ALT-J’S journey is a bit like the story of the man who staggers, bloodied, from a wrecked car and, when somebody asks him what happened, replies: “I don’t know, I just got here myself."

Not that alt-J’s impact can be compared to a car crash – it’s pretty much the opposite. It’s more the case that even the Mercury Prize winners from Leeds University might occasionally wonder how they’ve got to the stage where they’re regularly tagged "the next Radiohead".

If alt-J were the only contenders for that particular accolade, it might be understandable. But the UK is hardly short on alt-rock right now, and many of alt-J’s peers give the impression of being more complete than the group who started off recording in their student halls without being able to use bass or drums, because they had to keep the noise down. Perhaps their awkwardness is actually a virtue. Unfortunately, it doesn’t always make for easy listening.

This Is All Yours is a frustrating album. When alt-J hit their stride and elevate their sometimes timid sound to real purpose and grandeur – as on The Gospel Of John Hurt, Warm Foothills, and the MIley Cyrus-sampling, electro-tinged Hunger Of The Pine – they seem progressive and assured.

But the three-song cycle inspired by the Japanese city of Nara – where deer freely roam; possibly alt-J’s metaphor for artistic freedom – is piecemeal; Every Other Freckle’s tongue-in-cheek sleaze is likely to make your teeth itch; and Left Hand Free is a clumsy stab at blues that gets nowhere near the crowd-pleaser it was presumably meant to be.

You can believe some of the hype. Just not all of it.

Review by Mark Stead