In his own words, singer-songwriter Stuart Noah creates songs about “love, sex, evolution and personality disorders”. Unfortunately, throughout ‘The Box Room Acoustic EP’ only one of these themes stays fresh in the mind. This is because by the time it’s finished, rather than reflecting on Noah’s musings on his chosen subjects, you start to wonder whether he himself is suffering from some sort of personality disorder. It can’t be disputed that the singer has tried to incorporate a unique blend of ingredients into his sound, but he has far from worked out how to balance them effectively, and the result is a cauldron of uncertainty.

At times on this record it seems clear that Noah fancies himself as something of an urban poet, in the mould of Alex Turner or a young Paul Weller. However, instead of the grimly romantic images of taxi ranks or disused dairy yards used by such lyricists, we are introduced to a mundane world of staff canteens, recycle bins and duck ponds. It is as if Noah thinks that throwing in any old feature of everyday life will be enough to elevate him to the heights of his heroes. The influence of English punk and indie is clear in the sound of his vocals at times, yet here there is a trademark fickleness from the singer. All too often, he swings between the Northern accent that is so characteristic of bands such as the Arctic Monkeys and Maxïmo Park, and the light Cockney mutter that defines their Southern counterparts. Noah rocks into even more dangerous territory when he tries to integrate a bit of American pop-punk into the confusion – the influence of bands such as Bad Religion and their successors drifts in and out of the EP, and clashes with both the other musical persuasions and the acoustic nature of the record. This battle is best exemplified by closing track ‘Skomer’. Bashing through chords and whining his words, Noah seems intent on recreating the sound of Blink-182. However, without the impact of a backing band, this style seems crude and incomplete. Also, mimicking a Californian accent, while describing an island off the coast of southwest Wales, is never going to start a trend.

Noah’s identity crisis is a shame for several reasons. Firstly, it is always refreshing to see a songwriter trying to inject a dose of social relevance into their lyrics, especially at a time when so many are content to plough on with vague clichés about love. Also, there are some infectious moments in both ‘Oxytocin’ and ‘Take This Hand’ that are accompanied by competent guitar plucking. Nonetheless, on the evidence of this EP, Noah is yet to organise his influences into an enticing or consistent arrangement, and until he does this, anything profound he has to say about love, sex or evolution will be taken in vain.