He went from (non-)national hero to someone who was looked upon with a degree of sympathy in less than a decade, but even he might admit that there was good reason for his fans to be disappointed with his recent output. 2002's 'A New Day at Midnight' marked the beginning of a downturn in quality for David Gray; perhaps a reaction to the commercial success and subsequent pressures that 'White Ladder' had brought, the death of his father, the swelling of his fanbase outside Ireland, or any other number of reasons. 2005's 'Life in Slow Motion' was equally disappointing and indicated that the Manchester-born singer had lost his way on a major scale.

After making two exceptional albums in the early '90s ('A Century Ends' and 'Flesh') that were bare-boned, stripped-back and without the glitz of high-end studio devices, it seemed that David Gray needed to go back to basics to maintain any credibility. 'Draw the Line' doesn't come close to capitalising on his initial promise, but it's a step in the right direction.

Recorded in his newly-bought London studio, there's a sense of serenity, but not monotony, on songs like 'Nemesis' and 'Kathleen', though both ultimately meander a little too freely. The title track is one of the strongest here, its steady beat and softly plucked guitar buoyed by hints of lap steel in the background. Sprightly piano-based number 'Jackdaw' is also encouraging, as is the uptempo jangle of 'Stella the Artist', which perhaps hints at a Fleetwood Mac crush, and the vague alt-country twinkle of 'Breathe'.

There's a track with Annie Lennox too - 'Full Steam Ahead' - but like most of the others, it's a bit too pedestrian to be of any real consequence. That said, Gray's most potent (and most polarising) weapon is his voice, and it remains as forceful as ever. Perhaps his days of simplistic, fiery ballads are long over, but as flawed as 'Draw the Line' is, it's still probably his best album in nine years.