The ol’ trooper churns out album number three. It’s bound to sell squillions - but can he stop the rot?

Blunt must have learnt from experience, and is either braced for another torrent of abuse from critics about his third album, or simply ignores it, lounging atop piles and piles of filthy lucre.

Such fiery bile could be condemned as lazy journalism, but attempts to defend these 10 tracks on quality grounds are, frustratingly, futile.

Hundreds of his contemporaries also bash out limp melodies and lame lyrics (now with added 80s pop references, kids!), and never see even a thousandth of his success.

Blunt’s lifeless pop slurry just provokes an intense, painful sorrow for the tranche of Middle England dads who’ll be unwrapping this on Christmas Day.

Force that smile and just remember chaps, you’re worth more than this.

2 stars