I stumbled across Ian's music via a video that appeared in my Instagram feed. I was initially intrigued by the humour, but I wasn't prepared for the sheer scale of his musical ability. There are plenty of moments where I was reminded of artists from the '90s and early 2000s, but I don't see that as a criticism. Every musician is influenced by those who came before them. What matters is what they do with those influences, and Ian combines them with sharp songwriting and wonderfully inventive lyrics to create something that's very much his own.

The album opens with "All Love from Here", a song that proves you can wrap dark subject matter in an irresistibly catchy package. It begins with a simple piano line that immediately evokes the early 2000s, lulling you into expecting something light and carefree. Instead, the lyrics tell a story born from a premonition, and they're far darker and sadder than I expected. At just over two minutes long it somehow manages to cram an incredible amount into its short running time, leaving me wanting more.

"Come Sit Outside in the Rain With Me" continues that early 2000s feel with its loose, upbeat sound and carefree energy. I was talking about it with my daughter and said it reminded me of a song on the soundtrack of the 2002 Scooby Doo movie. Once again it's over almost as soon as it begins. Whether that's the result of brilliantly crafted pop songwriting or simply an unwillingness to explore the idea further is open to debate, but I'll happily lean towards the former.

The next track, "Bangladesh", has been popping up in my feed ever since I started following Ian. I have to admit it's one of the few tracks that doesn't really work for me. Perhaps it's simply suffered from Instagram overexposure, but it feels more like a brief interlude than a fully realised song. At under a minute long, it doesn't outstay its welcome.

Thankfully, "Miserable Please" is an immediate return to form. The stripped-back musical accompaniment allows the lyrics to take centre stage, while the chorus gives the song a more traditional structure. It's another track that ends almost as abruptly as it begins, and here it feels like the song has earned another verse or two before fading away.

For sheer irreverence, "Keith Moon" doesn't waste any time. Within six seconds we're greeted by a healthy dose of profanity. I'm certainly no prude, but while the humour will undoubtedly land with many listeners, it didn't quite click for me. Even what sounds suspiciously like the Count from Sesame Street delivering expletives couldn't quite win me over. That said, it does feature a fun little guitar solo, although perhaps a drum break would have been even more fitting given the title.

"Mechanic" heads off in a completely different direction with an almost disco-inspired groove. It's not full-on '70s disco, but there's definitely a flavour of it throughout. For some reason I kept imagining the song working even better if the central character had been a bartender rather than a mechanic, although changing that would probably alter the entire feel of the song. It's a strange observation, but one that refused to leave my head while listening.

Then we arrive at the album's epic, "I Love You" at a whopping... just under three minutes long. Yes, I'm being a little flippant, but in the context of this album it genuinely feels substantial. I really liked the sentiment behind the song, although personally I think it could have been even stronger played a little more straight. I fully appreciate that's probably at odds with what many fans love about Ian's music, so that's very much a matter of personal taste.

If I were "Greg", admittedly many years ago now, I think I'd have liked a friend like Ian. Enough said. Well, almost. There's something wonderfully silly about this track that had me laughing out loud the first time I heard it.

The irreverence continues with "Pictures of My Castle", the song that first introduced Ian to me. Once you've heard it, the title makes perfect sense. It's simply two minutes of unashamed fun that somehow manages to pack in far more than its running time suggests.

That Euro-disco influence returns on "Anteater", another upbeat, catchy little number that's difficult not to enjoy. Once again, though, it ends almost before you've fully settled into it.

I love the opening of "I Can Survive", with its simple piano and vocal sample creating a lovely foundation for the song. The lyrics are surprisingly sweet, and the track builds beautifully throughout. Here, the abrupt ending kind of works. Across the album, though, Ian's tendency to stop songs rather than finish them properly does occasionally become noticeable.

Perhaps this is where my age starts to show, but "Time Continues to Pass" feels more like filler than an essential part of the album. Ninety seconds of repeatedly singing "Time Continues to Pass" is mildly entertaining, but it doesn't really add much to the overall experience.

"Time by Yourself" explores the idea of learning to enjoy your own company, and it's another excellent song that seems to disappear just as it's getting into its stride. Another victim of the early finish, which hopefully is something to experience only by yourself.

There's barely a pause before "Pink Yoshi" arrives. I have to admit that the opening scat vocals initially had me fearing the worst, but thankfully the rest of the song won me over. There's a subtle reggae flavour to the music and Ian delivers the lyrics at breakneck speed. It's enjoyable enough, although it never quite reaches the heights of the album's strongest moments.

Another slice of wonderfully offbeat humour arrives with "Good Run", which boasts one of the best opening lines on the entire album. The vocals sound as though they've had a touch of Auto-Tune applied. It suits the song perfectly, even if Auto-Tune is something I instinctively recoil from. The final synth flourish close the track of nicely.

I was hoping the album might finish with something heartfelt and reflective, but instead we get "Podiatrist", which, somewhat surprisingly, has very little to do with feet. Stick around until the very end for one final burst of fun.

Sixteen tracks come together to make an album lasting just twenty eight minutes. That's an average of around 105 seconds per song. Some might argue that's simply a reflection of modern listening habits, where attention spans are shorter and music often arrives in bite-sized bursts.

I know I'm probably not Ian's target audience, but that's perhaps why this album impressed me as much as it did. My biggest criticism is that so many of these songs feel like ideas that deserve more time to breathe. Ian clearly has the songwriting talent to support longer arrangements, and I'd love to hear him explore some of these ideas in greater depth. Even so, this is a hugely entertaining album, packed with clever lyrics, infectious melodies and a wonderfully irreverent sense of humour. If you're looking for something that will make you smile while leaving you genuinely impressed by the songwriting, you really can't go wrong here.