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All Saints are back with the jaw-droppingly dreadful Studio 1

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Jarvis Cocker's debut solo album features some of his most idiosyncratic work ever, All Saints' Studio 1 is jaw-droppingly dreadful and Yusuf Islam edges back to pop...

POP

Jarvis Cocker
Jarvis (Rough Trade)
****
Far from suffering from the absence of his Pulp bandmates, Cocker's debut solo album has freed him up to produce more idiosyncratic work than ever, with an extraordinary range of sounds and subjects. Technically he's a poor singer, coming across like a lumpen, Yorkshire Elvis impersonator, but it's Cocker's lyrics, and the biting social comment, which are central to his appeal. On Fat Children a pumping rock sound disguises a disturbing tale of murder and haunting. On the cinematic I Will Kill Again a piano-led ballad satirises the trappings of a middle-aged, middle-class lifestyle, before dropping a killing into the equation. Written for Nancy Sinatra, Don't Let Him Waste Your Time is another corker. Raw lyrical honesty and cheesefree rock sensibilities leave the listener wanting more. CHRIS ELWELL-SUTTON

All Saints
Studio 1 (Parlophone)
*
Oh dear. It's difficult to fathom exactly why All Saints have re-formed, aside from the less-than-enthusiastic reception accorded to their solo careers. There was hardly a rabid, Take That-sized fan-base waiting for them, nor has there been critical reappraisal of their anaemic version of Under the Bridge. Nevertheless, here they are and, as christening their comeback after a legendary Jamaican studio implies, they have gone reggae. Alas, their take on the genre suggests Butlins Redcoats skanking through No Woman No Cry for the benefit of some bemused toddlers. One Me and U skips along quite pleasantly, but the remainder is beyond redemption. Jaw-droppingly dreadful. JOHN AIZLEWOOD

Yusuf
An Other Cup (Polydor)
***
Yusuf Islam (formerly Cat Stevens) has, in recent years, been edging back towards pop - he converted to Islam and rejected his secular achievements in the late Seventies. A duet with Ronan Keating reached number two in 2004, but this is his first pop album in 28 years. Most of the music is new, aside from fragile ballad Greenfields, Golden Sands, written in 1968, and a dramatic cover of Don't Let Me Be Misunderstood. Other tracks mainly have a spiritual theme, which Yusuf's still warm voice makes particularly soothing, although the two mystical poems will be a prayer too far for pop fans. Generally, though, the material world should be glad to have him back. DAVID SMYTH

WORLD

Los Desterrados
Tu (Crusoe Records)
***
The music of Los Desterrados (The Exiles) has its roots in the Jewish communities of Spain, pre the reconquest and expulsions of 1492. Then the Sephardic Jews resettled in North Africa, Turkey and the Balkans; their music (and Ladino language) includes elements from medieval Spain and these other territories. Los Desterrados are a London-based sextet using these old tunes and lyrics but bringing their own personalities and a fair amount of flamenco to the sound. Much of the memorable repertoire is slow and lyrical, but there's bravado, too. The opening Avre Tu Puerta Cerrada (Open Your Closed Door) is almost Gipsy Kings in its Latin fire. They ignite live at Finchley Arts Depot next Thursday. SIMON BROUGHTON

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