Hands up if you remember Leon Jackson. (American readers Lee DeWyze anyone?) Thought so. Somewhere in the deepest darkest corners of your mind there might be a few flashes of a roaring crowd and David Hasselhoff shedding pantomime tears, but on the whole the fate of the talent show winner seems to be to fall on Simon Cowell’s sword. Rebecca Ferguson narrowly escaped being put on the fast-track to inane power ballads by placing second in last year’s (UK) X-Factor, but considering for the past 5 years the runner-ups have all outsold their respective winners, losing may have been the golden ticket after all. Not a soul diva cliché but part Mary J, part Etta James and even a bit of Macy Gray, Ferguson interprets her songs with the conviction of a woman who has lived to see the world for what it is; complicated and often flawed. And the human condition which is so dependent on love or defined by the lack thereof. This is a seriously stunning debut.