Consider both the facts and the odds. It would be more likely that a torrent of frogs would descent from the skies to land on the Palace of Westminster and then pass through six floors down to the Parliamentary chamber to squelch upon Margaret Thatcher’s head that that King Of America would be anything other than an excellent album.

For when Britain’s most consistently prolific songwriter take his longest ever sabbatical from the treadmill of record-making, he is hardly likely to return with anything but a superior batch of songs. Equally having broken ranks with the Attractions to record with some of America’s most characterful musicians, his music is bound to benefit from the change of climate. For those logistical reasons alone, King Of America was likely to rank among its creator’s superior albums.

But, of course, there is more to it that that for on King Of America, the ventriloquist, Declan McManus finally discloses himself behind the dummy, Elvis Costello to speak in the first persona, revealing himself as someone who’s patently passed through an emotional and attitudinal watershed obviously linked to his highly public relationship with Pogues bassist and occasional singer, Cait O’Riordan.