A patchy debut effort.

It’s so ludicrously colourful and loud and just the right side of ridiculous and whatever the mission may be, domination is the likely result.

TV en Français is more a more muted outing.

There’s so much to take in, it’s almost hard to know if it’s even any good. Between these sensory overloads, however, we get the funky bop of ‘All Wordz Are Made Up’ and the acoustic lullaby of ‘Think Before You Drink’.

The most interesting element of his chosen samples is the way that more classical instruments and acoustic guitar strums are looped, while his vocals occasionally get the remix treatment and judder along.

By all accounts, it’s in the crucible of live performance where this duo excels. But put on record, it all feels a bit lost in translation.

While they do make for a well-structured collection of songs, individual tracks are often disappointing and the result feels like a half-hearted series of Doctor Who; its audience sustained more by thrilling trailers and the promise of fulfilment than any real substance

Originality may not abound but Green Language still remains an undeniably fun record to sink your teeth into.

It’s possibly not to everyone’s taste--no doubt fans of the definiteness of ‘Pleasure’ may turn on this one--but it’s more confident and upfront, less immersed in background noise.

The Tourist isn’t ‘the worst’, but it’s far from the journey its designer hopes it to be.

[Walk the River]is not for the faint-hearted but it's certainly for the soft-hearted - three albums along, they still feed our hunger for the big, the wild and the honest.

Ratworld is that rarest of beasts--a debut album that’s got a backstory running deeper than all six seasons of Lost, but still sounds like it’s delivered without any requirement for effort whatsoever.

An experimental collection of recordings that shows just how well they are progressing.

Thieving like a magpie from his own box of tricks, there’s no denying that Gallagher is a songwriter from the very top of his class.

It flits from doomy death marches to frenetic, fuzzy psych rock freakouts like the fantastic ‘Choco Plumbing’, while indulging in some quirkier elements including a stomping cover of The Beatles ‘I Want To Tell You’ and a sweet, Casio keyboard run-through of American standard ‘Take Me Out to the Ballgame’.

Weak and boring are never words we’d have ever thought apply to Poppy’s music, but alas here we are – hoping for the ‘Zag’ to come.

The album’s strong-enough opening does little to distract from the toil of the tail end. The end result is an album that feels far longer than its sub-40 minute runtime.

Whether it be these jacked-up moments or those hazy, sinking flurries such as the freakish downer ‘Merry Nightmare’, everything Scott has written on Sunshine Redux encapsulates all of his best qualities. This time though, those qualities are amplified, pristinely-recorded and have even caught the sun a bit.

This is music that desires to be clutched to youthful hearts and fill sun-bleached fields or golden coastlines; a hunger to delight that is so insatiable it’s rather tough to question.

Like a pop phoenix rising from 2011’s ashes, ‘Let Her Burn’ is Rebecca Black showing us just what she’s capable of.

Falling somewhere in between the sophistication of Everything Everything and the flamboyancy of Maroon Five, it isn’t until the halfway point, and ‘I Feel the Weight’ that the familiar chill of previous releases is restored.

Last Night On Earth is filled with guitar licks that manage to sound ferocious and friendly at the same time, marrying a slightly avant-garde persuasion and tight focused songwriting with something instantly warming.

Comedown Machine has done the best thing The Strokes could have done.

With its muggy, lo-fi atmosphere, Be Your Own King works best at its most carefree.... [But] The tail end of the record does come to a bit of a standstill.

It cements ‘Going To Hell’ as a celebration of personal freedom, and the unwavering right for people to be afforded the opportunity to be comfortable in themselves.

Perhaps most impressively, is the record’s consistent hooks.

Lysandre frequently charms. It is a primarily low-key statement, but does enough to suggest that Owens' future post-Girls may be very promising.

This is pop music at its wittiest and most concise, yet for all its maturity and refinement, it's hard to believe that an album so youthful could be made by a group of forty-somethings.