We won't patronise anyone here - we all know the hipster set has creamed itself into a coma at the surprise release of Jai Paul's is-it-an-album-is-it-not thing (look, it has no track titles, there's no concrete release strategy, let's have a fête). But what does it actually sound like?
Truthfully: really rather quite good. BTSTU is still bloody brilliant, and every other track is loaded with innovative production and choppy vocal. Track 2 adds what sounds like an Indian shehnai before a Bollywood vocal and bhangra coda (a nod to the lad's roots), Track 3 hearkens a funkier James Blake. As the album segues through tracks of various lengths and levels of madness, Track 5 cranks it up a massive notch, while Track 9 (Jasmine) is pure How To Dress Well sex.
It's bonkers, at times its unintelligible, but - without a single dull moment - by God is it the most unique and exciting thing to have come out of London for a while. And, if all of that doesn't take your fancy, there's a bad-ass cover of Jennifer Paige's Crush. So there.