All I know is what I'm missing/ What I'm missing is your kissing/ Are you listening ?

Go ahead

I think now is the time to briefly depart from the pop starlet precedent I seem to be setting. However tempting it is to immerse myself entirely in a world populated by pouting teens contorting themselves into sexually objectified poses, pop joy is an expansive thing not to be limited by degrees of separation to the Olsons. Thanks to my vast network mytunes pillage, a whole new delicious horizon of other people's pop love stretches out before me.

Now, pop-rock is a tricky terrain to navigate. Do you err on the side of 'Air Hostess' or '3am'? Overdo the bouncy hook or risk 'alternative rock' classification? America maintains a whole genre of strummingly insightful menfolk, who must have been raised on an overdose of cough syrup to maintain the scratchy vocal chords which Jack Daniels has obviously had no hand in creating. Over here? Not so. John Mayer, Ryan Cabrera, who? Their coffee-shop soliloquys may eventually blend into a pleasant playlist for when I need to concentrate on something else (attempts to write a precise essay on Locke and personal identity fail miserably when Gwen demands your enrapt attention), but they hardly manage the joyful exuberance and insistent repetition which elevate them to true pop-rock classics.

Which brings me to Hanson. Yes, you may be sceptical considering it's been seven whole years since they last made any true impact on the collective pop consciousness, but those Mmmbopping identikit midgets have finally turned in a record of true brilliance and irresistible dance-ability. 'Lost Without Each Other' has the mindlessly cheerful guitar loop, building anticipation layers in the bridge, and jaunty sing-along chorus that proclaims "We're no Sampson! See how the loss of our luscious locks hasn't robbed us of pop-rock supremacy; you're bouncing already!"

But that was inevitable. These are the boys that had us pondering whether daisies or roses would grow, regardless of the fact they could have been singing about gang-raping Snoop Dogg with his own soft porn DVDs in the rest of the verse. Sure it took them a few filler albums to deliver, and switching their 'black and white, spontaneous jam session' video for the 'Penny & Me' Samaire Armstrong appreciation would endear the experience to me further (since that woman is surely the quirky nu-alterna goddess archetype?), but this is pretty damn perfect as stands. And with Gregg Alexander co-crafting the gem, how could they fail? This is the man that stamped 'Get What You Give' onto the hearts of ilxors with permanent ink!

In fact, the only way Hanson could have increased the song's overwhelmingly infectious pedigree would have been to recruit OKGo to rewrite the middle 8 guitar solo. But, sadly, they have their own brilliantly irrelevant careers to struggle on with.

See how their hair still shimmers in the late sun here