The production is on point and the rhyme patterns are above average, but there's a distinct lack of cohesion.

While the band's earlier material sounded lo-fi out of necessity, Underneath the Rainbow disappoints due to its inauthentic attempt at sounding like an album recorded long before its time.

"Big Bank" and "Today" are two of a handful of songs plagued by lazy flows and bars, the former rife with braggadocio duds like "I be on that Little Caesar's shit, hot and ready." Still, Black's raw pen game and unabashed authenticity show promise; he just needs to heed his own words.

It's all good, but none of it is great. Still, if this is merely the first taste of an eventual vault series of releases from Townes Van Zandt's musical archive, it's more than enough to make us hunger for more.

This sophomore effort builds off her debut, but loses the plot in a mass of electronic blackness and vague grievances.

They would have been wiser to trim more of the fat from the 12-track, two disc affair. In comparison to Death Magnetic's thrash-first approach, Hardwired features more mid-tempo material reminiscent of the band's divisive Load/Reload years, which bogs down the record's second disc in particular.

Diarrhea Planet's self-indulgence and cheesy grandiosity might be less appealing if it wasn't so tongue-in-cheek--that's a huge advantage of being a band that doesn't take itself all that seriously. It also makes Turn to Gold a boisterous and joyful affair. But reaching these new levels of gaudiness, they risk being written off as a gimmick

The band has framed Get Hurt as a shift in its Springsteen-meets-Replacements sound, but they're overselling things a tad: only a couple of songs, like the title track, truly feel all that different from their last couple of records.

Analog Fluids of Sonic Black Holes does not always work, but in the moments where it does, it is bound to sit in your stomach for a long time.

Taken as a bit of a lark, Skye's I<3UQTINVU exists as a bag of mostly disposable — but exciting! — what ifs. Without the grounded warmth of Ellery's songwriting, the album has the perhaps unintended effect of sending us back to the originals to appreciate the duo's more controlled creative alchemy.

Overall, this is an album that blends choral and electronic to create something that amounts to little more than unobtrusive background music. It lacks both the cultural depth of world music and the dynamic disco beats of their earlier offerings.

Big Box of Chocolates, like its name suggests, can favour quantity over quality and a mix of good and not so good, but if you take it as it is--an easy-going record made by '70s rock enthusiasts--it packs enough good vibes to keep you listening.

Richard remains a testament to boundary-pushing, genre bending and expectation-shattering art, though Second Line's tempered grandiosity ultimately leaves her ambition underserved.

The songs, although well assembled, lack the edge that the band is known for, which could be hazardous.

The drums are unquestionably positioned as the star and as a result, Harmonic feels much more like a jam session crossed with a vanity project than a genuine album.

DROGAS Light isn't quite memorable, but Lupe's talent shines enough to save it from total obscurity. Not a bad effort, though.

It's more fun than 2010's Darkly, Darkly, Venus Aversa, but with a slightly less lurid and lingering "oomph" than classic Cradle of Filth.

As convincing as Liam Gallagher is when he audaciously boasts that he's "got the Midas touch" early on in the album, As You Were doesn't ever quite turn to gold.

In some ways, it feels like a more subdued, mostly instrumental version of Mess, one where they cycle through moods and shift textures but rarely heighten them beyond their initial parameters. Still: setting mood has always been one of Liars' strengths, even if 1/1 feels more like a curio than an essential part of the canon.

Ab-Soul is more successful when he mines his own sorrow.

Rather than offering a bold new step in Reznor's long, winding career, Not the Actual Events feels more like tentative first steps towards something bigger.

The vocal delivery throughout (care of guitarist Woody Weatherman and bassist Mike Dean) is pretty weak, especially compared to Pepper's attention-commanding style, and that, combined with a somewhat jarring mix of fast punk, smothering, Sabbath-ian metal and good-ol'-boy Southern rock, just whets the appetite for the return of Pepper and the big rock.

It may take Butler a few more albums (he has promised in interviews to continue writing and recording as a solo artist for years to come) to carve out his own identity from the monolithic entity he's a part of, but there are plenty of plausible ideas on Policy for Butler to continue exploring.

CLB is a serviceable enough Drake album, but he has a number of prior projects that showcase his dynamic rap abilities and frenemy quarrels at a much higher calibre.

Unsurprisingly, the tracks that feature Redway's voice chopped and sampled and without straight lyrics, "Beseech" and "Extract," are the most satisfying ones on the album. These two tracks point to the duo's real potential.

Drank is an interesting take for fans to indulge in, but not an album you're likely to take any inspiration from, given its lack of real exploration.

For Professional Use Only's long run time and failure to effectively sequence and transition between instrumentals for a more cohesive experience hamper its impact on the casual listener.

Ultimately, beatmaker Tommy "TBHits" Brown outshines the veterans, co-producing two of the record's more engaging tracks--"Better Off" and "Goodnight n Go"--which are inexplicably relegated to the end of the record. Those songs manage to accomplish what the rest of the album attempts: bringing a new fire to pop-R&B's familiar formulas.