There's an expiry date to the youthful, laddish exuberance of Jamie T's early music - joyful and crass and spirited though it may still be - and Carry On The Grudge acknowledges, with a sly wink to camera, that this date is fast approaching.
Opening track 'Limits Lie' breaks it to die-hard Jamie T fans early on that this album will be lighter on the speak-singing and beer-soaked balladry than its beloved predecessors. Its melancholy, and that of second track 'Don't You Find', is no longer ridden with the self-indulgent teen-angst that so many related to in 2009.
Nostalgic fans will find more to cling onto with the monotone, mumbling verse of tracks like 'Turn On The Light', and 'Zombie' is a sheer delight, coming close to the dizzy heights of 'If You Got The Money' in terms of toe-tapping catchiness.
There's a dip towards the middle - it descends into safer territory with the rough-edged pop of 'Rabbit Hole', which treads old ground with tired feet. The foray into heavier rock that 'Peter' attempts is equally hard to get on board with - in fact, the only line we connected with was "Peter doesn't like this song" - but at least it's ambitious.
Things pick up again with 'Love Is Only A Heartbeat Away' though, which, coupled with 'Murder Of Crows', winds proceedings down with a winning self-assurance. Album closer 'They Told Me It Rained' is both a musical and lyrical highlight: lines such as "Between the birth cry and a death will, there's just houses, so lavish in your anguish" are punctured with maniacal laughter and a poignant female vocal.
In the five years he's been away, Jamie T could have released another two albums that jogged along to his tried-and-tested formula. Instead, he's allowed his wry wit and vivacity to fester and darken, and created an album with a depth that can only be attained through half a decade of reflection.