The second-biggest-selling artist last year returns with a deflating clutch of covers, buffed-up but bereft of soul.

Opening with a deeply unremarkable, straightforward cover of You Make Me Feel So Young, Bublé sets the tone for 46minutes of jazz-pop that’s blander than a bowl of prison slop.

Quite how he sucked so much life out of Who’s Loving You, so vividly sung by a young Michael Jackson, is a mystery.

His duet with Reese Wetherspooon, taking on Frank and Nancy Sinatra’s Something Stupid even fails to equal the suave version laid down a few years back by Robbie Williams and Nicole Kidman.

For an album supposedly about ‘love, happiness, fun and yummy things’ this stack of glossily-produced standards, plus a couple of painfully predictable originals, is just lazy.

One Of A Kind is passionless, After All, co-written by Bryan Adams, is OK yet the best thing here with soaring guitar and strident brass.

Naturally 7 and the Puppini Sisters are roped in on two other tunes but provide little more than window dressing.

Bublé needs to lose the comfort blanket next time.

2 stars