Musical reinventions come no more dramatic than that of 26-year-old Ben Drew. Not long ago, he was a spectacularly foul-mouthed rapper called Plan B. His debut album Who Needs Actions When You Got Words? was the kind of record where you're never far from a joke about contracting a sexually transmitted disease from having anal sex with a corpse. The first line addressed Drew's prospective listeners as "you fucking cunts", but not all of it was as charmingly twee.
Four years on, he is Plan B, a sharp-suited, Smokey Robinson-influenced singer, up on stage at the glitzy Cafe de Paris, dealing in post-Amy Winehouse retro soul of a romantic hue. If he had changed his musical approach any more radically, he'd be wearing a kilt and giving us Amazing Grace on the bagpipes.
The reasons for this transformation aren't entirely clear, although his debut album's sales figures presumably have something to do with it, the British public having proved strangely resistant to the whole abusive approach. They evidently prefer him like this: his single Stay Too Long has crashed into the top 10, not a fate that befell Mama (Loves a Crackhead). You could say it all seems a bit craven in pursuit of success, were it not for the fact that Drew is really good at it: his voice is grittily strong, the lessons he's clearly learned studying old Motown records pay off in the songs' unerringly strong tunes.
Just occasionally, a hint of the old Plan B leaks through. There's a burst of rapping during The Recluse, but it's most notable between songs; he speaks in the voice he used to rap in, which means he has a way of thanking you for coming that makes it sound as if he's about to nick your shoes at knifepoint. But when he sings, his past evaporates and he appears to have pulled off one of the toughest tricks in pop: change.
