each beep represents 100 people killed in Iraq since the start of the war in 2003 to Oct 2006… one 10 pound note being torn in to 3 pieces, where each part represents 1 trillion dollars.” None of this comes across in the music. It’s like a talented high school production of No Logo: The Musical. Impressive, sure, but probably not the best way to get a message across.

Separated from its politics, There’s Me and There’s You is left with boozy and theatrical big-band fun backed by the bombastic vocals of Eska Mtungwazi. An infectious joy runs through the album that no amount of pretension could quell, and Herbert’s songs can recall Quincy Jones and Rent on single song. It’s fun, but that’s all There’s Me and There’s You is, despite its protests.