The post-Covid world has been one of rampant creativity for the man who made up 50% of indie cult heroes Carter the Unstoppable Sex Machine. This is his third album in four years, and he is carving out a veritable position as an unlikely voice of passive-aggressive protest. 

This is a very English angry album. It does not do anything as vulgar or direct as raising its voice, but it will happily make disapproving tuts behind the backs of those who have aggrieved it. What Jim Bob has retained from his Carter days it the ingrained ability to turn a phrase. The album is full of beautifully cultivated puns and lyrical couplets. It’s warm, caring and rather miffed with the current state of the world record but rather than make a fuss about it, its going hides its disdain in a plethora of cutting humorous lyrics.