Many Moons then, proves that the 'bad front-man solo project' curse isn’t particularly watertight. En-debut, Martin Courtney comes through with a record that’s as good as any he’s made with his band.

Genuinely, it’s the lyrics that are stopping Little Red from being properly brilliant.

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.

With that image and, indeed, package, May will no doubt divide opinion and make certain people sick of him just by his very look and reflective genre, but to anyone with time to spend and ears to analyse he will be a speccy hero; a champion of triumphant performance irrespective of that well-practised image.

Die-hard fans of Civilian may be wary but after a few listens, this will sit proudly alongside some of the band's best work.

If you were hankering for a return to their garage-rock roots, then Turn Blue is going to disappoint; however, if you’ve liked where the band have gone since Dangermouse came on board, you’ll find plenty to appreciate here.

Their collective relentless energy combined with their individual talents saves their sound from feeling repetitive.

The album continues in typically strange style. However, despite the lack of musical progression, for some reason Screen Memories sounds, whisper it, on trend.

Although he makes Hello Skinny as unique-sounding as he can, Skinner also keeps it listenable, his hybrid sounds coming across as warm rather than overpowering.

It’s a mature, accomplished and surprisingly diverse collection of songs, but life-changing it ain’t.

The Hawk Is Howling may not induce the apprehensive anxiety of "Happy Songs For Happy People" or even match the apocalyptic ambience of "Rock Action," but when taken in isolation, even outside of the Mogwai name, it holds its own as Mogwai's first solely instrumental album

There’s definitely still some fine moments in what follows ["Little Love Caster" and "Devil's Resting Place"]--there’s certainly plenty more of everything in a record that stretches towards the hour mark-- but it never quite reaches those early heights again, which are possibly as high as Marling has reached in her career thus far.

Overall, Encore is a worthwhile listen. It obviously suffers from many of the problems that dance music albums generally suffer from but it does well to show off Snake's ear for hooks just as well as his ear for drops.

A melodic and lyrical versatility runs strongly but the atmosphere created around the words is beyond a mere accompaniment.

None of the live tracks which also appeared across various formats of This Is My Truth...'s singles are included, which is a shame as there was no better live band anywhere on the planet at this point. Nevertheless, this is a rewarding compendium if only as a means of re-evaluating an album that was promptly dismissed by some, yet when all's said and done, in many ways years ahead of its time.

Her abstract notion seems to unfold halfway through opener ‘Spells’, as she starts engaging in a form of scat singing, amid wispy solos and a dreamy chorus.

Pierce and company might never release anything as tight and high caliber as their debut album, but they are heading in a new direction while still remaining staunch pioneers of the heavy synths and reverb style that warranted them attention in the first place.

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.

The overall effect is like a lighter, more self-conscious, throwaway, altogether 2011 take on David Bowie's Low, a collision of popstar and avant-production that is all the more interesting for not quite knowing where it is.

While the rest of the album does falter a little towards the end, as a piece of work overall it's one that they should rightfully be proud of.

What makes the record a success is the way Pinkunoizu harness their varied ideas and refine them into something accessible and engaging.

Part pep rally, part school-time innocence, In Case We Die is nothing if not full of life and enthusiasm.

Once, this band were making music to stare skywards to, to contemplate the vastness of the universe we’re such a tiny part of; now they’ve discovered a hidden reserve of human spirit, sucked it in and produced a record that will reconnect their wealth of talents to listeners fearing they’d forgotten how they’d ever reached such a lofty pedestal. It’s great to have them back.

It’s a flawed album that’s at times unbelievable, at times unbelievably bad but for those interested in investigating the moment Elton John became the legend he sought to be this is a thorough and generous offering.

What really let’s this collection down is not the quality of the songs – everything about their tunes is well considered and slickly executed – but the production.

Far from the bold reinvention initially promised, its restless energy masks over most missteps.

While not entirely unique, both [Mirrors and Second Encounter] provide a distinguished finale to Of Desire and one which suggests The KVB's finest hour might be just around the corner.

Despite the occasionally more personal tone to Tooth & Nail, he continues his role as social commentator magnificently.