Richard Swift: Dressed Up For The Letdown
(Polydor)
****

Patrick Wolf: The Magic Position
(Universal)
***

Every time a new singer-songwriter pops up on the scene, there's a cacophony of wailing from my fellow critics about whether or not we need yet another sensitive troubadour. Their conclusion is usually negative.

They asked the question when James Blunt showed up ("Do we need another David Gray?"), and again when James Morrison raised his wonky-featured face above the parapet of pop ("Do we need some rough-voiced bloke who looks like he was designed by Picasso?"). And you, the punters, what was your answer? "Yes please".

Now, we can debate the merits and otherwise of Blunt and Morrison until Gray has another hit or hell freezes over, but it's rather pointless. Blunt was big because he wrote at least two massive tunes.

Love 'em or loathe 'em, You're Beautiful and High possessed unforgettable melodies. As for Morrison, well, I'm attributing his success to a sympathy vote. Either that or there was a mass rush of blood to the head.

Richard Swift and Patrick Wolf offer two completely different takes on the solo artist with guitar in hand.

They both approach the singer-songwriter role from a less obvious angle than the Blorrisons.

Swift, a robustly constructed American, takes his influences from Seventies singers such as Harry Nilsson and Randy Newman, while incorporating the pithiness and edge of more modern artists - Elvis Costello and Edwyn Collins in particular.

Wolf, meanwhile, takes a more radical approach, with liberal use of technology and dance music rhythms.

At first Wolf's fresh, vibrant approach impresses more. The tribal drums and strings of the first three tracks, Overture, The Magic Potion and Accident And Emergency, offer a dramatic backdrop to his voice (a blend of Morten Harket from A-Ha and Matt Johnson from The The, Eighties fans) as he tells dark tales of depression fought and conquered.

But the album falls away in the middle rather alarmingly as the songs become ever darker and the tunes thinner. It's only on the Cure-like Get Lost that the album rediscovers its momentum, but by then it's almost too late.

Swift's laconic approach ensures his album is slow to insinuate its way into your head but, once it does, it's often devastating.

Buildings In America, all background static and hungover acoustic guitars is simply gorgeous ("I played your heart but I broke two strings/Jesus Christ, but you're a lovely thing"), while The Ballad Of You Know Who takes the piano ballad template and renders it impossibly moving.

The Million Dollar Baby, the strongest melody here, takes suicide and gives it a singalong chorus - "I wish I was dead most of the time".

Wolf and Swift are unlikely to be bothering The Brits next year à la Blunt and Morrison, but for those looking for something a bit different, there's much to savour on both these records.