While the album at large maintains the lusciously rich production levels (a marked improvement over their prior LP, which was a stodgy and undercooked thing) there are frequent moments where a self-conscious attempts to inject ‘maturity’ into the song writing undercuts their former charms.

Despite its flaws this first solo offering is a human record; brave and honest, both in content and purpose.

If you’re looking for a neat musical reminder that David Crosby is one of the most influential men of his era--and can still sparkle with some of that same musical magic today, Croz is a worthy listen.

He lives and breathes it [music] like very little people today do, but for all the guitar work, humour, snarling vocals and at times great writing, there is consistently a level of cringyness that goes with it.

The chronological running order of Absolute Garbage is also unfortunate as it renders the CD impotent halfway through.

With a little more focus and a little less self-doubt, The Chapman Family's second record should easily surpass this still pleasing statement of future intent. Just so long as they don't take too much time recording it.

So slick is the production and so smooth is the transition from one moment to the next that Andorra suffers from an apparent reluctance to take us by the scruff of the neck and rattle us out of our mental Laconia.

While there are some lovely sounds on Somewhere Else... but it's hard not to yearn for something more.

There’s no doubting that sensory sensations offered here can hold the listener, but most likely they'll be enjoyed a helluva lot more while chemically-enhanced; essentially this is not a record designed for home listening.

In the hands of a different producer maybe the material assembled for When The Devil's Loose could step forward into something more Technicolor, as its faults are minor, but they are the faults which separate merely pleasant albums from great ones. As it is, When The Devil’s Loose is the former.

These layered, multi-directional numbers stand out rather than fit in. On either side are tunes a little too straightforward, big ideas a little too self-contained to really mesh in the way you want them to.

All the same, nothing hits with the same succinct and simple impact as early wins like ‘List of Demands’ or ‘Black Stacey’.

You can’t deny that their intentions are good, but Let’s Go Extinct really is just missing that certain spark that’s required to lift it above the middle ground.

You eventually wish they'd give the stadium anthems a rest and be more of that small band from High Wycombe.

If these average songs existed without the mercurial glow burning beneath the surface, you could unconcernedly dismiss it as another so-so album.

There's just so many country records being made, each a replica of another, that in moving away from Phosphorescent's original sound, much of Here's To Taking It Easy has found itself dangerously subscribing to banal convention.

Waterloo To Anywhere might not redeploy any cultural guidelines, but take it at its own merits and you may be pleasantly surprised.

Great in parts though it is, Magic Potion isn’t quite the album to attract a raft of newcomers to The Black Keys’ archaic rock.

It's a tighter take on pop than their early records, but as the storming energy that kicks off Heavy Mood begins to ebb away the group begins to feel oddly charmless.

Yet, as a whole, the record has one obvious flaw: it's dreary.

As a whole the record is coherent, but contrast, juxtaposition and the element of surprise are the missing pieces of the puzzle.

Tracks like ‘My Step’, ‘Feather’ and ‘Blinking Pigs’ have that unique ability to transcend seasonal musical folly, there's nothing 'now' or 'then' about them - you can listen to them any time, anywhere, any weather and still be pretty pleased.

The Birds of Satan is a fun record--it doesn’t aim to top the charts, be name-checked by politicians, or indeed supersede anything that the Foos have ever done.

Really guys? Next time, try a bit harder.

Liquid Cool is at its best and most interesting, though, when Gonzalez’s sound plays with the way our brains and human interactions have been rewired in the modern age, raising the bar by creating impactful moments via osmosis.

As a temporary deviation from Incubus's core sound, If Not Now, When? is satisfactory.

If anything, the stitching on Push/Pull is much too tight, the tone rigid even when things veer off in wildly different directions.

It’s just a little too saggy round the middle.