Wise-ass piano virtuoso Folds returns to the fray following his recent William Shatner collaboration with this earnest, wistful and at times extremely melancholy collection. Opening track Bastard sets the tone - it's more of what we've come to expect over the years from the man who gave us the hilarious indie disco classic Underground, a song which reinvented the intelligent kind of frat-boy rock with irreverent, message-heavy lyrics and which undoubtedly paved the way for the likes of Liam Lynch (United States Of Whatever). However, the tongue isn't so far into the cheek this time, and Folds's dry wit doesn't take the edge off his tight orchestration or warm, jazzy style.

Irony abounds in songs such as Jesusland, although it relies on the listener to draw it out - maybe Folds is playing on his own reputation here, as he longingly sings of the slightly absurd side to the American dream and expects us to fill in the gaps ourselves. One thing which is very noticeable about this album is that the similarities between Folds and fellow American piano-playing singer-songwriter Billy Joel are becoming increasingly apparent. If you're a fan of Joel but also have a penchant for Green Day's softer stuff and Weezer, then you'll love this. If you couldn't give a toss about any of those bands, you'll still probably enjoy it. Beautiful harmonies, some really quite wrenching sentiments and - as always - a slight twist: it's a bit like being snarled at by a big, floppy, waggy-tailed collie.