While Ma Fleur is no better than The Cinematic Orchestra’s previous scores, it is equally gorgeous in how it responds to and ekes out intellectual quagmires of song.

Mercifully, this album shouldn’t even be a footnote – it’s no nadir, for sure, but it sure isn’t any good.

Our advice, then: pick and choose via online outlets to get the best out of this album, as in this instance Dizzee’s mathematical skills have failed to calculate a formula for another must-buy release.

Asa Breed feels too lightweight to recommend without caution.

Excellent Italian Greyhound is everything you’d want from a new Shellac record - terrific-sounding, expertly performed and gleefully atonal as ever, but it’s live that this legendary three-piece’s performance art really comes to life as more than the sum of its casually-displayed parts.

It is the subtle orchestral aspect to the record that stands out, with the same washed arrangements that Grizzly Bear and close cohorts Clogs manage to incorporate so casually.

Whereas before in their career the four-piece seemingly tossed myriad elements about with little to no regard for the actual acceptability of the composition at hand, here each and every piece – pieces that truly do flow into one another quite magically – sinks into the listener’s synapses silkily, short-circuiting them through disbelief rather than a simmering intolerance.

Plague Park possesses an unsightly surface layer of cluttered sound and alien screeches that require swift penetrating to enjoy the sticky gooiness that resides within.

Five Roses is certainly not a poor album--it's largely enjoyable, in fact--but it fails to inspire awe or create any sense of joy. It’s too slight, and too meandering

After eleven songs, the band’s inability to stretch their sound starts to take its toll.

By no means is this a bad album, it is just one that in the modern day holds little relevance and offers nothing significant.

The Beatific Visions is one of the most enthralling, deceiving and delightful albums of recent times.

Doesn't quite have the same impact as their debut.

Initial listens leave the impression that Volta is a top-heavy release, but as with Vespertine repeat visitations see the record smoothing and flattening out, with consistency becoming apparent over a shorter period of time than with many a Bjork LP before it.

It’s a little bit adventurous, capable of surprising sidesteps, but remains safely at home in Electrelane’s own engagingly individual aesthetic.

It doesn't really matter how this record sits in comparison to the last few; it's gorgeous.

Mice Parade have never before been quite this accessible.

As fan-boy pleasing as this is, and as great as some of the songs are, it still feels a little like sneaking a peek at a director’s first draft, or rummaging through a scribbly, discarded diary.

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

Human The Death Dance is a little too boastful, a little too obvious; the subtleties that made Francis’ previous offering so enjoyable and provided it with plenty of longevity have dissipated somewhat.

The ten songs which make up Everything Last Winter drift along without saying anything at all.

Send Away The Tigers is the bloated swansong from a band that should have called it quits three albums ago.

It’s easy to overlook a few fizzles in an album stuffed with fireworks.

Baby 81 is simply BRMC doing what they do best, and for the first time since their debut record six years ago they actually sound like a band that enjoyed themselves while making this album.

Essentially the real joy is to hear the three original members locking in so tightly together.

Enough variety is here, and it all fits together as beautifully as Let It Die did.

Though inconsistent, this record is remarkably accomplished and immediate.

Think of Sensuous as like walking round a modern art museum: sometimes difficult to fathom, always a perverse thrill.