Baxter Dury channels his father Ian a little, but not too much, in his semi-spoken word songs like this one, Celebrate Me.

Pity the poor sons and daughters of pop stars: doomed to be judged for ever by their parents’ success.

It always starts the same way. They make music as far removed as they can manage. But it always sounds somehow the same, usually because we can still hear the older voice in their vocals. And, let’s face it, we’re only here because of dad.

Jakob Dylan, Adam Cohen, Harper Simon and two Lennons, Julian and Sean – they’ve all been there. And they’ve all complained about it (I’ve had the conversation with two of them myself) arguing that they don’t sound *anything* like their dads.

But they do. And when they complain they sound massively ungrateful and entitled because the only reason most of them have an audience and a record contract is because of their dads.

Eventually there comes a time – there always comes a time – when they finally accept that and stop complaining about it and embrace the fact that, firstly, they will forever be judged against the parent and, secondly, that it’s not a bad thing.

So they give up trying to sound different, and their music is all the better for it.

The same with Baxter Dury, forever immortalised as the kid on the cover of New Boots And Panties, and therefore expected to give us a bit of dad’s Cockney rhyming slang whenever he opens his North and South.

Which he doesn’t do, thankfully. But he’s at ease with his own take on Ian’s sprechgesang and he’s created his own very distinctive style of speak-singing his own very distinctive narrative poems.

This, for me, is his finest example yet.