It’s about time Morrissey fully committed to a whole album of acid tongued croons. We finally get it here but, unfortunately, it all falls rather flat. There are times when the music and words sparkle collectively (Istanbul), but others when the melodies are so dreadfully dull that you wonder how they made it past the mixing desk.

The title track is topical and volatile like most of Morrissey’s work, but little else about it interests. It’s nondescript and disappointing like much of the record.

I’m Not A Man features nearly two minutes of bemusing white noise, before evolving into a slow moving tirade against hegemonic masculinity. It’s a sociology essay in song and like most pieces of academia, it takes a long time to get to the point – taking several detours through vegetarianism and the links between meat and cancer. We never truly discover if Morrissey is really a man or not, but we are left in no doubt that Morrissey is always right according to Morrissey.

He still has the ability to conjure lyrics that prick-up even the most disinterested of ears, but Smiler With A Knife is a desperately poor acoustic number that meanders for what seems like an age.

Staircase At The University features a tacky brass interlude, Mountjoy is stale and Oboe Concerto is just mundane. They appear to be filler, the afterthought of a tired performer. After five years you would have thought Moz would have been revitalised and ready, now more than ever, to take a sideways swipe at this horrible world. However, it seems to have finally blunted his sharpness.

This is the least enlightening and exciting of Stephen Patrick’s modern work. There’s not a classic among this collection, nothing to add to the great pantheon of Morrissey solo work. It’s a shame, but we’ll forgive him. It’s good to have him back, but saddening that it is in such underwhelming circumstances.