Back in the late ’70s, Wreckless Eric’s tuneless vocals rivalled John Otway in the it’s-so-shite-it’s-fantastic stakes. After adopting a confusing array of different names and spending nine years living in France, he’s now returned home, and his first album as Wreckless Eric in almost a decade suggests that nothing much has really changed. He still can’t sing, and his home recordings remain defiantly anti-fi rather than lo-fi. He can also still write ridiculously catchy songs with outrageous lyrics, such as “33s & 45s”, while “Continuity Girl” sounds like a bumbling, middle-aged version of The Streets. Shambolic, wilful, infuriating and hugely entertaining.