If there’s such a thing as being a chip off the old block, then Baxter Dury qualifies. Listening to the son of Ian Dury is like being transported back to the late 1970s. The difference is that this Dury isn’t singing about being hit with a rhythm stick, but rather lonely and wistful romantic opportunities and existential disappointments. Two aspects save the record from the dangers of overt familiarity: the first is Dury’s fashioning of seemingly throwaway lyrics (try “Ferrero Rocher prostitutes/Primark debutantes in boots” for size). The second is the frequent co-vocal talents of Fabienne Debarre (once of much-admired trio We Were Evergreen), who is the catchy ying to Dury’s forlorn yang. Coming in under 35 minutes, there isn’t much to dwell on here, but the album title is correct and right – it really is a pleasure. baxter-dury.com