Sometimes they feel almost too airbrushed, with Mabel playing it a little too safe to qualify being described as wholly original or progressive. There are moments of talent and flair, but it would’ve also been refreshing to hear more personality (and less autotune). Nevertheless, it’s an album that contains some real highlights.

‘I Love You So F***ing Much’ is a bold return from Glass Animals, at times it feels that the concept slightly overpowers the album, but overall it’s a confident and well-crafted album that feels like it could be front and centre of an eclectic sci-fi soundtrack from the eighties.

A sprightly ten-song set which could easily stand up to anything released in the ‘80s.

Separation is writ large across the themes of Ghost Stories--and knowing what came next in Martin’s personal life, perhaps that was always to be expected. What’s not is just how lifeless so much of this material is, how instantly forgettable these songs are.

‘Small And Silver’ is a welcome break around the halfway mark, when their stock in trade is replaced with unsettling bass and an off-beat production. However, it’s only a hint of a promise to explore new territories and doesn’t go far enough to vary the album.

Soft Control is a carefully crafted debut that comes from a very real place and shows what can be achieved when you keep pushing forward.

Meteorites is the sound of a once-great band bursting into flames on re-entry.

A grandiose, instrumental finale, they're a reminder of the divinity that Moby was once capable of.

There’ve been worse assaults on the ears, that’s for sure. But for fans of the original eski sound, it’s a shame that Wiley has his eyes fixed too intently on his Ascent.

The result isn’t always beautiful, but it’s rarely dishonest.

At times the sonic influences can feel a little too obvious, but that is balanced by the undoubted highs, and the frank openness of his lyricism.

Ever mutable, always evolving, never anything but relentlessly restless.

Despite some angsty missteps, the reverb-soaked ‘Neon Bedroom’ confirms that the band’s talent for transforming the ordinary into the epic remains.

A bold and confident sixth effort.

Hurts have always been pretty unabashed about their mainstream ambitions, which is fine, but as they explore them further, it becomes easier to strip away the affectations and see them for what they truly are: a cheesy pop band.

Everyone involved on this slab of hertz has brought far too much to the table over the years to dismiss this and the record really works.

The majority of Grateful is forgettable at best.

Not a great pop album, then, but certainly the product of a great pop star.

Battle-hardened by lengthy tours across the land and beyond, Pale Waves bring that energy into the studio on a crisp, effervescent debut LP.

Plays it safe, doubling down on the formula that made his debut so beloved by fans, while making only subtle changes.

There is a maturity to this album, however it is still uplifting and fun, to an extent. However, maturity can only take a band so far so we are hesitant to give them credit simply for ageing (and learning while doing so, of course). What we will say is that the brilliance of ‘Rushmere’ comes from the Mumford & Son’s sheer talent and hard work.

With Glorious Foxes has made a pop album that, despite occasionally drifting into melodrama, serves as an enjoyable listen stuffed with genuine pop-gems, sun-baked choruses and enough bite to warrant repeated listens.

At 57 years old, a more than successful career in the music industry and an army of fans behind her, Mrs. Twain would well be within her right to hang up her boots, but she has certainly left us wanting more with ‘Queen Of Me’.

Aubrey Graham hands over his fifth project to cross 80 minutes, an hour and a half smorgasbord of all-new tracks. In his defence, the Drake cuisine is far too extensive and varied at this point, but this dilemma has been around for a number of years now and some sort of sacrifice for a better, more cohesive project has to be made if he wants to release another classic.

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.

So many of the risks taken are either unevocative or plain annoying, particularly when the tracks are structured with so little sense of development.

Moby’s attempts to paper over a demonstrable lack of songwriting inspiration with grand string arrangements and a sequence of guest collaborators only emphasises the tedium here.

The witty words about awkward relationships come straight from Art Brut but 'Fixin' The Charts' is also a response to classic American pop songs, with modern sequels to Motown, Dylan and, er, Kanye. The downside is that the songs are so melodic they make it sound like Argos is doing karaoke.

While offering more of the same, nevertheless does it with sparkle and verve.

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

They've birthed a catchy and danceable summer record which shows plenty of promise but falls short of something great.

Some moments are impressive, like the eight-minute epic of a title track ‘Take Me Back To Eden’, which sprawls and writhes between textures and knows just when to spotlight frontman Vessel’s holy outpourings. ... But the issue is, this opus comes over an hour into the album, and follows a number of lengthy tracks that seem to be trying to do the same thing, but less successfully.

With 21 tracks on display, Lil Durk clearly has a lot to unload. He’s justified in utilising this length – he’s got a great deal to process, after all – but there are aspects that could be edited.

A bizarre little record, Music And Words was seemingly kicked off in 2007. With a seven-year gestation, it would be nigh on impossible to maintain a full sense of coherency, but the twin artists just about manage it.

While elements of ‘Every Shade of Blue’ may struggle to cut through its over-ambitious production value, the album is bound to translate well on the big stage regardless.

While it has it moments, Sheezus is largely devoid of Allen’s pragmatic charm of 10 years ago.

A project that stands on its own, a work of engaging individuality, ‘Jackman.’ is his best, most in-depth album yet. Literate, experimental, and emphatically rebellious, it’s the sound of Jack Harlow operating on his own glorious terms.

It’s a pleasingly considered and well-crafted project from a man who’s contribution to the UK music scene should not be understated. A man who has proved himself yet again to be a talented and versatile producer with obvious respect for the music that has got him to where he is today.

Kind is a heartfelt, fully realised collection of songs, embedded with optimism providing a much needed hope for our challenging times.

While the slower tracks are perfunctory, it’s the moments where he stretches himself – vocally and musically – that elevate the album.

In general Sirens is listenable and catchy, only it plays to an unexciting scene that is largely turning (like the victims of a Gorgon themselves) stagnant.

A sound accompaniment to a decadent dance party, ‘Hot Slick’ is a move in the best possible direction for PINS.

This might not be as immediate and catchy as previous Animal Collective releases, possibly due to Panda Bear’s absence, but its one of their most transfixing and beguiling.

The record is funky, it might sound good near some waves (the title is also a play on the .wav format for digital music files, which Harris is constantly sending to studios across the world), and the beats generally bounce happily along. It does what it says on the tin.

They've mastered the anthemic choruses; all they need to work on now is the consistency.

Running to an hour long, Magna Carta becomes exhausting, bumping familiar motifs with such frequency that, as the album nears its close, the senses feel entirely numbed.

It's a real shame that out of 18 songs whittled down from a reported 462, the album has just three consistently good songs.

If you sometimes need to reach for songs that make you smile, that deliver adrenaline or emotional balm, then you could do an awful lot worse than Everything At Once.

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

It’s clear that Coldplay retain their thirst, their passion for making music--it’s merely a shame that it results in such polite noises.

Low In High School feels confused, misplaced, and tedious.

Honest, uncompromising, raw and restless, it's a rock album of some distinction.

At times, ‘Lil Baby 3’ comes close to grappling with maturity, but Lil Yachty’s version of adulthood feels distinctly shallow.

Playing it safe just a little too often, it finds John Legend in full flow, demonstrating his undeniable versatility – yet it can also appear to be covering the bases, offering breadth for the sake of breadth.

Unfocused, inconsistent and underwhelming, The Heavy Entertainment Show is homogenised pop at its most stupefying.

Not without its faults, In Plain Sight sees Honeyblood explore new avenues and break-out of any box they were previously placed in, with a genre-less collection of honest, futuristic-sounding songs.

Initial cuts from French duo The Blaze showcased their electronic influences, however with this new album they’ve gone above and beyond with their sizzling percussions, mournful vocals and trance-like sounds.

As a self-styled pop record then, Stay Together is something of a failure, distinctly lacking in hooks, entertainment value and any sort of real ingenuity.

An illustrious tour de force, this is experimental music that balances what’s classic, classy and cool.

Kaiser Chiefs fall further into the abyss of bands that have little new to offer in a current musical climate where progression is more closely measured than ever.

The classical elements are independently pleasing--as you’d expect when elements of Shostakovich, Mozart and so on are used--but by drenching it all in commercial dance production, the supposed ‘fusion’ becomes a bastardisation.

Macklemore remains unsure of himself throughout, lacking the rapping skills and natural charisma needed to get things onto a surer footing. In the end, it’s a sadly fitting album title.

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.

Unpredictably diverse and unexpectedly personal, this album sees Bugg managing to maintain the relatable style which won him so many fans in the first place, while taking the necessary risks that allow him to grow as an artist.

A chilling example of naked ambition prioritising production style over songwriting substance.

Ways To Forget is a bar-raiser--an album of intelligent synth-pop bubbling with humanity.

Unashamedly broad, it can lack detail and punch; yet ‘=’ has something about it that is difficult to shrug off, while being hard to truly relate to.

Shades of light and dark ripple throughout and keep the listener guessing.

Anna is full of uninspired and recycled riffs starkly illuminated by the God awful woe-is-me-I’m-northern lyrics.

It’s patchy then, but there’s enough quality here to suggest Croll is capable of better things in the future.

It's an eclectic mess that, when performed with such a light touch, just gels.

There's parts of On Desire that feel all too familiar, and there's parts that simply don't work. For every negative though there's a melody or lyric that makes it shine, and for that, the band are worth sticking with, at least for the time being.

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.

Major Lazer’s best songs have always acted as overstimulating sugar-rushes - but the formula that was once fresh and boundary-pushing for mainstream pop now sounds outdated.

some of Doherty’s lyrics are very... peculiar.... But even the weird lyrics merely add charm to this impressive return.

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.

It feels staid, played out, and more than a little boring; despite Ashcroft’s pleas for energy, it feels absolutely zonked out, the wire-thin production helmed by the songwriter himself.

There are echoes of Duran Duran, ABC and more here, but thankfully without the horribly cheap and nasty production values.

It's all pleasant enough, but is clearly trying to be something it isn't, coming off rather shallow and lightweight as a result.

This is an album of genuine intent, full of poignant reflections on romance, hope, fear, the past, the present, and the future. It’s got heart. And that’s enough for starters.

Ásgeir's music is far too complex and interesting to start writing off as advert fodder. There's a depth to his work that deserves to be burrowed into.

Ideas are left unexplored, while 2Chainz innate abilities – on his day, one of the best MCs around – is clouded by a willingness to pack the tracklisting with guests. If this truly is his last trap project, then perhaps a change is overdue.

As lyrically profound as ever, yet with a tinge of detached romantiscm. Pioneers they remain.

Never subtle but always entertaining, ‘KHALED KHALED’ is a wild ride, a rollercoaster that clicks into gear just as the world begins to re-open.

The songs are forgettable odes to familiar topics--home, heartbreak, dusting yourself off and picking yourself back up--that wouldn’t get a second glance if they’d been penned by someone less famous. Add to that some horrifically hackneyed clichés.

As an album in its own right it is terrifically tedious, 40-something minutes of mindless, meandering muso-muscle flexing with a never-more-limp ineffectiveness.

A weighty 20-track affair, it’s a record peppered with highlights.

Love Frequency sounds like a blended milkshake of ‘Experience’-era Prodigy and The Rapture, spiked with your upper of choice.

It has bassline crunch, and a very distinctive space-age exterior; so why does The Vision sound like it's playing catch up?

Smile leans on tired cliché and outdated dance-lite production.

It reminds us of the power of love, hope and indeed music can overcome those dark days and the importance of trusting in the universe and more importantly yourself.

Although Supermodel is derivative, it’s more often inventively imitative, rather than devolving into out-and-out mimicry.

Moments of the Jacknife Lee-produced album are assured--Gary Lightbody over-emotes particularly well on the maudlin "Life-ning" and "The Symphony" is rightfully pompous--but the uneasy truth is that Snow Patrol are merely background dinner party music for accountants.

Continually criss-crossing over itself, ‘I GOT ISSUES’ remains terrifically entertaining. ... Perhaps uneven, the record’s 14 track span provides room for growth.

It wears thin over the course of an album, and an appreciation for Eighties synth-pop is a must, but for a band in their thirty-fourth year, the League are still on good form.

Self-produced and melding electronic elements to their more conventional methods, this is a record by a band that has fallen in love with making music again.

I Love You, Dude feels as blunt and oafish as its name, and weirdly dated in its sonic palette. Sporadically engaging, but sadly nothing more.

Unfortunately, the album barely reaches the most reasonable of expectations. The strength of their flawless magnum opus, 'Better Than Love', overshadows every other song on the LP.