After a bit of a pause, Andrea returns with an invigorated sense of funk and a bad case of scuffed shelltoes. ‘Retail Juke’ opens up with an impatient metronome and sparkling Rhodes keys ushering in spasmodic sample edits and unregimented drums, honing that slow-fast thing that’s impossible to describe and so bizarrely effective. ‘Write-Off’ sounds like an Ice Cream van taking a wrong turning and ending up wheel-deep in some hyperrealist dayglo forest without SatNav or a working sense of direction to hand. Still, it’s quite melancholy in its own fidgety way.