We’d be looking at an even better record had it allowed the space required for her often unrecognised jaw-on-the-floor vocals, but as a whole Melanie C has drawn from a whirlwind year to make a jubilant album that understands where she is right now.

Ultimately, the songwriting isn't quite weighty enough to sustain a full album. Worth a check if you're a previous fan.

On this record Leftwich has managed to turn tragedy into uplift using a consistent sonic formula.

At times her deliberate vocal style disconnects the listener, and one hopes as Green’s career progresses, she trades in the allegories for something a bit more emotionally inclusive.

‘Funeral’ is a mixed bag, and feels more like 24 tracks Lil Wayne had lying around than a coherent project. It’s a shame, because there’s a very good album somewhere in the 24 tracks on offer, but it’s weighed down by a lot of filler.

Hardly essential, then, but Unplugged is a fans-pleasing release that serves as a reminder that songs with great longevity needn’t always be played loudly.

An album that suffers from feeling just too assured.

Haines’ singular vocals have always been the band’s not-so-secret weapon, and it’s here [on ‘Enemies Of The Ocean’] where they shine greatest, jumping from hauntingly beautiful to full-on rock goddess mode. However, much of the rest of the album just goes to highlight how it’s a game of two halves. You could literally compile a list of the numbers that are over five minutes as the standouts and ones under as pedestrian.

It'd be unfair to tag Dreams Come True as merely a curio for Grizzly Bear fans. It's more than that--but only just.

Herring’s blessed baritone vocals teamed with their trademark bittersweet synth and hefty baselines will continue to make for decent, honest albums for as long as the four-piece please, but the introduction of a faster, lighter tempo in tracks like ‘The Painter’ and ‘Hit The Coast’ could mark the beginning of a much-needed dive into uncharted musical waters.

Yes, the production is razor sharp, the beats are skewed and often very loud which makes them feel important, but in reality, it's all a façade; an image.

The only maturity in their sound is towards a more ambient quarter. Elevator music not quite, but rising out of the background might be an issue.

More Waitrose advert than classic Wrigley’s; the Black Keys’ raw power’s been polished. Some things are meant to stay rough around the edges.

LAHS is the sound of a band in transition. A record where the sunshine is too few and far between. They’ll surely be back on track before long, but for now, we’re going to have to look elsewhere for that aural vitamin D.

Their commercial star has long since waned, but there is enough here to suggest that Gomez's creative light still flickers on.

Was it worth that wait? That’s open to debate, but it’s definitely not an album you listen to and wish they hadn’t bothered.

While undeniably sweet on a surface level, 'Cry Mfer' is a clear reaction against the self-seriousness that runs rampant throughout indie music, and while its conception proved challenging for My Idea, this debut is a clear sign that specific working relationships can bear remarkable fruit.

Unfortunately, HAAi’s music here tends to be a bit stiffer, forgoing the benefits of a heady groove in favor of direct impact. If you’re up for it, it might well help you ascend, but it often feels like a forced way to go about it.

One wonders if the venture should have reached out to the band's full catalogue, but it remains an adventurous extension for those who hold them dear.

Let’s Go Sunshine is a solid album, though not groundbreaking. It is clear that The Kooks have tried to deviate from their established sound in a way that doesn’t completely alienate older fans, and rightly so.

As it stands FM! is little more than a placeholder--an interesting but self-indulgent sketch from an artist who could be creating masterpieces.

Throwaway fun, for sure, but throwaway all the same.

‘The Life Of A Showgirl’ has its moments, but lacks the consistency of Taylor’s recent work.

Peter Katis’s production can at times strangle the band’s live thrash.

While at times lacking in lyrical insight, Fink’s ability to maintain an atmosphere, to build up gentle, soothing bubbles of sound, is largely unmatched.

Though its DIY production takes some getting used to, it’s an interesting insight into where Smith is as a songwriter today.

Collaboration with Rancid’s Tim Armstrong, huh? Sounds right up plenty of people’s streets. But that “sweet spot” (in the main) seems to boil down to some cheesy scratching in amongst the ska pop (see ‘My Name Is Rat Boy’) and Jamie T-style vocals. But all is not lost. The keys of ‘Follow Your Heart’ are dreamy and unexpected.

'Limbo' is certainly not a representation of his best work, but rather an example of a talented artist not pushing his boundaries.

Tracks still miss on occasions, and Glover writes with such self-awareness that the listener can regard him as a full-of-himself show-off, someone who believes he deserves musical success just because he’s achieved it in television.

Cosmic Wind still manages to set a mood, languorous and lush, perfect on a capital’s rooftop, cocktail in hand, the last sunrays hitting perfectly. But you can all too easily imagine this slotting into some Spotify algorithm, a mood playlist titled “Summer Vibezz”.

‘Come Home The Kids Miss You’ illustrates that he’s not quite there yet, but he’s certainly Justified.

Musically stripped to the basics, the set is engaging with an infectious charm, neatly adding to that capacious back catalogue.

‘Spell My Name’ [boasts] moments of rich maturity, the kind of lyrical openness that has always made her work so intriguing. Yet there’s also an unwillingness to embrace contemporary movements in R&B, in the manner of, say, Brandy’s recent LP.

Across its 10 tracks, the album focuses more on the complete experience than unexpected instances of sidestepping intrigue.

A band mentality may of allowed the material to work some new ground but as a solo project we’ve a dense collection all sticking to one vision. One to dip into when the storm clouds are approaching.

Distortland may not see them return to the genius pop level they had up until 2003's ‘Welcome To The Monkey House’. But it is much closer.

The Golden Age ultimately comes across as try-hard penthouse party than wild warehouse rave.

There’s still plenty to admire here, especially Gracie’s emotionally raw, brittle vocals and despite the record’s shortcomings, this remains a solid, entertaining debut from an exciting new talent.

Multi-Love undoubtedly reveals Unknown Mortal Orchestra's willingness to reinvent and innovate, yet it's still beset by some of the difficulties that have featured in their previous work.

Loma is an interesting concoction, but one that doesn't always necessarily gel. It's undoubtedly a lovingly produced set of tracks, filled with an almost tangible level of texture, but the songs often don't match their treatment.

It remains a fun and enjoyable pop record, even if its creators do seem more reluctant than ever to venture from their well established comfort zones.

‘Driving Just to Drive’ drives safely. Perhaps too safely. We may yearn for Maltese to put his foot down, but it could be argued there is solace in safety. Not everything has to be hell for leather.

There's nothing that innovative or thought-provoking, but that's hardly the point. It’s freaky, it’s naughty, it’ll get your head nodding.

If they’d dared to be a little more vulnerable with their sonic approach, ‘World Below’ could’ve been an immense album. Nonetheless, Baby Strange are back in valiant style.

There are a few points in the album where Lauv begins to take an interesting turn, only to retreat to familiarity.

Pity Sex may have taken few risks to make a breakthrough album and they’re hardly re-inventing the wheel, but White Hot Moon is a solid effort and a worthy follow-up to debut ‘Feast Of Love’.

Production is loud and punchy and even the quiet bits aren't quiet, which makes all sixteen tracks in one sitting a bit like hard work.

The album can become at times feel too self-involved and unsettled, in regards to the fluidity of the tracks and the thorough examination of emotions, which at time has the tendency to sound a little forced.

Even at its worst this hotchpotch collection is pleasant fare.

Bleak as you like, but strangely cathartic in many places, it's absolutely the worst album to soundtrack your Christmas lottery win. For the rest of us dour wageslaves, it's perfect.

Although this album does replicate almost everything they’ve created it has that sense of maturity about it, showing that over the sixteen years they’ve moved on from their rebellious teen stage.

The project doesn’t really find the band moving outside their comfort zone – indeed, ‘Candid’ is defined almost by how resolutely ‘Whitney’ it feels.

This is an auspicious start, but it too often seems that Samaris lack the inherent ability to fully realise their ambitions.

All this does is reassert the effortless, enduring power of those original pieces; find the originals and save your pennies for the forthcoming Carpenter tour.

It is impossible to deny the craftsmanship with which the trio have sculpted the opening salvo of 'This Is It' and 'Loveless'. ... Sadly his talent for building epic, emotive crescendos does not overshadow his shortcomings as a lyricist.

Asymmetrical and pitched up and down at any given moment, Miscontinuum is an unwavering data stream whose moments of relative clarity still press on your temples like a tightening vice.

For all its lack of idiosyncrasies, however, there’s a credibly unashamed attitude to creating perfectly fine pop songs.

While end-of relationship heartache churns throughout You & I, there is enough twisted darkness to suggest these sisters are here for the long haul.

Most of these tunes are neither dog turd nor diamond. They're decent-ish disco-punk stompers sold by the vocal.

An honorable effort in what they do best.

Azari and III are good clean honest fun, but not the future of music.

There’s a lingering feeling, though, that 2 Chainz hasn’t quite distilled exactly what to do with the opportunities being presented to him.

Repent Replenish Repeat is their most mixed work to date.

The hallmarks of Simian Mobile Disco are present - huge beats and house loops take centre-stage - but many of the tracks just feel like they're missing a vital component.

The whole set comes off like a collection of Future songs--with some Drake verses clumsily tacked on as an afterthought.

BDL Bipolar will give Narstie’s fanbase plenty to enjoy, and while the juxtaposition of staid instrumentals with subversive lyrics is jarring, he remains a gifted MC, worth hearing out.

Their interpretation of Barrett Strong’s ‘Money (That’s What I Want)’ and the mysterious sounding ‘Fever’ brings a different dimension to these classic songs and breathes new life into these and other legendary songs.

CCCLX is fantastic as a momentary escape from the lights and sounds of the mad world we’re living in, but once you’ve holstered the pastel pink desert eagle and left the booth, you’re left with only a handful of killer moments that might entice you to return.

The ’80s sci-fi pastiche meets early-’00s girl power wears thin over 11 tracks, but there are still moments for the dancefloor.

A work of typically broad imagination, not everything on American Interior fully clicks into place. Yet when it does, there’s more than enough to suggest that Rhys need not cease his eternal voyaging.

Sadly there are too many beats and samples that it can be hard to keep up with the ferocious pace, despite the obvious talent and flashes of genius on this record.

At times the effects are superb.... However, there are wobbles with the quality control.

We’re submitting this one for further clinical studies.

Spread across 18 tracks, Meek Mill's creative contouring isn't fully consistent, leading to some awkward moments; 'Love Train' and 'Love Money' feel insubstantial, while the mid-section loses its punch.

This is hardly music to quicken the pulse and there’s no escaping the sense of sameyness over the album’s 40 minutes.

Diamandis is using her music to discover who she really is. That said, by the end of Froot, we're still none the wiser.

Nothing here transcends either songwriter's back catalogue, but Jonny is a welcome blast of warmth that shows the fires still burn bright.

An album that could be the soundtrack to the most fucked-up cowboy movie yet to be made.

GINGER is new ground for Brockhampton, and a gentle nudge to others, urging them to go on their own paths of rediscovery and explore their roots. Thing is, we might need a bit more than a gentle nudge.

This album is a black-belt in terms of song writing and instrumentation... but when McCombs’ lyrics can’t match up, Tip Of The Sphere sounds like it’s limping.

This album works best when those ideas are allowed to flourish and persist. When the arrangements get too embellished and full, they veer too far away from what makes Carpenter’s economical gestures so enduring, relying too heavily on virtuosity for comfort.

It's a bold and stark opus worthy of attention, if your attention span is long enough.

A pleasant, occasionally saccharine listen.

It’s a jarring listen from start to finish, but worth sifting.

An honest and admirable collection that merits some attention.

No, No, No is as sweet but as filling as an after dinner mint, and sadly it's probably dinner this album should accompany.

Some good, many passable, a few questionable, to say the least. There's plenty here to pick out and enjoy, and that's all that will matter when the single songs are playing in your pocket, but after all the gems the label has given us over the years, 4AD deserved something better.

There are moments where Dior shows his undoubted potential and those moments save this album from being completely mediocre, unfortunately, those moments don’t come anywhere near often enough.

Overall, whilst Semicircle does contain obvious flaws, this chapter of The Go! Team is here to have a good time and hopes you are too. And who can knock them for that?

A new chapter for the band perhaps, which may lead to some great results in the future. But whittle away the highlights and you realise Grasque perhaps works better as a great EP.

Who cares if Stoltz listens to the Kinks and Beatles too much when he sings like an angel?

Major Lazer stands for firing on an all cylinders but doesn’t warn against the oomph taking leave of absence, though it does play off the shoulder of the first LP just lovely.

‘Iceman’ is at its most interesting when exploring these conditions and vulnerabilities, but all too often Drake relies on tropes from previous albums to get him over the line, when he should have been trying to burst through the tape.

It’s by no means a bad record, but won’t be the trap pioneer’s most memorable either.

The best moments remain the songs where the band moves as a unit, conjuring a sense of hope and elation, rather than falling back on tired, shouty punk cliches.

‘Bloom’ is not a weak album by any stretch. The title aspires to present an album and a band that are maturing and flourishing musically, however it is difficult not to feel somewhat underwhelmed by the final result.

French’s flow and character may be the same as his previous works, but his stature within the rap world has rocketed.

Useful, thrown-back fun, comfortable off the cutting edge.