Much of modern SF, despite it's Galaxy spanning outlook, futuristic technology, big bangs and 'raygoons' is pretty toneless, grey and single-voiced as far as characterisation goes. I'd just read a stretch of books where, despite it's Galaxy spanning etc., it was just one voice and one character - undifferentiated miasma. Chris Beckett rains on that parade of pap and leaves a clear, sparkling fresh outlook. Discrete and complex characters inhabit a detailed believable world which has a disconcerting familiarity. The story and set up is reminiscent of the High 'C's of classic SF - Cowper, Clarke, Cooper, Coney, Compton, and dare one say it, of Big John Brunner - but it is a modern world coloured richly by the writer's background.
HOWEVER the whole experience is destroyed by the lack of text editing - sentences nonsense ; guess the 'world' competitions; is that man extra letter; is hat a letter short? I gave up recording the copy blunders after about a hundred pages. HOW did this get to press? It's a shame.
Although it is an interesting read with some unique, funny and intense moments I recommend you wait to see if it is ever published again and the publisher puts "Special corrected proof edition" on the cover.