Most artists who do the 360 degrees re-invention thing just get laughed at - but Luke Haines's vicarious volte face has the Bowie-esque stamp of genius about it. Linking up with ex-Mary Chain gang member John Moore, Haines drafted in the whispering seductress that is Sarah Nixey to form a band that is the missing link between Serge Gainsbourg, Pulp and All Saints (that's a lot of links!).

The slinky, soul-pop music has the production values of the slickest swingbeat throwbacks making out on MTV, but this is pop music you can really love. Effortlessly sultry and unapologetically sexual, Sarah Nixey doesn't so much sing these songs as ravish them behind the bike shed.

This is an album, first and foremost, about sex. The title track you'll know by now, a tale of two puberties that is the most memorable song about masturbation ever committed to disc. The album opens with 'The Art Of Driving' which takes the time-honoured metaphor of sex and driving and gives it a good seeing to in the back seat. It's the knowingness in its conception and delivery that give it its 'X' factor.

Another absolute piece of pure pop genius is 'The English Motorway System' - another song about cars'n'girls, this is Radiohead's 'No Surprises' re-written for daytime radio and night clubs. And yet it's also a debate on life, love and monogamy.

Meanwhile, 'French Rock'n'Roll' sees Nixey as a Home Counties Jane Birkin - enunciating "rock'n'roll" with a sigh so sexual it could turn a pillar of salt to flesh.

But this is no mere sleaze-show. BBR are painting a picture that captures the quintessence of Englishness, much like Morrissey and Jarvis did before them. And Black Box Recorder, then, are the sound of sex on wheels. And do they suck diesel!