Gil Scott Heron’s ‘The Bottle’ contains more funk per square inch than any other tune in recorded history – a fact empirically proven by CERN scientists during intensive research also involving James Brown and Funkadelic. As such, it truly is a pleasure to welcome back into the fold the son of renowned Celtic centre-forward Gil Heron (thanks, Wikipedia).

The legendary spoken-word performer and jazz/funk/hip-hop pioneer is never a man short of something to say, and he gets plenty off his chest in this wonderful comeback album (for which we have to thank XL boss Richard Russell, who has played Rick Rubin to Scott Heron’s Johnny Cash). The Cash analogy gains further weight when you consider that this is a man reflecting on the ups and downs of his life in a hugely insightful and affecting fashion.

Against Russell’s tastefully chosen backdrop of hip-hop grooves, industrial beats and sparse electro rhythms, the poet takes you on a trip through the urban jungle, and along the way addresses life, love and pretty much the whole damn thing. Throw in brief snatches of philosophical dialogue from the great man and you really are presented with a powerful work. Think a Hubert Selby Jr reading with Massive Attack providing the musical backdrop.

If you’re still vertical by the time the concluding ‘On Coming From A Broken Home Part 2’ – an encomium to the poet’s grandmother, who raised him, layered over a sample from Kanye’s ‘Flashing Lights’ – reaches its end, well, to quote Troy McClure, you’ve got some attitude, mister.