In the sixties simplicity went super: supersonic, supergroup, superstar, supercalifragilisticexpialidocious, superrealism, supersaturation. Perhaps it was compensation for simply being Clark Kent, no add-ons. James Morrison Superband, fifty years after, is a charming afterthought, a combo stepping from a tardis in search of a name. Full houses can’t be wrong, as the supervisor has it; the supersleuths laid out the evidence in a perfect denouement. Unaffected by the green-eyed monster Kryponite, Superband did it their way, unerringly, as November always rhymes with Remember; stuck together as superglue holds fast the most disparate elements. The Daily Planet gave them a super review.