The one artist that springs to mind most when listening to this record is early solo-period Edwyn Collins. This, here, like Collins, is a man with a definite agenda of his own, who has set out to tell the world how he feels and doesn’t give a damn what the response is. This is a record that excitedly draws you into its dark, violent and vibrantly beating heart, to tell you (in a sinuous, sexy and almost non-verbal voice, of course) its innermost dirty little secrets and trust you (wrongly, of course) not to go spilling them.
In these dark days of “X Factor” rejects and pointless reunions, it is a real pleasure to hear an artist such as Alex Monk, who is so audibly (and definitely) working to their own template and on their own terms. One awaits, with joyful anticipation, his next move.