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overstimulating sugar-rushes - but the formula that was once fresh and boundary-pushing for mainstream pop now sounds outdated.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.