Perhaps we're entering a new golden age of female singer-songwriters, when the next Joss Stone or Natasha Bedingfield or Delta Goodrem is only a download away. Or maybe we've just been awash in pop songs for so long that we're reaching a stage where everyone can do it. Lucie Silvas has been riding high since the release of her album Breathe In last year, and has some form as a professional tunesmith, having provided material for Gareth Gates, Rachel Stevens and Liberty X (though some may consider this to be not so much an achievement, more a pretext for a jail sentence).

As a performer, Silvas is polished, polite and personable, doing the "this is so great, I can't believe it's all happening to me" routine with commendable sincerity. She has also taken the wise precaution of fortifying herself with an excellent band, who can switch from ballads to rockers - and many points in between - with magical finesse.

But while critics can often be heard moaning that many a modern pop star is little more than a blow-dried mannequin on a digital life support system, in Silvas' case a few more gadgets and synthetic beats would be welcome. It's as if the 21st century hasn't happened yet and her tastes have been shaped by listening to her parents' collection of Judy Tzuke and Elton John albums, perhaps with a garnish of Kate Bush and Pat Benatar. What You're Made Of is a perfect specimen of mid-1970s balladry, with Lucie plonking away dolefully at the keys, and Kim Carnes would admire the way she adds a hint of desperation to No Defence by allowing her voice to crack a little bit round the edges.

Meanwhile there's a whiff of the New Labour focus group about Silvas' songwriting, as it methodically ticks the boxes marked Soul, Gospel and Pop and deftly tweaks chords and tempos to manipulate the required response. The Game is Won sounds uncannily like Alastair Campbell's latest internal memo. Perhaps she could give boorish Al a few tips on keeping voter apathy at bay.