Skunk Anansie? Punk rock art-terrorists or some music mogul's idea of what an angry young female-fronted band should sound like in the 1990s? Post Orgasmic Chill might have provided the definitive answer. In fact, however, it does something else entirely, confounding expectations, and in the process throwing up even more questions about the whole Skunk deal.

This is not the work of any photo-fit angry young woman. Instead Skin and the boys have chosen to occupy a kind of chill-out zone where affairs of the heart are the abiding pre-occupation. And chill out they do: the most surprising thing about P.O.C. is the number of ballads. Skin has, to a large extent, abandoned her aggressive image, moving instead towards the Dionne Warwick and Aretha Franklin end of the market. Which is no bad thing in itself. But it raises the stakes on two levels: to make this kind of thing work, not only do you have to be able to sing like a dream, but you ideally need classic songs as well. On neither count is Post Orgasmic Chill completely convincing.

The album features no less than seven out of twelve 'slow burners'. It's a heavy burden and feels that way, though there are moments that suggest that there might be better yet to come.

'Secretly' is the album's best track, tellingly detailing the frustration of lusting after someone who wants someone else. In contrast, 'Good Things Don't Always Come To You' is a mess of strung-together clichés, making you wonder could this really be the same band?

Skunk Anansie have sacrificed power and spunk for soul and sympathy - and they only half get away with it. Which still leaves some major question marks hanging over them.