I Blame Coco, or Eliot Paulina Sumner on her birth certificate — let’s get this out of the way first: she’s the daughter of Sting and Trudi Styler and is trying to become the second of their children to make it as a musician.

There’s been much contempt expressed for her already, with shouts of nepotism and musical insider training. She shouldn’t worry. The shrieking will die down once Coco proves she can cut it on her own terms. It always does. No one doubts whether Toby Stephens and Rebecca Hall can act or whether Rufus and Martha Wainwright can hold a tune, and, if Coco proves to be a success, the same thing will happen for her. And Coco can do it, most of the time very well, in fact. Though she looks nervous, perhaps even frightened, when she takes the stage, she soon warms up and gives a great performance.

There’s a strong disparity between the tracks she’s released and the bulk of her material. Self Machine and Caesar are both glacial bits of electro pop, glistening tracks that could just as easily have been released by La Roux or Robyn. But the rest of her material seems lighter and more jovial than these. Each sounds like music you’d hear over the beginning of an eighties’ teen film. OMD and Duran Duran are pretty prominent in Coco’s songs, most of which bring to mind scenes of first kisses and really big shoulder pads. There’s more depth, however, than on a lot of eighties pop. Please Rewind and Turn Your Back on Love are lovely pop songs, punctuated by breezy keyboards and very catchy choruses.

As the screams attest when Coco departs, there’s plenty of excitement around her already. And there should be; she’s going to be a big deal over the next few months.