Kate Nash returns with a bruising, alt-pop thrill-ride

On her debut, Made of Bricks, she delivered an album of clever, wordy indie pop; on her second, My Best Friend is You, the tunes were slicker but the lyrics seemed to lack the cerebral tone of the first record, and on her most recent, Girl Talk, she abandoned any notions of finesse or polish and went straight for the jugular with anxious, ra,w garage-y Rawk.

However, last year Nash emerged from the cocoon with the EP Agenda, which seemed to be the culmination of all of her personae. It was rough-edged, sharp pop, with a saccharine sweetness, all delivered with a knowing wink. It sounded like she’d made a breakthrough – as though this was, finally, truly, her.

For this record, Nash draws on a mixture of 90s alt. riffs, fuck-you attitude and brash, surprisingly poetic lyrics. It’s closer to Alanis Morisette than Adele; and there are hints of PJ Harvey’s ragged confessionals and Liz Phair’s playful ditties.

Album standout “Call Me” cleverly segues from a rubbery reggae beat into a glorious chorus. “Take Away” features a sharp, angular New Wave guitar line that hints at The Cars’ driving melodicism and The Strokes’ chiming indie rock.

“Drink About You” has some hard-hitting self-analysis – the exact kind you’re faced with after a night of drunken reminiscing. It has a rapid, clench-jaw punk tempo that Nash tempers with sweet, syrupy vocals. The riff hits hard, but she makes her voice the ointment for the bruise.

“Karaoke Kiss” veers uncomfortably close to Taylor Swift’s “Style” but manages to just pull it off, while the roaring guitar of “Twisted Up” evokes the Pixies in their mid-era prime (or Wolf Alice, if you’re after modern reference points).

The album runs a touch long, and final two cuts “My Little Alien” and “To the Music I Belong” are both a bit cloying (do we need them?). On the former, there are bloops and bleeps (as though you’re in space, geddit?) and “To the Music I Belong” is well, a half-sung, half-rapped song about… belonging to the music.

At its best the record is a playful, pulse-raising thrill-ride; and you can see that musical dexterity on display here will be staggeringly impressive or bewilderingly inconsistent, depending on your taste. I guess Yesterday Was Forever, but tomorrow is where we’ll see the best from Kate Nash: this feels like the last step before greatness.