‘I’ve forgotten how I used to write my name,” Hope Tala winces, in the diaristic opening bars to her debut album. Seeking clarity through her pen, the soulful west Londoner is wrestling with growing pains and writer’s block – but then it all flows out. Over a honeyed mix of bossa nova, R&B and pop, and in her gorgeous, breathy voice, Tala ruminates on heartbreak, self-confidence, faith, family and friendship.

The bright Lights Camera Action quotes Maya Angelou and has the serenity and sunshine of early Corinne Bailey Rae, but ends with a targeted shot at a fame-hungry sell-out. Survival reflects, eloquently, on her relationship to her father’s Jamaican roots, over shuffling, unsettled drums and harmonies befitting a 90s R&B girl group.

It’s not Hope’s style to sensationalise – since her first single in 2018, her music has been earnest and grounded, never theatrical – but over 16 tracks, Hope Handwritten’s consistently mellow mood downplays the turbulence in her writing. It feels a missed opportunity that tracks about religion and mental health (Magic or Medicine) and knee-trembling, earth-shaking romances (Shiver) should share the same level-headed delivery, and that a mid-album trio of love songs blur too easily together.

Bad Love God, the record’s odd-one-out, matches an ominous, sexy bassline to a flirty, conflicted dilemma. “I’ll try to repent,” Hope promises, before worshipping at the altar of a forbidden hook-up, “holy water” on her tongue. It shows just how fresh a switch-up can sound in the hands of this talented writer, even if it risks more growing pains.