18

Cast your mind back, if you will, to September 1996. Having danced its socks off to Moby’s breakthrough techno album, Everything Is Real, the world is desperate to pop the follow-up into the hi-fi. The laser hits the polycarbon and, Jesus H. Christ, what’s that bleedin’ noise? He still enjoys messing with people’s preconceptions, but having pissed his career away once, Richard Melville Hall is not about to do another Animal Rights. In other words, 18 has been made for those who enjoyed Play but wouldn’t mind going off on a few new musical tangents. Or old ones, come to that.

A brave choice of lead single – i.e. it’s Moby’s voice, not a trademark sample – ‘We Are All Made Of Stars’ is an unashamed steal of ‘Heroes’. A debt that’s about to be repaid with the diminutive one inviting Bowie onto his Arena: 2 tour in the States.

After making this small but important point, ‘In This World’ and ‘In My Heart’ mark a return to familiar (and bankable) dinner party/clothes shop/car ad territory.

There’s nothing wrong with populism, though, when it’s done this adeptly. Sumptuous of soul and extravagent of hook, they confirm Moby as a hi-tech Jimmy Webb or Burt Bacharach. No, really.

With first-choice guest Madonna too busy pretending to be English, disco diva duties on ‘Jam For The Ladies’ fall to Angie Stone. For all of her inspired caterwauling – air-raid siren or what? – there’s no escaping the fact that it’s B-Boy boogaloo-by-numbers and not a patch on the Beasties’ similarly inclined ‘Sure Shot’.

His much-vaunted collaboration with Sinéad O’Connor, ‘Harbour’, is far more rewarding and shows that voice off to glorious effect. With the spotlight on her rather than any extraneous sonic adventures, Sinéad wrings every ounce of emotion out of a song that would definitely make it onto her ‘Best Of…’

Elsewhere there are nods towards Reverend Al-style gospel (‘I’m Not Worried At All’), Fatboy Slim big beatery (‘The Rafters’), St. Etienne (‘Sunday [The Day Before My Birthday]’) and Massive Attack (‘At Least We Tried’).

Indeed, if forced at Uzi-point to come up with a band that share the Mobester’s wantonly eclectic worldview, it’d be the Wild Bunch.

Not that his isn’t a unique talent. I can’t think of any other Planet Rock inhabitant who’s simultaneously this commercial and credible. The best things really do come in small packages.