ichard Hawley is one of Britain’s best kept secrets. His services have been and still are rendered by a number of indie stalwarts. Pulp, Beth Orton and Saint Etienne all love and use his talents. Okay, so what if he was a member of Britpop casualties Longpigs, that’s not such a terrible thing to have on one’s C.V. To tell you the truth, they weren’t half bad compared to all of the rest of those bands who crashed and burned.

Hawley’s debut solo album, Late Night Final, is just over a year old, but he’s showing that he is a determined solo artist. While that album demonstrated his ability to put the romance back into even the most doomed relationships, this follow-up does, well, much of the same, really. Late Night Final’s near ghostly, production (one of its most engaging features) is really about the only thing missing from Lowedges (named after an area on the outskirts of his hometown of Sheffield), but strangely, it doesn’t seem to effect Hawley’s skill for penning a good tune. His soothing, crooner voice needs no special effects to shine on record. It never strays from sounding anything less than a wondrous uber-voice consisting of one part Glen Campbell, one part Scott Walker and the other part Ian McCulloch.

What really makes Hawley stand out from just about every other contemporary solo artist is his modernization of the classic, silky pop sound and his adjustment of it to fit into today’s world. His music is timeless and simple. It’s so easy to fall head over heels in love with his effortless guitar playing and it only takes one nano-second to discover why he’s constantly in demand for an album session or world tour. Whether it’s the gentle plucking of his acoustic on the instrumental “Danny” or the heavenly lap steels on the countrified “Darlin’”, his gift is never in doubt.

The only strange thing about this record is the underlying theme of his love for riding motorcycles. It’s completely obvious judging from the album cover and the photos inside, and the track called “The Motorcycle Song”, which is possibly the most tender song ever to be written about bikes (slightly ahead of “Born To Be Wild” – if that is even about motorbikes). The strangest thing however, is the dedication to the Motorcycle Action Group and the National Association for Bikers. Considering most of his songs sound as if he is love obsessed, the whole ”motorbike thing” seems a little peculiar. Don’t let it throw you off though, a biographical concept album about riding along with Satan’s Choice, it’s not. A solid second solo record it is.