love this cd just re-bought it because it got lost over the years its just an amazing cd.

I bought this CD on 24th Jan 2008 and its now 24 Feb 2008 and the fu**ing thing still hasn't arrived. This is consistent with Amazon, you buy something and just accept it will take a month to arrive even if you pay a premium for express delivery. 'Express delivery' is a total fu**ing con as well.

The band writes awesomely catchy songs. The lyrics contain great observations on life and relationships with a heaping helping of wit. What is a 5 star album starts repeating Jesus' name over and over. I just skip this song, but it takes it down to a 3. Hopefuly you are able to enjoy this CD and skip this song as well.

I remember hearing "I Say Nothing" on the car radio FM (out of Baja) when I was stationed up at Camp Pendleton, and the choruses/refrains hooked me instantly. It's one of those tracks on which a band does almost everything just right. I've since made it a point to hear most everything else that VoB has done, and "I Say Nothing" has a rare pop magic that you see (or rather hear) once in a blue moon. I would have paid $10 for a CD single of that tune.

I definitely detected a shift in the 80's music scene when hearing "Don't Call Me Baby" on the radio. Cute and catchy song, with sugary pop vocals. And the group responsible was Voice Of The Beehive. Let It Bee, their debut, sported punkish power pop and ballads highlighted by Melissa Brooke Belland and Traci Bryn's twin harmonies filled with thoughtful and sage advice.

The upbeat "The Beat Of Love" has the verses rapped while the pre-chorus and chorus are sung. According to them, the beat of love is nasty: "people bang on the doors to get in/then once they're inside they just want to be free." The VOTB philosophy of love: "love is a life nerve/a mission/a principle/the grand passion/temptation."

"Sorrow Floats" is a melodic poppy electric guitar ballad about a jaded young woman who's "sick of feeling sick about it" and starts drinking beer at eight, in the morning I presume, and the narrator doesn't know how to help effectively. "You can't drown your sorrows/or on you will be the joke/because the only thing that you will drown is yourself/cause you see my dear, sorrow it floats" she advises the poor soul. There's a cool up-tempo guitar solo at the end.

Then the single, "Don't Call Me Baby", which due to the guitar work is a power pop version of the Bangles and the Byrds, an open letter from someone who's been dumped and witnesses her ex with other girls. Towards the end, when they sing "Don't call me" there's an angry fierce riff filling in for the last word. This happens three times for emphasis.

"The Man In The Moon" is a quiet melodic song of someone fed up with guys and, gazing starry-eyed at the ideal title character, who's "always dressed properly", "always there when I need him", and "he don't talk so we don't fight." The airy keyboards lend a space-like aura.

"What You Have Is Enough" is a quick burst with punkish guitars that don't sound muted despite Bryn and Belland's vocals. This is a contrast between jetsetters in Beverly Hills and people with simple lifestyles. People in the latter are happy just to have another day. As the chorus goes: "I can't change the value of money/I can't change the price of life/but if you've got a choice between your wallet and your woman/honey take your wife/and if time is money then you'd better spend it/any way you like."

"Oh Love", sporting a mandolin and fiddle, does inject a bit of country in this ballad, with a melody harkening to "Give me a home, where the buffalo roam."

"I Walk The Earth", with super-fierce "You Really Got Me" power riffs, the girls offer someone to take her hand and walk the earth, their only home, for miles, towards that destiny called life.

"Trust Me" is a wry commentary on how the genders lie to each other. It's a call on telling the truth, no matter what. "What good is the truth if we never use it?" the girls ask.

The mid-paced and reflective "I Say Nothing" which also sports some fierce and grinding riffs. It's a critique of how people putting on airs just to belong to the in-crowd. Just like the narrator, I'll probably be one of those lonely few who stand alone at parties.

The uncivilized freeloading oaf in "There's A Barbarian At The Back Of My Car" is quite an obnoxious character. Apart from making some poor girl pay for gasoline even when she picks him up, drinking all her beer and wearing all her girl's clothes, he says, "I'll **** you later now just get me to the bar." Real gentleman, isn't he?

Another contemplative ballad, "Just A City", on the jaded feelings felt after living in the same place for years. Then comes two songs that were added for the CD release, the Bangles-like "This Weak" and super-slow "Jesus."

Fresh, ferocious, and sassy, contemplative, and full of sage advice, this is some heavy (in both senses) power pop.