Whilst her lyrical ability is still under question, there’s no doubting her ability to arrange a band and alter the mood and meanings of some undying classics.

It’s a theatrical 10-piece song cycle that neatly extends their work, while nodding to what came before. At its best – opener and lead single ‘I Still Have Faith In You’ for example – it comes close to reaching the transformative peaks ABBA scaled all those years ago. Yet for a piece of fan service ‘Voyage’ remains confusingly slight.

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.

The problem, however, is that the record suffers from a lack of variety and an overkill of nostalgia, while of a raft of identikit, if solid, guest vocalists it’s only Hot Chip’s Alexis Taylor who really stands out.

Some decent-enough songs on an overly long album mostly containing sub-par tracks from an artist capable of much more.

The songs are simple sing-alongs with some lovely hooks--but trying to open his sound to random ideas and new styles just doesn’t seem to suit.

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

["Night and Day" and "Flutes"] are glimmers of liveliness on an otherwise decedent record.

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.

All the usual suspects are in place as you would suspect from a band with, let's be honest, not that many hits of the great variety.

Producer MJ (of Hookworms fame) and the band intended to strip things back and become more economical with their sound. While they certainly have achieved this, in this instance it has arguably starved the songs and disallowed them the space to breathe.

‘Curtain Call 2’ is at its most engaging when the Detroit figure simply cuts back on the Billboard tie-ins, and reminds us all why he became such a revered rapper in the first place. ... As a project, however, ‘Curtain Call 2’ is weighed down by its flaws. There’s no ignoring the wayward path Eminem has taken over the past two decades, and the tracklisting reflects this.

Meh. It's alright, but I'm like... I'm like a bit bored, actually.

While sweetened by a potent handful of emphatic guitar romps, DIIV’s latest record quickly overstays its welcome, and ultimately would do well to be remembered as more than just a watered-down collection of indie rock songs.

Why You So Crazy? is a mixed bag, but the scales are tipped too far towards the underwhelming. Too much is poorly executed and feels incomplete, with an air of self-indulgence.

Apart from perhaps three exceptions, most of these tracks get lost in their own elegant, introspective and lovelorn swirl of tedious easy listening.

So par for the course, it should come with its own small pencil and scorecard.

This album is a step in the right direction in terms of mood, but it’s an overstep in terms of the emotional burden Brown is offering. The choruses are repetitive and don’t fit, and the take away should be focusing more on balance. However, it’s not a question of if he can get that balance right, but when.

Rather than a coherent and recognisable new sound, it seems as though all manner of ideas are being thrown at the wall to see what sticks.

There’s nothing inherently bad, but the whole venture feels akin to buying a Lamborghini and then driving it in a way that will maximise fuel efficiency.

Like the Tin Man from The Wizard of Oz, La Di Da Di too often feels like a soulless automaton tearing around on autopilot. If only it had a heart.

The results are mixed.

Alas, a good third of the album meanders and there's a drab formlessness to his sonic fog. Fascinating but flawed.

Where previous Colourmusic albums were spiky, unpredictable things, this set often feels content just to wallow in an amorphous sonic soup.

When it’s good, it’s very, very good, but for most of the time it’s really quite bland.

Unfortunately, the resultant package is very cleverly constructed and yet maddeningly dull.

The musical equivalent of a coffee table book this is a poised, polished album of covers and collaborations spanning a decade.

This sense of rejuvenation is somewhat stunted by the inclusion of some Fratellis standards. The results range from the exhilarating 'Baby Don't You Lie To Me!' to the tediously dull plod of 'Rosanna'.