Nick Hemming must sometimes get pissed off. You know those moments when those successful friends of yours start unsheathing their wrists and flashing their new casios? Well, put yourself in Hemming's shoes and imagine your old band-mates were Paddy Considine and Shane Meadows - how would you cope with it when your best buddy starts waving his BAFTA about the joint? No new company car is going to cut it when this guy has had a few beers and is trying to impress your hot auntie. Beginning in the band She Talks To Angels in the early-nineties, working on soundtracks like A Room For Romeo Brass and Dead Man's Shoes, and now being the creative force behind The Leisure Society; clearly Hemming has never needed to impress, and his work speaks for itself.

With The Leisure Society's debut The Sleeper arriving in 2009, it exulted a further depth to the work that Hemming had already crafted with a measured nonchalance. This ethic continued through to 2011's Into The Murky Water. With years of creating in a provincial, deepening manner, new album Alone Aboard The Ark is one that great lovers of the art of song writing will be peeking over their stained leather-bound diaries at.

Generally riddled with metaphor, this is an introspective release. Nick Hemming manages to juxtapose the incandescent, drifting musical qualities with a satirical commentary about youth. "You fade in the haze of the opening road, I fought for you once, but must let go" paired with "Consoling every unpaid artist, a chance to finish what they started" helps the album's opener 'Another Sunday Psalm' arrest the listener.

Like many out-of-the-ordinary records, this is a piece which is comprised of a diverse array of memorable moments. The choruses and lo-fi synthesiser motifs on 'Fight For Everyone' are infectious, the gospel-like instrumentation on the bittersweet 'All I Have Seen', and Hemming's emotive, teething vocals and 'The Sober Scent Of Paper'. In many respects, it has a rewarding first listen at its behest, which is rare for something of this ilk.

Where this album suffers is in its production. I find it baffling that a record which is routinely off-kilter in its sentiment and identity to have gone for something so clinical and safe. It's the only aspect of Alone Aboard The Ark which sounds like a contemporary British release. It's a shame that it prevents this from being as ambitious in sound as it is spiritually.

Out of this twelve track pool, there aren't really any other songs like 'Tearing The Arches Down'. A powerful piece with outstretched themes of modal interchange, aggressive articulation in the guitar, strange rhythmic embellishments and lines like, 'the memory-stained footsteps will bury the day that we left': it's reminiscent of John Vanderslice.

As the songs crawl by on the record, white hairs begin to appear in its facial hair, and its succinct voice begins to resolve into a mumble. It's more lackadaisical and habitual, not in a Blitzen Trapper Furr way, but more of an unintentional stupor. 'We go together' is the glimmer of hope in its eye as it slumps into a rocking chair and hums the dessert "we're the last in a long line."

While there are some tentative aspects of this record, it is hard to imagine too many similar releases this year which have such a ballsy intelligence to their songs. Perhaps in a few years, this'll be Nick Hemming's equivalent of Neil Young's Trans, I don't know. This is a absolutely a record worth hearing though, and if you're left unfulfilled it'll be out of frustration, not disappointment.