With a little more pace and drama to offset this off-whitest of visions, El Perro Del Mar could be an interesting prospect indeed.

Maybe !!!’s latest effort isn’t revolutionary, but it is rebellious.

Some real quality lies within, but it’s difficult to lose yourself entirely when you know you can’t trust it not to wander off down the wrong path.

In the end, Vessels comes across as a promising guitar-driven breath of fresh air trapped in a box of squeaky-clean studio tricks; what was hopeful is now hopeless, and what seemed like an exciting rock revival is simply a wolf in sheep’s clothing.

While sometimes The Final Frontier seems to mine the Maiden groove until the canary chirps its last, the better songs are an indication that they aren't yet trading solely on their reputation.

Little is embellished, musically or lyrically, and the no-frills approach can sometimes work in a band's favour. But this workmanlike trawl through suburban life won’t set your world on fire.

They’ve lost a little bit of the magic of their debut. The lyrics feel a tiny bit less wistful, while the bass is a little less heavy--that strange but heady mix from the likes of ‘Hey Mami’ just isn’t jumping out from any of the tracks on What Now.

While it's hard to critique The Vision for its scattershot successes, as a whole the album is just too erratic to have any sort of lasting impact on formerly ardent fans or casual admirers.

Even after having listened to this album many times, it seems no clearer as to whether it is a collection of underdeveloped song ideas or the well produced outakes of an intriguing idea.

With the best of the bunch already out there, the rest simply feels disposable by comparison. You can't help feeling Is Tropical may have made a mistake by playing their aces too early. Lucky they've got that video then.

These aren’t drastic alterations to the standard Sia formula, but what you do get is an album with a very specific identity.

Ruins is a thoroughly pretty piece of work, lovingly presented. The question hanging over it, though, is how long First Aid Kit can get away with making revisions to the original model before the law of diminishing returns begins to kick in hard.

This is Acting has some good tracks on it and is obviously written by a very talented songwriter, it’s just not an album that demands excitement from its listeners.

Contrary to popular belief, there is a great album waiting to be unleashed from the Brooklyn trio in the not-too-distant future. They just haven't given themselves time to make it yet.

While there's plenty to admire from a distance here, those who get in close will find little to cling onto.

All in all though, Radio Wars is disappointingly average; pleasant but fairly forgettable, and in contrast to its misleading title, should really have been named Radio Friendly instead.

Purists will lap this up, but ultimately, as lovingly constructed a tribute as this is, there’s an unavoidable sense that Clapton is preaching exclusively to the choir.

An ultimately frustrating listen, not because of the quality of Ring per se, but because of the undoubted class of record it could have been if only it were a little more thought through. Still, there's certainly enough potential to justify Glasser's rising reputation as a worthy heir to a certain Icelandic lady's throne.

Tthis is a solid, soulful effort from a performer plagued by so many issues; it’s just a shame that taking the emotions out of the mix, what we’re left with is essentially easy-listening.

Musically, at least, Kings of Leon have matured during their two years on the road and, if you ignore some of the less than elegant lyrics, they have produced an acceptable second album.

Drake is far too talented to turn in an album of dregs, and a lot of the content featured of Views is of the same breed of quality we would expect, like the instantly contagious 'Grammys', featuring Future. But for him to be so often contented with merely satisfactory results is somehow much more disappointing than a total failure.

A little too homogenous to warrant many a repeat listen.

At times, it is derivative, channelling everyone from Passion Pit to Bowie himself, but it subverts both those acts by being excruciatingly personal and that is where Milagres' real strength lies.

Parts of ...Cheap Seats feel either disposable or a revisiting of old ground.

If Paris, Texas concerns itself with flat desert landscapes then Amplifying Host makes the sea its home, with a too-steady rhythm always threatening to halt the potential for a clear reflection on the infinite horizon.

Nothing's third album is something of a safe bet: fans of the band and/or genre will still enjoy this, while Agnello's name being attached may turn a few extra heads, but it is feasible that the whole 'nu-shoegaze' movement is running out of steam.

You’ll probably like this album if you’re a metal fan. But don’t expect it to enlighten you.

Smaldone’s rattling, tumbling, ragtime ballads are engaging rather than just pretty; plus, the narratives are consistently well-realized, albeit that the interpretations are largely closed.