Could James’ umpteenth album be so-titled because they are bitter about not being millionaires?

I’ve always maintained a strong soft spot for James, since I was one of the hordes who was there, did that, sang along to ‘Sit Down’ and bought the ridiculous flower logo tee-shirt. My interest has wavered dramatically over the years, from the ropey Seven to the gloriously playful Laid.

If there is justice, this doesn’t deserve to be likewise overlooked.The current single, ‘Just Like Fred Astaire’, is one of those rare songs where you just melt into its swooning romance: “I believe in happiness / I believe in love / I believe she fell to earth from somewhere high above / I believe in Hollywood / Don’t believe that love must bring despair / ‘Cos when I hold in my arms I feel like Fred Astaire.” Like all the best tunes, this song charges your everyday life with a sense of magic and adventure. It’s a real shame that it’s followed by the dreadful ‘I Know What I’m Here For’, bad bubblegum pop that only induces instant tooth decay. Nearly all is forgiven with the deceptively simple ‘We’re Going to Miss You’, another potential radio hit that will never be. After the patchiness of the opening salvos, the second half of Millionaires excels itself with the most compelling, adventurous pop James have committed to disc since Laid. It all hurtles to a dramatic close on the dream-pop symphony ‘Vervaceous’, daringly topped off with a breathy sung/spoken contribution from Sinéad O’Connor drifting out of the speakers – “sifting through one thousand years of sound”.

The Angels have all the best tunes. Hat’s off.