Let us get Kate Bush out of the way. Yes, Natasha Khan is a bit of an oddball and is prone to the occasional squeak or Tori Amos-like dalliance. However, neither of these girls served up an epic slice of druid pop-rock on a bed of Cure-d bass lines (`Glass'). 30 seconds in and she's off, whispering about `knights in shining armour' across dreamscapes of timeless but modern atmospherics. Her voice drifts across the bridge between the Cocteau Twins and sanity like an incoming mist.
However, it's not all good news. `Moon And Moon' is an unchallenging, if pretty, ballad. `Peace Of Mind' is harmonised banality that falls short of PJ Harvey. Elsewhere there is an over reliance on synthesised beats to induce and implore radio play. That said, it has worked a treat. `Daniel' is deceptively simple and wildly attainable because of it, despite whiffing of Fleetwood Mac. Her package is wrapped in a thin, but credible, alternative veil.
It's not all pop though. The back end of the album contorts into an introspective shuffle, far away from the heady, click-clack beats of earlier tracks. `The Big Sleep' even welcomes Scott Walker as operatic accompaniment for a poignant lament more in line with Antony Hegarty's `Daylight & The Sun' than with shimmering, pop-princess ambition.
Khan has grown in ambition with Two Suns. It is more adventurous and more polished. `Fur And Gold' was intriguing but not all it could be, Two Suns is a giant leap towards fulfilling her potential and an impressive achievement. However, like Björk, she should continue to evolve and shake off any shackles of expectation. We, the listener, should demand those next steps with urgency.