20-year-old Nicola Varley delivers her presumed debut album. The cover art says it all, loud, brash, vibrant, in-your-face – but perhaps more tellingly, vulgar.

Once you get into Set Yourself On Fire, you realise almost immediately that the lyrical content is positively adolescent, and the lyrical flow yawn-inducingly generic. That’s not to say that the songs don’t stand on their own two feet, there’s reams of bulky rap tunes - none more so than Nadine, Friday Night, and Something About You.

However, this isn’t so much the gritty, unnerving hip hop of the Bronx as Essex playground; more puppy dog than Snoop Dog, which is why those over 16 are unlikely to find Set Yourself On Fire anything over than mildly nauseating.

If there is a positive, it’s that Varley undoubtedly has the gift of the gab, and Set Yourself On Fire at least tries to vary the listening experience, drifting energetically between straight-up hip hop and grime to pop – and even soul, although the latter again falls down due to its juvenile lyrical prose.

You can’t even say Set Yourself On Fire is not well made – it is, although producing well-made electronic music certainly isn’t as much of a feat in 2009 as it was in the old skool days of hip hop. If anything, this record is too sanitary.

Good luck to Varley, she has as much chance of making it big time as falling flat on her face – but if she is to become a big star of the future, it won’t be in my universe.