Musically, this is a pleasant record, one that’ll soundtrack many a packed yet ultimately sensible party.

Starboy is fine, it’s grand and it will do, and it really should be so much more.

It's damn smart and it's damn catchy.

Sure it’s trying to mimic something it can never truly be but it’s lovely nonetheless and credit where due will probably be rewarded with more than a few listens.

Everything Infinite is perfect for summer, it has a few beautiful tracks and is constructed masterfully, but you can almost hear the fan chatter describing the outfit as 'that band who sound like Tame Impala'.

x's first third is not without its issues but there is charm, not to mention the feeling that Sheeran really is trying to raise his game. A pity, then, that the remaining 35 minutes is alternatively as generic and simpering as it gets.

Similarities in vocals will mean that Lazy Shins Comparisons are inevitable, but when Rogue Wave break out of the confines of indie-by-association they prove they are a fine band indeed.

Little Comets have some energetic hooks and straight-to-the-point post-punk choruses that would make many of the resident bands in their native North East proud. There just isn't quite enough to get carried away about.

The music goes over old ground, with none of the inspiration found in Finch's material after-...Burn. Then a post-rock-influenced guitar break arrives and they start to gather momentum.

Where the separate parts of the first half didn't gel – the chopping and changing of different styles too much to take in, perhaps, in too short a period--the second part is much easier to handle, and whilst the strong finish isn't enough to stop it falling short of "Z," Evil Urges does find its own place given time.

On the opening ‘Distant Dream’, where a nagging, urgent keyboard line recalls classic Halloween-era Carpenter, until the creepy effect is undermined by some big, thumping power-drums that come off as more dated than retro. Its an ongoing problem across a record that is often enjoyable, but just as often frustrating.

On the whole, Noise Floor is a fascinating concoction of delights that documents the rise of one of underground USA's most prestigious talents.

You get lost in them but not in a good way, and the hypnotic nature of SOHN’s music makes it very easy to phase out, which is a shame, because the closing song, 'Harbour', is a raw and vulnerable gamble that pays off well.

Advaitic Songs shares a lot of the same strengths as the recent output by Earth--every listen unfolds another texture, another line gets embedded in the brain.

A small and totally unpolished gem, sparkling and anti-lapidary.

The man wants so much to create a ‘70s-apeing epic, but fails. Yet that's not to say this is a bad record per se, it's just that Knapp's whole Son, Ambulance project has a good few obvious clangers dragging it down.

This is not a record of ballads for emo fans.... This album is a collection of proper songs.

Some of the ramshackle charm that pervaded their Christmas record is missing here too--the major label money and the massive orchestra having presumably buffed the edges, which feels a shame. Still, all in, it’s a hard heart that dismisses a solid record of wonderful songs done well.

Heady swirl, indeed: much of Come Into My House unfolds with all the knacker-shrivelling underwhelmingness of a tepid bath.

This album suggests that there’s gas in the tank yet, especially when such pondering is matched to the spiky, inventive instrumentation on display.

Their most restrained and finely detailed record to date.

So they missed the bullseye. But that's no reason to yell "sell out!", or to deride them as poseurs.

It's always impressive when the ballads on an album neither slow down its pace nor detract from the rest of the album. It's a true testament to how well-rounded this album really is.

Genius, as you know, is all about the detail. The backing vocal on 'Revolving Doors' – if you're still struggling with the 'song' thing, this and 'Amarillo' offer consolation in the form of two of Albarn's loveliest unfinished melodies.

While there are moments that have the summer days – and daze – of ’99 flooding back, too much of this sixth long-player proper sounds disjointed and manhandled.

With such an unbending focus on intellectual ideals, Asiatisch is as erudite and wildly impenetrable as its maker.

While The Enemy Chorus may not launch itself into the night sky and explode like the great big sonic firework it wants be, there are enough bangs on display here to warrant taking it out for the occasional stroll.

Telling Tales gladly succumbs to its own whimsy, has no stylistic compass beyond the inherent tones of a female vocal harmony group and is a delightful series of songs that are both beautiful and bizarre.