Somewhere along the way, an entire generation of breakfast eaters were treated to / threatened with contrived variations on the cereal theme: rice puffs with marshmallows, rice puffs with chocolate flavoring that turned the milk brown, red and white puffs in time for Christmas, rice puffs pressed into mini-squares, or some gagging combination of all of the above.

For some reason, that meal evolution sprung to mind when I first popped (as in, snapped, crackled and �) the Huns & Dr. Beeker CD. Straightforward, comforting and unadorned, this warm and nourishing band reminds me of breakfast's early (or later, making it brunch) qualities: healthy, uncomplicated, energy-building fare that sets the tone (or tune) for the rest of the day. What you see is what you get with this belly-full, meaning there's no need to read the side panel to decipher its contents, additives, or number of empty calories. And, not to put too fine a point on it (why stop now?), virtually no cuts resembling the gritty, lumpy, pasty, clumps throughout old fashioned porridge that's been subjected to new fashioned nuking. Stick-to-your-innards gruel making, as with stick-to-your-soul music making, ought never be hurried.

This is music the way music was intended to be consumed, based on the person's personal and particular daily needs, wants and if you're really lucky, with an especially cool surprise inside (don't even try pretending you didn't at least try to grab that box before your big sib could get it, then pour out the cereal in a mixing bowl, retrieve the rubber toy soldier or glow-in-the-dark locket, refill the box and attempt to slyly re-seal it before breakfast).

In Huns & Dr. Beeker's case that surprise was cut number two (remember, I'm not making this up, this is pure cosmic coincidence at play here): a song called "Cereal Girl". Quirky yet sincere, this cut isn't the only treasure here. Each and every cut harkens to a musical and cultural era of seemingly simple yet profoundly hypnotizing harmonies, not unlike The Eagles, Jan and Dean and even America.

No modern-day layers of irony, or worse, cynicism, no nerve-jangling musical pyrotechnics, not even a hint of pity, pathos or self-aggrandizing lyrics or melodies. The Middle of Somewhere is a soothing, somewhat introspective, solidly captivating buffet of talent that leaves you with a good taste in your mouth, and with a positively sunny outlook on the day. Just like your fave childhood cereal before somebody decided cereal wasn't only supposed to keep your tummy from grumbling before lunch hour, but should also meet the psychological, physical, emotional, spiritual and environmental needs of an athletic, Mensa member and part-time Buddhist in need of a food fix before tackling the day.