While World Wide Rebel Songs exudes confidence, its execution is like attempting to cross too many "T"s with your eyes closed: odds are that you'll get one or two right, but it's impossible to consistently hit the mark.

Birthmarks is probably the most impressive Born Ruffians record to date, but it’s a shame they travelled so far without straying from the middle of the road.

ARTPOP is a decidedly patchy ‘Just Dance’-less disappointment.

With Dynamics, Holy Ghost! have struck a careful balance between revisiting their mid-Noughties origins and playing with new ideas within a similar arena.

That Keith is capable of better records is a point proven by his past, but so far as 2006-born hip-hop goes, this is head and shoulders above much of the loudmouthed, uncouth and generic rabble.

Somewhere under all this reverb and murk, Gauntlet Hair may yet have the makings of a fine band, but the album burns out long before they have an opportunity to reveal wether this is true.

Distinctive in style and sound, particularly Hecksher's drawling vocal and JC Rees expedient guitar surges, it's a record that pulls no punches in execution or delivery while conveying some of the most heartfelt lyrics Hecksher has ever penned.

My problem is that AIH don't really give much away. There isn't any real personality on show. It could be any musicians.

A.M. buzzes and drones, floats and wafts. It’s cloudy skies and open roads. It’s hypnotic and swirly, it’s warm and cosy. It’s static eyeballs and minimal movement. It’s spellbindingly gorgeous.

Despite some fine moments, on the whole there's not enough that's memorable or above average. No one would give Keane a second glance if Tom Chaplin did not possess such a gift of a voice.

Every song is predictable, workman-like, lacking invention.

2 of 2, then, is an incredibly frustrating experience.

Though it has its moments Blue Record is by no means a success, but it offers enough to suggest that with a bit of fine tuning Unknown Mortal Orchestra might eventually get a bit good at the old acoustic guitar game.

He’s Got the Whole This Land Is Your Land in His Hands is by no stretch of the imagination the most disagreeable Joan of Arc record to date, or the most impenetrable, either; some of the soundscapes here are pleasingly smooth given how scattershot Kinsella’s approach so often is.

All songs are played relatively straight--nary a jingle bell in earshot--which is a good choice, as it offsets the devotional aspects of more traditional carols like ‘O Come All Ye Faithful’ and ‘Angels We Have Heard On High’.

What Shobaleader One does is strike a finer balance between the accessible and the surreal than pretty much all of Jenkinson's previous releases. It retains all the elements that are recognisably Squarepusher but manages to filter them through this newly polished lens and thrusts it into a new, invigorating stream of light.

Nothing, not even their own past as a middling indie-pop crossover act, is sacred, and it’s sad to see The Kooks attempt to conjure past glories and fall flat.

It's a bold, brash, varied, slightly confused dance record with flashes of hip-hop.

It’ll no doubt be lapped up by impressionable 14 year old girls the world over, but for a show that has so much more to offer this just smacks of studio exec. cash-in.

It’s not a complete lack of experimental ventures, but a limited volume. Regardless, this latest version of the band has clearly found a style that works, and the album definitely exhibits a bold direction, even if the average STP fan would naturally like to see a higher volume of daring moments.

It requires TLC, and some listeners–-and I count myself among them–-are just too heavy-handed to stay in its company long.

Sixes & Sevens might be a drawn-out mess, but break it down to its constituent parts and you suddenly have rich pickings for the perfect mix-tape.

There's nothing on 'Folklore' that comes anywhere near the catchiness of anything off her debut.

Pink Friday: Roman's Revenge isn't bad because of Minaj's cross-dressing it is bad because she often tries on some very banal, characterless outfits.

There are no bad songs on Inner Classics,, no painful moments, no dodgy production or misjudged directions. But there's not much else either.

There’s a huge range of styles on display, but Innocents remains a remarkably cohesive and creative record, thanks both to Moby’s instrumentation and to the album’s conceptual feel.

As the sound of a band still in development mode and not quite sure of their identity, Future This offers a lucid insight into where their next sonic adventure may take them.

The main problem with No Hope, No Future, though, is that very little here stands out above the accepted and expected norm. At times, there's a feeling Good Shoes have almost resigned themselves to a destined state of mediocrity.