There's barely a narrative other than posturing. It's not really an album, more a relentless ad campaign.

A record that's provided Bear's Den a new lease of life, allowing them to build on the solid foundations laid as a trio and create something that not only feels like a natural progression, but is also staggeringly pretty in the process.

All told, the lovely but tedious collage work of 1948 isn’t crucial to hear.

What is disappointing about Slash, however, is the fact that it seems getting the names into the studio was where the creative process began and ended. So many of the songs here would simply not make it onto new albums from anyone involved.

It's worth a listen for its high points--but it needs more unity.

Quite the mess all told.

Whatever the case, for Christina Aguilera, the x-factor has gone. The daring single minded focus has apparently been lost.

There's no doubt Rivers is capable of astonishing creative output, supposedly at one time writing 384 songs in the space of three years. But, just because you can write a song every other day it doesn't mean that each one is worthy of being unleashed on the public.

The truth is Tranquillisers has no teeth; being neither truly reprehensible nor in the slightest bit memorable.

There very well may be a human heart beating at the centre of 'Bleed Like Me', but thanks to the walls of effects and static, it's sometimes impossible to hear it.

Tellingly, Mark Ronson loves this album. Truth is, it's fine, and perfectly adequate, but nothing more.

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.

There is plenty of decent stuff going on in the duo's third record, but it still never really takes off into any rarified territory.

The album, while inevitably stuffed with humour as per the MO of any good rap set, is as dark as coffee, especially as it comes to its close.

Man of the Woods is not an outright disaster but it is a significant disappointment--a record too preoccupied with image, volte face and forced “REAL” to fully engage as a coherent piece of craftsmanship.

It's difficult to know where to stand with The Brink. It's vanilla, it's milk in tea, it's lager, it's a morning bowel movement. It just is.

Many demons are slain at the altar of the Reverend in the course this album--wit, eloquence, incisiveness and originality to name but a few.

With the genre oversaturated beyond belief, bands need to produce something special and original to stand out from the crowd. Radio 4 fail to do that.

In the end, Hymns is quite a listless journey.

The vocal strength that he displays elsewhere on the album isn’t there. There is the decided feeling of potential not being realised.

Unlike Robbers and Cowards and Loyalty to Loyalty, the Kids have taken a completely different angle on their music writing, taking a similar road to that of Arcade Fire's The Suburbs by adding a slice of pop to their sound.

In the end, Electronic Earth comes off more as a greatest hits collection than an album proper but that's no bad thing.

This is a somewhat underwhelming effort, once again pushing any idea of recapturing that lost magic even further towards the back of their cabinet of curiosities.

While The Terror of Cosmic Loneliness is not a complete disaster, even the most loyal of fans will find it difficult to love. The end result sounds quickly thrown together and unusually bereft of ideas.

Shame on the person who made this. Shame on the people who release, market and play this. And shame on anyone who buys it.

Despite the so-called grandiose statements of intent such as strings, pianos and soul-trained female backing vocalists, this is simply a case of mutton dressed as lamb and those lambs eventually being slaughtered.

The songwriting is solid but although their overall sonic palate has been shuffled, they remain a band largely focused on doing things with a tried-and-tested format.

There’s flashes of very skilled songwriting, but there’s also the cynical, calculated feel of a record built with a certain commercial targets in mind.