How do you follow up an album of poetic street-level realism that spoke to an entire generation about drugs, love, kebabs, pints of beer and loss? Spoiler alert - leave it 2 years and then record an album all about losing a grand down the back of a TV.
Yes, a grand don't come for free indeed but for a quarter of a ton you can own the wax and find out how long it took The Streets to lose, find and spend a grand, all to a mixture of preset rhythms and a load of badly recorded vocals.
The fact that it doesn't take itself to seriously really adds to its charm and makes for an enjoyable listen. Oh and he goes on holiday during the middle of the saga so he was probably alright for a few quid the whole time.