It's not a massive progression from their debut, and it appears that as the rest of the world has finally caught up with them, the duo from space appear to be having problems going forward.

Rules may not be the shape of what’s to come, but there’s also little offence to be found in its unobtrusive ways.

For a band with such a legacy, and a pre-millennium back catalogue to die for, this record feels hollow and uninspiring.

No Pier Pressure shows just what too many cooks can do to a Beach Boy's broth.

Gone is the rawness of his debut and the innovation of its two follow ups. More worryingly, he’s missing the emotion that made those records so potent.

So far, Sov’s done well for playing to her strengths, but it’s too short an album for filler, and a song about being unable to play the guitar is pointless, however melodic and Northern Soul the cello-part happens to be.

Live on I-5 is still a good, if slightly misjudged and mistimed, effort and, regardless of criticism, Soundgarden finally have a live album to their name, even if it doesn't capture the band at their peak.

On Splitting The Atom, though, the duo simply sound like they’ve run out of ideas, unsurprising given the opening half’s attempts to re-visit an album over 18 years old.

The bulk of the problems lies with the performance itself, and the material chosen.

In general, the choruses are forgettable, the guitars are woefully exaggerated, and the quirkiness that made Weezer a band to be cherished now seems forced and stale.

This album is just that – an album in the truest sense, a collection of songs that work together as a whole and one that doesn’t rely on a strong single or two to make it work.

Electra Heart is a reasonably fun listen, and even if it falls short of its stratospheric ambition, still has more to say than many of Marina's contemporaries.

No doubt delightful for existing Rundgren fans, you deserve a medal if, as an uninitiated listener, you make it out of Global feeling inspired like never before.

The descriptive we’re looking for here is ‘shallow pastiche.’

As with so many albums in the contemporary indie-electronica world, there is a decent one simmering somewhere inside of EVINSPACEY (this sentence makes me curse the existence of cease-and-desist orders).

Will this please die hard fans? It surely will, being filled with the signature Don Broco charm and sound, but shows elements of growth and diversity--as a third album should. The year is off to a good start for them.

To the casual ear, this could be any of their other albums. But with such a consistent sound, it becomes harder for individual songs to stand out.

Musically, the song structures are as bog-standard as Britpop, the lyrics constantly teeter on the edge of nonsense, while the lack of any real change in style save for rotating the guy on vocals means the tracks continue to merge into one another even after a few listens.

Sadly, the quality of song writing and accompanying musicianship--i.e., everyone except 'arry--is mediocre at best.

An attempt to relive the RATM era that falls far, far short of the bar. Save your money and go and listen to the real deal instead.

It sounds like The Zutons trying to record one of their more out-there b-sides having just lost the ability to play music.

Subtract the saccharine throwback 'Static Space Lover', the utterly somnambulant closer 'III', and the ancient prom scrap 'Time To Get Closer', and you’re left with some solid pop bangers that can sync in time with yr racing heart.

Where the two remaining musicians in the band appear to have gone astray, Michael Stipe sounds positively lost, never to be found again.

This isn't a character assassination (honest), more an explanation why an album that's actually pretty accomplished, musically, should, in the end, prove so forgettable. Even though guitarist Robbie Stern's classical training has been put to good use with some of these arrangements, all too rarely are other band members allowed to shine.

It's a shame The New Classic can sound so heavily manufactured, if anything because interesting things happen from time to time.

These Are The Good Times People is a mere shadow of its ‘90s counterpart that struggles to retain any of the President’s early charm.

A remarkable turnaround then, and although not quite a 360 degree shift, this is a damn fine record that Feeder should be proud of.

It goes without saying that they still possess a die-hard dedication for that certain herb, and if you don’t smoke the reefer you shouldn’t go anywhere near this record; it will leave you colder than Cheech and Chong’s Arctic Adventure