HAVING apparently been largely recorded in hotel rooms and backstage corridors while on tour, you could be forgiven for thinking 11 would have a raw edginess that will surprise Adams' family of fans more used to his polished, Springsteen-lite air thumpers and lighter wavers. It doesn't.

His 11th album of original material (see what he did there?) offers no more surprises than any of its predecessors. As harmless as an earbud, his uptempo moments keep time with your car's windscreen wipers - and sound about as dangerous - while his ballads find him intoning pearls of greetings card wisdom to a backing as lumpy as cold porridge.

That said, 11's crashing drums, big guitar solos and the string-soaked Walk On By will more than keep the faithful steadfast.