There's still the charm and energy and all the qualities that made us fall in love with The Go! Team in the first place. But it's like a child who's recently learned one song: cute the first few times, but even the most lovable things eventually get tiresome.

This is an odd thing to say, given the dumbness of so many contemporary rap songs--is that Kweli tries to cram too much awareness into his lines at the expense of rhymes and flow. But trying a little too hard to find enlightenment can be forgiven when it comes from within a genre that often tips bravado ahead of insight.

21 is simply stunning. After only a handful of plays, it feels like you've always known it.

Mine Is Yours occupies an unremarkable middle ground somewhere between their bluesy, abrasive tendencies and the kind of staidly proficient indie-rock that surely wasn't part of the plan to begin with.

Gregg Allman's history lesson may not match his finest recordings, but it's a diverting blues miscellany from an undoubted master.

Improving prospects aside, though, the basic deal is the same, and Cloud Nothings rattles along at a fair old clip, boasting an embarrassment of hooks delivered with unassuming, 'it's-probably-nothing-but' panache.

The slushy sentiments will click with a tweenager in the throes of a first crush--but anyone with life and love experience beyond passing notes around at the back of class is advised to pass on this collection of monochrome musings in favour of something with a heartbeat. Perhaps, even, something that rocks.

"I Was Never Gonna Turn Out Too Good" the lone standout on an otherwise turgid record, but that's only by virtue of its sheer oddness.

Even though the initial delight wears off relatively quickly, this is still a weird and largely wonderful insight into a band equally capable of frustration as they are innovation.

Beam's songwriting retains a cryptic quality, but the feeling shines through, and however far Iron & Wine travels from its starting point, it still won't feel far from home.

Hardcore fans can, of course, simply ignore it, but they're exactly the people who might've hoped for something more. As an introduction to Pearl Jam's on-stage prowess, however, this is a tidy effort.

Despite being disabled with rotten cover art, Ritual is a sturdy affair, and one that should continue White Lies' steady ascent towards something serious and important.

When all's said, Some Kind of Trouble is not a terrible record by any means, but there's little sense that Blunt has advanced--and equally little sense that it'll make any difference to his bottom line.

Fujiya & Miyagi are an invigorating mix of the cerebral and the visceral. In a just world, they'd be the new lords of the dancefloor.

It is, simply, a thing of beauty, its hook quotient the highest of The Decemberists' discography.

Social Distortion are clearly unhurried by the passage of time and passing trends. And it shows, as this is a fine addition to their canon and proves they're full of a very important quality: life.

A rich, warm, big-hearted and hilarious album.

Their 11th studio album is 40 minutes of gorgeous nothings, full of intricate curlicues of sparkling Colin Newman guitar and synth given beef by the surging rhythms of Robert Grey aka Gotobed and Graham Lewis

Warm and confident throughout her second album, Hilson is becoming hard to ignore.

The set is a masterclass in how to respectfully update and enhance classic music, and proves how vital and relevant 30-year-old music remains today.

Their songs are very nearly as good as the tale behind them.

It's nice to hear a female artist singing so much from the belly, even, at times, with a stirring kind of anger – as in the rollicking Peace Signs.

This should have been a fiery celebration of three decades of waving the ragged punk rock banner; instead, it's a laurel-resting plodder.

Wasted in Jackson ticks lots of stylistic boxes, and while that shouldn't usually cause problems, overall this is an album that doesn't seem to entirely know what it wants to be.

With this collection of erratic egos, who knows; but the ebullient, daring Progress sounds more like a fresh start than a final destination.

More quality grime would be nice, but Winner Stays On proves Roll Deep are no longer an underground crew trying to make pop: the charts are there for the taking.

With O, Markus Pop has reinvented Oval using new techniques to produce a challenging sound world that's simultaneously exhausting and fascinating.

Considering No Name... is compiled from several years of writing between kinetic hard touring, the coherency on display is impressive, as is the volume pumped out by a mere brace of noisy souls.