It’s a rousing ending, and one of the few mesmerising moments on the album: it’s just a shame that the band don’t commit to one route or the other.

His voice is stunning, a far-reaching, emotive vibrato evoking Roy Orbison that keeps the often surface-level nature of his lyrics from reaching full saccharine.

This is a varied album that combines old and new musical styles without the fear of pastiche.

Purposefully lo-fi, it would be easy to dismiss as self-indulgent nostalgia, yet its quirky charms and understated directness more often than not outweigh its faults.

This may not be what we were expecting, and it may not be the Paramore that we’ve come to know and love. But, at the same time, here are a band still discovering who they are, and this album may stand as an important step on that path.

The experimentation is there, yes, but this sees Nova Twins pushing themselves even further, incorporating even more, and doing anything to see what will fit. While the record’s highlights - ‘Soprano’, ‘Glory’, ‘Sandman’, and ‘Hummingbird’ - are attention-grabbing shooting stars, some songs here feel less dynamic.

Spend any element of time with it and each passing play opens the album up, showing it off as the special, if often-understated record that it is.

In the wider picture, this may not make the impressive strides 'Visions' or Purity Ring's 'Shrines' did, but there's every chance Lesser Evil can find an audience to smother it in all the affection it deserves.

Miley’s commitment to new horizons can’t really be faulted, and ‘Something Beautiful’ does indeed add yet another string to the star’s already considerable musical bow.

Its meandering ways may endear or annoy in equal measure, but it’s hard to argue that there is a consistency or pure quality to see this album rank alongside its illustrious predecessor.

It’s only when he tries to amp it up that ‘Chew The Scenery’ falters; ‘Stuck’ might possess a standard freshers indie chorus, but when it aims for Oasis-level swagger, it meets closer to the Gallaghers’ recent solo endeavours than bucket-hatted air-punches. Similarly the euphoria of ‘Yeah!’ misses the mark. Still, there are more than a handful of stellar moments.

‘Friday Forever’ is a solid record with an intriguing concept that unravels fantastically under Russell’s loosened leash.

Machineries Of Joy isn’t [the truly vital album], but what it is is a touching, ambitious and inventive album, and one which stands head and shoulders above most

For the most part, ‘The World Is Not Good Enough’ is, yes, as wholly pleasant as its colourful, cute-adjacent cover would suggest.

Come LP3, maybe they’ll reinvent themselves as a more wholesome proposition; for now, ‘Welfare Jazz’ stands as a document of a band that are perhaps more in limbo than they might first appear.

Dead & Born & Grown is a record perfect for those long dark winter nights, an emotionally rich collection of songs that deserves to put Watford firmly on the musical map.

For all its ambition, however, it occasionally leans a little too heavily on the cliched conventions of certain genres, particularly pop and dance. ... Nonetheless, its ambition and creative concept can still be applauded, and there are some hidden gems to be found

Hot Motion’s only pitfall comes from frankly how safe it feels. Sure, it’s bigger and brighter than anything Temples have done before, but its whole aesthetic is still nestled deep in their sepia-tinted comfort zone. ... Nevertheless, it’s a solid statement that Temples are alive and kicking, drawing fresh inspo from the past without fading into it themselves.

There's an unabashed sweet sincerity to Dent May’s music that makes Warm Blanket a joy to listen to.

Where ‘Spirituals’ - which both marks a return from a four-year break and Santi’s first release as an independent artist - works best, is as reminder and introduction. The cut-and-paste, mixtape ethos that shone through in the first place is still there.

The Terror stares back at you like panicked faces underneath a frozen lake, visible, but distant. It’s giant metallic bugs filling an apocalyptic sky and blotting out a blood red sun.

Some of the extremes on the album feel awkward--the heavy metal too heavy, the loops of death overlooped, the calm too suddenly silent--but overall it is a deep, yawning collection of exciting musical experiments to dunk yourself into.

Khan's state of the world message might be slightly obscured, but there's an obvious feeling of hope and refreshing lack of restraint on this hugely enjoyable return.

This album, for a short time, will make you question your sanity and the world around you.

Toeing the fading line between R&B and inner-city soul, ‘AFTER DINNER, WE TALK ABOUT DREAMS’ is flecked with hints of pop greatness.

We’d never want CHAI to lose their pep, but there’s something pleasing about watching them grow into something new.

The only thing lacking is a greater presence of the crowd on the record that seems to be have mixed down, but it is the audible ecstasy of audience participation that truly makes a live album, though here the delicate simplicity and precise execution of the music more than makes up for it.

That MCII can jump from sound to sound isn’t a surprise; but at times it does make for a slightly schizophrenic listen.