There's simply not enough killer songs here to snare you in the same way that, say, The Rakes did on their debut.

On closer inspection, it's clear Cyrus is hell-bent on stepping out of that pop princess territory--but only just.

Dos offers proof that, while less may indeed be more, Wooden Shjips give you more of less.

There's little not to love.

It would be crazy to suggest that Roots And Echoes is anything less than consistently fine, but from a band whose initial forays promised so much 'fine' doesn't quite cut it.

Off With Their Heads is, thankfully, a subtler, cannier beast, even if it does suffer from some of the same problems as its predecessor.

While not much of a departure from the honed formula of 'White Ladder', much of 'A New Day At Midnight' opts to pare down that winning mix of gentle dance beats and piano even further, leaving Gray's gorgeous gutsy vocal to do more of the talking on his melancholy tales of love and loss.

Last year's 'Bleeps Tune' proved conclusively that he could do drum & bass better than anyone else around, 'Solaris' proves that he has the nerve and range to go beyond it, continuing to source new sounds and create rewarding albums. The best, you feel however, is yet to come.

Recent devotees may be left wondering why there's nothing for them to sing-along to.

As a celebration of the b-side, this is such a charming set, despite its inconsistency.

Undoubtedly one of the year's strangest releases.

Little Death may well resemble stolen kisses behind the bike shed rather than an evening of prolonged love making with the object of your desire, but that is still preferable to a night in with just a box of Kleenex for company.

Everything suggests they have a great album within them, but this isn't it.

There is a childishness about CocoRosie's sound, but rather than a tame tweeness, it's the dark perversity of a genuinely infantile imagination.

For reasons of quality, as well as the inevitable loss of the shock of the new, 'Fatherf*cker' isn't quite the album its predecessor, 'The Teaches Of Peaches', was.

A dignified and engaging record.

We've been waiting over two years for a follow-up, and in that context, "Get Behind Me Satan" is disappointing.

Black Ice is far better than anyone could have hoped, played by people who by their age should know better.

The Circus possesses well crafted pop songs, with faultless production. There are certainly moments when Barlow comes into his own as a songwriter.

Their best album yet.

"Damaged" is as nuanced, temperate and contemplative as its predecessor.

Not content with making a diverse, punchy record brimming with those trademark riffs, Homme has written lyrics that make you think.

'Riot Act' may be neither 'the-best-album-since' nor 'a-brilliant-return-to-form', but neither is it more-of-the-same-but-less-so.

Souljaboytellem.com is hardly a revelation. Its strength though is its simplicity.

Yet another endearingly eccentric document: one that will largely support his growing reputation as a talented, contrary, and mischievously erratic artiste.

While the die-hard These New Puritan fan might be annoyed that six of these tracks have been released before, there's enough to make it abundantly clear here is a band with a brilliant sense of invention.

Bon Jovi are at their best when delivering the country-tinged ballads.

Sir Paul is largely on top form.