By now we're all enthralled with Naomi Pilgrim's offerings, no matter how scant. She's managed, with only a handful of tracks, to have us on tenterhooks, hounding her frenzy-eyed for the next slick morsel of aural Turkish delight. Well, on debut EP No Gun, she doesn't make any concerted effort to alter that process: of the meagre amount of tracks (there's three), only one is still trapped in it's cellophane wrapper.

The Barbadian/Swedish songstress firstly tries her hand at Lady's 'Money'. There's a faint Amy Winehouse-ness to Pilgrim's vocals: all breathy, and while dripping with despair, incredibly powerful. It's a tremendous slab of neo-soul pop. New cut, 'Rainmakers' featuring wonky bass and stuttering aquatic percussion squelches, leans heavily on rhythms for the most part. That reliance on one musical area serves to strengthen the enormity of when the chorus hits: Pilgrim's dreamy words limply drizzle from her lips, as if she were an effete débutante sprawled on a chaise longue, á la Daisy Buchanan. As the track morphs, the bassline becomes more vital, a dance-pop heartbeat for the swirling hypnagogia. It's an astonishing combo of opiate-delirium dreamworks and Icona Pop dancefloor fillers.

Obviously, the main course is still the highlight. Speckled with steel pan shards, and the balmy embrace of tropical hooks, 'No Gun' is an anthem of the greatest stock. The lyrics are simultaneously poignant, witty and infectious, inviting questions as to her apparently mesmerizing personal life: "So I popped some speed, but it was way too fast/ seemed like a good idea, but now my arm is in a cast/ at least now I know I should just stick to grass..." The chorus is a headrush elixir, splicing sullen-hearted agony and the most rousing, inexplicable life-affirming snapshot. One one hand, Pilgrim opines about youth, on the other, she provides an uplifting mantra for everyone stuck somewhere, downtrodden.

The EP sees Fredrik Okazaki (Robyn) take the producer's reins, steering the torrent of blissed-out noise into synth-pop canyon. He's done a swell job of ensuring that Pilgrim's innate vocal talent isn't let down by sub-par noises, and he's done similarly well at painstakingly forging a signature sound: glitzy, diamond-encrusted synthesizers, bassy beats and a vibrant pop streak. But, first and foremost, this is Pilgrim's EP. Her debut foray may be criminally short, and we only get one fresh track, but it almost doesn't matter given its virtues. Besides, when you hear Pilgrim lead the way on 'No Gun', any qualms dissolve in an instant.