It was luck more than judgment that saw David Essex turn in his hardest album yet in time to greet the dawn of the punk rock era; luck, and an instinctive decision to eschew the advice of producer Jeff Wayne and let rip with his rawest, edgiest sound (and songs) yet.

In truth, there is little here that emerges a rival to the best of Essex's canon -- no new "Rock On" or "Stardust," no proto-"Zebra Kid" or "No Subsitute." But the minor hit "City Lights" intrigues across its full five-minute span, and "Ooh Love" has a catchy charm which turns corniness into a virtue.

But still Out on the Street maintained Essex's ability to sidestep the pigeonholes into which a disdainful music press was desperate to drop him -- proof that, no matter how loudly the little girls screamed, he was still a hard-nosed rocker at heart.

It's not his best album by a long shot -- Essex himself says it wasn't the happiest, either.

But it kept him alive when so many peers were sinking, and that was an achievement in itself.