Another five star review for Neil Finn. How predictable. But what are we supposed to do with this guy?

He's made a career of stealing our senses with the most beautiful and innovative of musical creations, constantly recasting his mould so that each chapter is as fresh as those first tentative doodlings with Split Enz, now over two decades back.

Here, with One Nil, Finn has moved one step ahead from the sonically explorative nature of his solo debut Try Whistling This, to allow his innate sense of melody to again flow through more unhindered.

The angular edges of that first effort have been sanded back, the sophistication of this work lying in the purposeful juxtapositions of contrasting sounds, influences and players. The end result is so dreamy and, for the most part, so delicate that you fear making a sound while listening to most of it, should the whole thing simply shatter out of the speakers.

As with every record Neil Finn has ever been involved in, the opening track (here it is called The Climber) is an absolute corker, a concerto of melodies presented in a near-minamalist form, totally engulfing your head, heart and soul within the first half-minute of play. Finn gives much of the credit for this record's subtle and unique groove to his accidental collaborator, Wendy Melovin. And although he is unquestionably the captain here, this is obviously very much a band-oriented effort (there are actually a couple of rock moments too), relying on the artistry of Melovin, Midnight Oil's Jim Mogine and old friend Mitchell Froom to give life to this fairly fragile form.

Want some instant classics? Well, try 'Wherever You Are', or 'Secret God' or 'Anytime' or... actually, this is silly. The whole thing is an instant classic.