Stephen Coates, aka The Real Tuesday Weld (and aka The Clerkenwell Kid — how many alter egos does one guy need?), does not make records. He makes a kind of musical descendant of the mid-20th century radio play. His albums create a scene (usually London), set a mood (perhaps a rainy night in London), and sketch a story (what, you need everything spelled out?). No hit single up front followed by filler — Coates 'tales seem to get better as you get into them. In this lyrical, gently whimsical gem, his songs sound like Noel Coward and Cole Porter wandering out of the London fog into a studio full of laptops. Old-fashioned acoustic instruments and clever arrangements mask some very modern, almost trippy production. The actual story is somewhat elusive, and yes, it's all very English, despite the jazzy touches. But it also rocks, subtly. And in case you don't get it, the Puppini Sisters sing the last song to drive the point home.