New Zealand songwriter Kimbra Johnson was the sinuous star turn on Gotye's Somebody That I Used to Know, and the exposure sent this solo debut into the top 20 in various regions. Not in the UK, though – presumably, its propensity for skipping from jazz to Latin to digi-funk made it too difficult to classify. It opens with a cosmic funk number that scores highly on the cackling-whimsy scale ("Won't you raise a child with me? We'll call her Nebraska Jones," she giggles, nerve-shreddingly), but by the second song, Something in the Way You Are, she's veered off into luscious slow jam territory, which gives way to girl-group buoyancy on Cameo Lover. And so it continues in this scattershot fashion: Home is jittery electro-funk, Sally I Can See You a breathy electronic ride in the vein of Bat for Lashes, and a cover of Nina Simone's Plain Gold Ring an exercise in unnerving restraint. The intricate rhythms are the link between these disparate songs, all of which – scattergun or not – are absolutely beguiling.