Howlin' Pelle and co... have returned with the pomp, charisma and contagious sense of fun they're known for, with a surprising variety added in to the mix.

Lonely and desolate at times, the album would benefit from being reigned in slightly - amongst the 19 tracks is a brilliant 12 or 13 songs that, despite the subject matter, deserve to see the light of day.

An indie-disco hit, or a gorgeous ballad are only a blink away from dead in the water mediocrity and if you’re not patient with the album you might be tempted to write the whole thing off. Don’t though. It’s worth it.

The Days Run Away is a simple, pleasant, good-at-what-it-does indie pop album, but nothing spectacular.

On Scatter, Crushed Beaks find their a solid centre, as well as a gift for urgent, spangly melody.

It has a tendency to be superfluous--a stray tabla rhythm is never too far away--but ultimately it’s a fun record that’s clearly born of love and dedication. That’s something to be commended.

While Untogether is immaculately put together, it does take a while to cross over and connect with you.

Yes, there’s nothing of the size or scale of ‘Lean On’, but in unapologetically treading her own path, MØ’s beginning to carve a new identity all of her own.

The delightfully obtuse and sometimes anxious sketches on Arcadia are what make it both enjoyable, and frustrating.

Justice’s sound is still huge, still bludgeoningly and pleasingly direct.

Frequent changes in instrumentation and tone ultimately make Oczy Mlody feel unfocused, and without any of the band’s signature flamboyance to fall back on, it makes for a dull listen.

While fans of the band's more lo-fi beginnings may stare, open-mouthed, bemused at the central role played by synths on Forcefield, there's every chance they'll be gaining a whole slew of newbies, should these many choruses be set loose.

Bold, experimental, and an absolute delight, Bombay Bicycle Club cycle the road less traveled by, and that has made all the difference.

Persuasive, pummelling, precise, Refused may have--quite literally--set the agenda with ‘The Shape Of Punk To Come’ but here they’re proving that they can still translate the blueprints regardless of how much time has passed.

Vitriola is a fiercely political record, but one that seldom feels trite; married to the aggressive tone of a band back to make a point, it’s a razor-sharp lament of America in 2018.

The only dud is GAYLE’s ‘butterflies’, which does nothing more than showcase the record’s corporate origins. Sampling a Y2K hit would have surely looked good on paper at some point; in reality it’s a confused mish-mash of sounds, the sample appearing as an add-on, the newcomer without the star power of her peers here to hint lyrically at anything of note. That aside, life in plastic does indeed sound fantastic.

For the most part, the record is a heady trip that prances around greatness but settles for pretty good.

Rat Boy works best on this record not giving the fans what they want--but something new.

Back to their scrappy, atonal, lo-fi sound of the band's early days it mightn't be, 'In The Belly Of The Brazen Bull' is still a good album which sees The Cribs exploring new sounds and old – stumbling upon some truly excellent songs in the process.

It remains evident that the pair stellar pop songs in their armoury, but their over-reliance on a standard formula finds this debut stuck in a bit of a creative rut.

Overwhelmingly luscious at times, Range Of Light is a record that musically embodies the art of escapism, even if that does means evading even the consciousness of its listeners from time to time.

Wavves have created their most varied collection so far.

There’s a consistent sense of déjà vu that accompanies every melody, a pleasant sense of cosy familiarity, but also a like-ability running throughout.

‘Trauma Factory’ is overlong and occasionally indulgent, but if those are the terms under which Joe is operating, then this daring, forward-thinking genre piece is worth the price of admission.

Just as the pair’s ability to create moods with just their guitars is impressive--it’s a bit much over twelve tracks.

An album worthy of repeated listens but limited by its inability to adapt and enrapture a change of pace often just representing a drop in quality.

They’ve still yet to find that album that feels complete. While their eighth album, Wallop, isn’t quite it, it’s the closest they’ve been for quite a while.

It’s not routine or mundane, but the second half of the album represents a disappointing fade in if not quality, excitement.