Morrissey Ringleader of the Tormentors (Attack) £11.99

It is a fecund time for the curmudgeonly one. After nearly 25 years as an artist beloved of social pariahs, he has recently become fashionable among the relatively normal. His 2004 album, You Are the Quarry, the first for seven years, sold in excess of a million, more than any of his previous six solo albums, and even more than his records with the Smiths. It was good, but not in any way his best; the only explanation you could give for its massive success is that Morrissey is no longer regarded as a quiff-tugging outsider, but a proper rock star. With once marginal indie music now firmly mainstream, his status has transformed with the musical climate.

But Morrissey himself hasn't changed. Not in the slightest. Both You Are the Quarry and its relatively swift follow-up are characterised by their total and utter Morrisseyness. Ringleader of the Tormentors is, to anyone with a passing knowledge of his music, more of the same, augmented by some eye-wateringly ripe lyrics. On 'Dear God, Please Help Me', he's got 'explosive kegs between my legs' which he can't wait to rid himself of. On 'Life Is a Pigsty', he sees a miasma of filth and ignominy around him and holds his nose. There is the tiniest glimpse of sunlight: 'To Me, You Are a Work of Art' promises a nameless beloved that they sh ine alone in this stinky world, while 'You Have Killed Me' seems to suggest he is so in love that he physically can't cope with it.

Musically, the album sounds annoyingly familiar. Morrissey has been relying on the limited skills of his partners in rockabilly, Alain Whyte and Boz Boorer, for far too long. Every record he has made with them since 1994's Vauxhall and I has relied on the same forbidding mixture of over-loud, twangy guitars and an echoey sound quality that makes you wonder if he lives in an S&M dungeon. Icecaps melt, buildings fall, alternative music stops being alternative, but Morrissey stays the same.