Soft spot for the work of Stevie Wonder not withstanding, sonically the groups muse is growing. 'Planet Home' mashes keyboard bass lines of a? Bernie Worrell P-funk vintage into a steely-slick vehicle of a song that puts you in mind of prime Talking Heads, even if can seem a little like slicked up Level 42 at times.

The tunes flow even if lacking in a genre-defining moment. It is convenient to pick on Jay for being a self-congratulatory rich white guy with a hat problem, but the real issue is conviction rather than cash. Lazing around his home studio, waxing about better days, almost dipping into Tracy Chapman's community plate, and then the disco ball Mick Hucknall thing...scary. Then, just at the point where disinterested parties are about to get their coats, something wonderful and radical happens. Kay stops singing. The five minutes of 'Destitute Illusions' is given over to a sublime, languid, instrumental porno-acid lounge piece and for a moment it sounds like JK's got something homegrown to offer.