IF all farewells should be sudden, Mike Skinner clearly begs to differ. The deadpan rapper’s final outing as The Streets was signposted three years ago, and the fact it’s taken so much time to land suggested it would either be a tortured masterpiece or a can’t-really-be-bothered gesture.

In some ways, it’s a tribute to Skinner’s ability to keep himself grounded that Computers And Blues is neither.

Where Skinner’s last two albums saw him variously railing against a celebrity world he couldn’t totally avoid and putting himself under a harsh microscope, Computers And Blues carries more echoes of the carefree, clean-slate Brummie who first emerged with Original Pirate Material more than a decade ago.

Skinner isn’t going to pull any rabbits from hats: Outside Inside, Roof Of Your Car, Puzzled By People and the chiming Without A Blink are basic, stripped-back urban-pop, with no frills and few thrills, but showcasing an artist at ease and giving the people what he believes they want before he departs.

To be honest, Computers And Blues only really comes alive halfway through with the electro-pulse of Soldiers and the soul-searching of Blip On A Screen and We Can Never Be Friends, tracks which once again prove how Skinner’s classic songwriting ability has so often been ignored behind the geezerish front cover.

But as final albums go, it covers the bases. Good enough to keep a reputation intact; not so astounding that it creates a clamour for more. And Skinner, as upbeat as he’s sounded for ages, clearly doesn’t want more.

Dry your eyes, mate. He sounds glad to be going.