Absence makes audience’s hearts grow fonder. Following her infamous wardrobe malfunction at the 2004 Super Bowl, Janet Jackson’s waning commercial fortunes saw her albums dismissed, often unfairly – but after a seven-year hiatus and a reunion with producers Jam & Lewis, her 11th album arrives to a renewed wave of appreciation for her visionary career. Its sunny serenity picks up where 2001’s All For You left off rather than the urgent pansexual experimentation of Jackson’s most involving ’90s work, though. The chunky bass of Dammn Baby hits the dancefloor spot – but otherwise, Unbreakable’s highlights are low-key moments of reflection and nostalgia: the hypnotic sway of Promise, the languorous dread of Lessons Learned and After You Fall, a skeletal piano lullaby that seems composed for Jackson’s late brother Michael, and on which she once again demonstrates the emotional range of her voice. This, rather than the beatific bestowments of wisdom over filterhouse beats, was worth the wait.