Diamond in the Rough. Nite Jewel, One Second Of Love.

It's an audacious, if perhaps unadvisable motion to release your sophomore record the week upon which Claire Boucher outs her third and finest although that's pretty much the definition of circumstance beyond Ramona Gonzalez' control. One Second Of Love is the follow-up to 2009's Good Evening, her debut under the guise of Nite Jewel and, although not entirely directly aligned with Boucher's lucid Visions, shares similarities in its neglecting of generic genre constraints to fabricate a style that's immediately evocative and indisputably original, if traceable to paths previously trodden. In the case of Gonzalez it's irrevocably '01 and it's again R'n'B that contributes in shaping One Second Of Love.

Opener This Story all too unfortunately sounds like Gaga G-side and invokes not even a millisecond of ardour yet it's indisputably something of a false-start, an introduction that's swiftly scribbled out by the segueing synth-led title track that comes across a little like Emily Haines fronting Vince Clarke's synthetic viscus, Gonzalez rhetorically warbling as to who may harbour "one second of love" for something or other. A tentative affection then begins to burgeon, previous single She's Always Watching You akin to Aaliyah had her eponymous third had its knobs twiddled by Stuart Price in place of Rapture Stewart whilst the schmoozy intimacy of In the Dark pitches in with Ashanti-esque mawkish pop chorus. Gonzalez then concedes with a smooth vocal delivery redolent of that to ooze from the shapely lips of Sade: "I've begun to conceive / You like other ladies before me" and whilst we may hope this is far from confessional (for hubby and longterm Ariel Pink collaborator Cole M. Greif-Neill produces impeccably throughout) Gonzalez purveys herself as an incontrovertibly erudite songwriter. Although the message may be similar to much contemporary fodder to fester perennially in our artless charts, few could 'conceive' Ms. Cole to profit from such vocab.

Woozy Olof Dreijer-like synth gurgles meet unexpectedly ethereal vox on the freaky, folksy Unearthly Delights as a chic brand of Chic-like funk tousles with chiming guitars on Memory, Man. The love affair turns intermittently turbulent however: No I Don't, with its clacky rhythms and flatulent keyboard manipulations, replicates some of the worse stuff to emanate from The Shacklewell Arms' backyard; Autograph ought to have fingers darting down throats ("I've still got your autograph / It is on my heart" an agonising lyrical refrain reiterated well-nigh ad infinitum); and the frosty swill of Clive – inclusive of bewildering Nietzsche reference – brings One Second Of Love to a rather anaemic anticlimax that were it cinematic the late Whitney Houston would almost unquestionably have bleated over it. Mildly love-hate relationship, this one.