No, it doesn’t match the divine polish or emotional architecture of Ray of Light – few records ever have. But that’s not the point. This album isn’t about rewriting history; it’s about finishing a sentence left hanging for 25 years.

All in all, the album is an above average collection for a band well past their expected use-by date; and with new blood injected into them, a world tour booked, and promises that they'll continue writing on tour, they don't seem to be stopping any time soon. This could be the beginning for a highly successful era of the band.

If anything, A Very She & Him Christmas can feel like a wet blanket at times, like a party that just can't get off the ground.

The Mother Stone is a stroke of real promise. With its harrowing peaks of dramatized catharsis and musical excursions that recall rock greats – yet look deep into a dark and obscure abyss – Jones’ record keeps audiences at the edges of their seats. If he can be reeled in to gather his thoughts more concisely, the sky is the limit.

Washed Out’s fifth album is a genuinely engrossing return to form, filled with memorable songs and flawless craftsmanship. A soundtrack for growing out of the past, and into the future.

There is a disappointing flatness to the songwriting, the performances and the general drive of the record. It is the sound of a band going through the motions, scared to make much of a show of themselves for fear of making a mistake.

There's potential here but it's sadly unrealized.

This kid may not have the voice of a generation, but there's certainly a demographic he could mean the world to. Once he figures out that it's what he has to say that should guide his singles, rather than what he imagines we want to hear, there may well be a great artist in Yelawolf.

Thematic speculation aside Green has managed, more simply to write a compelling collection of guitar pop songs.

If they stick to the melodic folk at the core of their best songs, that fateful open-mic night could be the beginning of something really great.

What this results in is an album that is just as frequently successful as it is frustrating.

Sure, they may borderline on gimmick at times, but Born To Die has its own sound, and that is more than we can say about a lot of music that is presently being released.

Mumps takes a little while to sink in in a different way to previous albums.

Though Mr. Impossible is their most accessible work to date, it's still unmistakably Black Dice.

Rave Age is an awkward half-step in a couple directions for Vitalic. It's texturally half-baked and predictable.

Though freer than the critically acclaimed Ungodly Hour, it is also less focused. Her performance rises to greater heights, but her music doesn’t always rise with her. Still, it is a work laden with potential.

Blessed with an old-fashioned FM radio charm, Here is a worthy follow-up.

Barnes has definitely taken a step in right direction.

Go With Me is like a big box of popcorn; it's tasty and it can be improved by the circumstances under which you're enjoying it, but by the end you're barely even tasting it anymore, and it certainly won't quell your appetite for a proper meal.

The record sounds tired, dreamy, and wasted in the daylight at five in the afternoon– it tries to be breezy, but instead still feels like 99 degrees of heat.

The electronic approach doesn’t work for every song, and a little more humanity and ambience would have been charming, but the appeal of the whole grows as nuances reveal themselves with repeated listens.

With this mixed bag he's likely cemented his reputation as a MC that was blessed with a sack of classic beats for his debut, now just a rapper like the rest of 'em.

Apart from the aptly titled "Film Credits," which, worthily, plays much like a ode to Max Richter, the music on the remainder of the album is left to unsatisfying and grey piano suites that don't sound destined for a more open setting nor benefit from the intimate setting of Arnalds' own living room.

Considering this is her first album since 2014, it’s unfortunate that it can feel a little one-note. A Romeo and Juliet-esque yearning wasn’t necessarily expected or desired, and it doesn’t always serve her best across this effort.

It just runs over half an hour, but time slips away when you’re inside it, wandering about.

Consistently being an upbeat adult isn't exactly an easy thing to do and at least here the band show that they can mature without having to completely forget who they once were.

Ripe for radio play it may never see, Spine Hits is a neutral but enjoyable record for the impending days of sun and so-what.

The vast majority of Dark Lane could play in a suburban Baskin Robbins without offending a single soccer mom. Honestly, they’d be unlikely to even notice it was playing. The few songs that would have moms asking to speak to the manager – which are by and large the project’s better offerings – feel more cribbed from younger artists’ playbooks than ever for the Toronto king’s rapidly aging brand.