The British toytown pop sound was birthed in the late 60s, being mainly influenced by the more quasi-classical instrumental-edged and quirky-to-mundane character songs themed of The Beatles.  Here from Grapefruit, Cherry Reds 60’s psych-pop/ rock sub-label, is a recently released three-disc/ eight seven-track compilation celebrating the toytown pop sound- with a blend of known and more obscure names.

The three CDs each come in their own card sleeves, then these are presented in a bright and buoyant flip-side box with an orange, pink, yellow, and green colour scheme with an illustration of a merry-go-round with children on and surrounded by cute animals. The set features a thick 'n' glossy forty-eight-page booklet- this features a two-page article about the Toytown pop sound- then we get a short write-up about each of the eight seven tracks, as well as related cover artwork/ band pictures. So, another very classy bit of presentation/ packaging from the folks at Cherry Red.

The three discs take in songs from between the years 1967 and 1974, though it doesn’t run in a wholly chronological order. For the most part, it’s a consistent and at points quirkily surprising compilation. And below I’ll go through my disc-by-disc highlights.

So on disc one, we move from the joyful plodding keys 'n' horn work of Fruit Machine’s “Cuddly Toy”. Onto circus marching pomp ‘n’ prance along of Clifford T Ward’s “The Dubious Circus Company” with trumpeting trombones, skipping 'n' sailing orchestration, and the occasional elephant call.   There’s the jaunting harpsichord meets tinkling music box melody of Kidrocks “Ice Cream Man” which also features seagull samples and a swooning children's chorus.  We have the forlorn string lined to a tightly guitar-strummed chorus of Tim Andrew's “Sad Simon Lives Again” which when it kicks off has a sort of proto-white guy reggae strut.  There’s the vibe tinkling ‘n’ smashing tambourine edged rousing orchestrated pop of Morning Glories' “Marjory Daw”

On disc two we go from the urgent guitar ‘n’ grooving organ stomp of Jigsaw’s “Mr Job” with its cuckoo clock and crazy sound intro, and playful blues lick flashers. Onto bouncing bass, key tinkle, strummed cleaned guitar and flute embellishments of Fairfield Parlour’s “Glorious House of Arthur”. We have the tolling barroom keys meets saucy horn trumpeting of Denis Couldry’s “James in The Basement”. There’s the grooving organ ‘n’ tip-top beat of Complex’s “Lemon Pie Fair” which has sudden moments of slapstick music hall keys darts. There’s the joint child and triply echoed male vocals of Nirvana's “Everybody Loves the Clown” which has one or two breakouts of sassy horn leads.

Lastly on the third and final disc, we move from tight tolling piano keys and quirky call ‘n’ response backing vocal embellishments of Gilbert O’ Sullivan’s “Mr Moody’s Garden”. We have the jaunting and dense stomp of Friend's “Piccolo Man” with its urgent beat, thumping guitar ‘n’ horn work, swooning back vocals, and vibrant piccolo-led melody. Or the strutting bass ‘n’ guitars, warbling backing vocals, powerful female lead vocals, subtle horn pomp, and fly-by aircraft sound effects of Ayesha’s “Mister White’s Fly Machine”. Personally, I’d say the first two discs were the most treasure-filled, and more on point with their toy pop sound- yes there are moments on the third disc, but it felt just quite as not as consistent

In conclusion Climb Aboard My Roundabout! is a (largely) splendid and eventful sonic trip back to the ’60s and ’70s, and the playful, bright-at-times tripped-out sound of the British toytown pop sound.