Instead of building on what went before, or providing clues as to a future direction, Sakura sounds like a collection of B-sides--and forgettable ones at that.

Ultimately, while the record will prove to be an enjoyable distraction for ardent fans, it’s hard to shake the feeling that these revamps might have been better saved for the live setting.

This an attention-grabbing debut album from a unique and fascinating talent, who has more than demonstrated her validity and potential as a solo artist.

Clocking in at just under an hour, its occasionally harrowing contents rendering it an uneasy listen, maybe if BRMC had taken a leaner approach Specter... may have ended up on a few more commercial radars.

It’s not enough to make an album that blends inoffensively into the background. Psychedelia is supposed to be mind-bending, not just some minor flavouring to add to your very average indie-pop songs.

The album serves as a classic case of frontloading and one gets a sense that the first six songs would have made a better standalone EP, buying the band yet more time to craft something a little more interesting.

Instead of making a One Direction farewell album, they made a Take That comeback album.

Let It Be You is a real return to form for Wasser, and one for which Davis is due ample credit; when the two hit their stride they’re undeniable, making more material from the two a tantalising prospect.

Make your way past the defensive drone it puts up and you will be rewarded with warm, welcoming fuzz.

Talk About Body is so ridiculously accessible musically, that audiences dancing along to MEN's absurdly addictive pop songs are likely to be blindsided if they ever listen carefully to the lyrics.

It's popcorn music, and there's absolutely nothing wrong with that. But trying to dress it up in big concepts only belies the belief that it's somehow lacking, which leads to its undoing.

A collection of songs and 'works', the latter of which clutter the end of the record with a mess of somewhat ill composed 'classical' pieces, Mind Trap largely acts as a collection of initial ideas, with no songs feeling overly finished.

If emotional depth is what you’re after, these eight tracks are never likely to be your bag. But, if you can take Bigfoot for the sun-blushed, sweet-natured collection of songs that it is, then this could be the soundtrack to your summer.

The rest of the record is suddenly and gracefully, if somewhat confusingly, scooped up in the slightly irksome breezes of troubadour lo-fi, though considering the chops of that opening brace it's hardly a deal breaker.

With S+@dium Rock, Titus Andronicus have managed to create a live record that says everything and nothing at the same time.

Even when downcast, Love & Devotion is a sensual, lively record and anyone mourning the death of Air France should find much to enjoy here.

<i>An End Has a Start</i> actually sounds like it was crafted as ten quite individual chapters of a long-running saga; surprisingly, though, it ultimately works better than its predecessor as a cohesive, flowing album.

The album is largely stuck analysing lost feelings and past regrets, when it would have been much more entertaining if it focussed on living for the moment.

Crystal Antlers have delivered a record that, rather than making good on the promise of their early work, is simply serviceable. But there's evidence here of a band still finding their feet and defining their sound.

It screams often, confused, like the mess that it is.

Dark Young Hearts shines with talent, pop tunes with those secret corners you think were put there just for you to spot. Lyrical flaws aside, it's an indelible mark of grandeur on our decaying decade.

What it will do is fill your ears, mind and spirit with a little shaft of sunlight that causes you to delight in the moment and experience.

While moments of greatness emerge, there's a unfortunate limpness to proceedings that undermines otherwise outstanding songwriting.

Alas, The Temple of I & I, does not hit the high benchmarks of prior quality. Very much a Thievery album in its own right, with the tropical rhythms alongside the DC-based musicians approach to studio-dub, the LP falls short of the classic peak moments of the past.

Much like Sonic Youth's feature-length instrumental masterstrokes Made In USA and Spinhead Sessions, Improvisations is a record that will likely reward the attentive mind most.

One big loud glam rock electro-pop explosion of an album.

This stylized despair erases everything that made Holy Motors special. Without the casual surrealism (like sentient skeletons) or gaffs about touchy stuff like tampons, the reboot plays out with the predictable pallor of most “edgy” primetime cable shows.

At times they near the hybrid jazz of The Mars Volta or even the plentiful jam bands that can be found on the boulevards of certain Eastern European shores, but Tortoise's effortless ingenuity and Prince Billy's sensuous and aged voice raise it to a much higher plane.