IF you like BIG choruses, then you won’t need to look any further than Arkansas gal Beth Ditto’s first solo work since Gossip split 18 months ago. Even Fake Sugar’s more average tracks suddenly explode when the chorus arrives, reminding us that Ditto has a sensational voice, one that variously channels Aretha Franklin, Stevie Nicks, Dusty Springfield and, on In And Out, even The Supremes.

That’s not a bad set of touchpoints for a singer-songwriter whose solo work deliberately veers away from the spikier, punkier elements of the band she once fronted, and into the realm of late-70s disco and mid-80s pop, where slang is blended with sentiment.

Whether this stylistic diversion is intended to give her sole work definition, a sign of artistic maturity, or just Ditto - as a now-established figure rather than the unusual outsider she perhaps saw herself as earlier in her career - being true to herself by replacing anger with adventure, it makes for a less startling but far smoother sound than the Gossip ever managed.

And when she hits her stride – as on the strutting Savoir Faire and Ooh La La, and the soaring arena-ballad Lover - Ditto can tear the speakers apart; confidence and presence have never been her weak points. Elsewhere, though, this sort of power-play flickers rather than glows, giving songs that could have been much more effective (We Could Run, Go Baby Go) an unfinished feel, only partially accelerating, with the occasional fireworks being unable to compensate for the flatness in between.

Two-thirds swaggering, stomping, and commanding, Fake Sugar falls short of being an indisputably excellent big-music album simply through a lack of momentum and magnetism at key moments. As returns go, it’s a loud tap on the window rather than a sledgehammer to the door, but Ditto’s individuality and vocal intensity means it’s a return we should welcome.