Jarvis Cocker bleeds Sheffield, but it’s hard to imagine an artist better suited to slithering around the Chateau Marmont after Hollywood skeletons. On Room 29, a song-cycle about the fabled LA hotel, Cocker’s knack for pinpointing nihilism’s abiding allure finds a match in Chilly Gonzales’s eerily elegant piano.

While it’s easy to condemn or romanticise the Chateau, the duo mostly offer a nuanced portrait of its murky morals. “This whole place is built on a lie, but what a lie,” Cocker marvels. He’s better when he shows rather than tells: Tearjerker’s character assassination is scolding compared with Belle Boy, which celebrates a beleaguered porter’s discretion with Gainsbourgian hysteria. Room 29 sags in the forlorn middle section, but Bombshell’s nervous energy and the frenzied A Trick of the Light brilliantly expose the torment of falling for an illusion. As convincingly as Cocker describes the bind – and how “a lifetime of spectating leaves you impotent” – it’s evidently not one he’s fallen for yet.