Evans tries to preserve authenticity by enlisting producers like Chucky Thompson, Stevie J and DJ Premier (who all worked with Biggie in life). It's an understandable move, but the album's production is simply too dated to resonate.

Immaculately produced and performed, it's hard to imagine Man of the Woods not being a hit, its tracks a steady stream for playlist fodder. But sound and feel are no substitute for soul.

While the second half of the album almost makes up for its flaws, it doesn't quite manage to make Compassion a memorable whole.

Fandango tries to revel in its excess and overreaches far too often to be considered a success.

The mixed bag nature of Don't Be Scared that is its downfall: a lack of consistency leads to the album sounding more like a DJ set than a cohesive record.

As a riff rock mood board, most of the album passes by nicely enough, with the occasional embarrassing lyric (the aforementioned refrain in "Must've Always Been a Thing," repetitions of "Ring dong / Ring-a-ding dong" on opener "The Dooms Day Bells") being the only moments that are actively unpleasant to listen to.

At its best, the album retreads familiar ground.

There's no question that The Stand-In is a step-up from her previous effort; her delivery and songwriting show a confidence that previously lacking. However, The Stand-In is no stand out.

What this trio from Philadelphia, PA are offering, in spite of their rough-hewn hipster image, is nothing new and can be traced back to Barenaked Ladies through Simon & Garfunkel, Crosby, Stills & Nash and even the Kingston Trio.

"I'll Fight for Your Life" makes up for its unremarkable melodies with a percussive synth pulse, while the charming "Head of the Horse" is a curveball ballad from a project that has always been better known for upbeat pop tunes. Beyond that, however, this album is a 50-minute slog.

There's no doubt that, technically speaking, Swollen Members are better now than they've ever been, but a decade-and-a-half in, they need to find new material.

Standout tracks "Chlorine" and "Round" start the album off strong, but the downside is that the rest of the album feels drawn out, with more valleys than peaks. If you're not actively listening to each track, it can feel like the album is a long interlude that fades into the background.

On the whole, the album suffers from a bout of dullness, with the majority of tracks mingling in a grey area, struggling to push through their apparent amalgamation and stand on their own.

Sleepwalkers has some very good songs, but often comes off as cheesy and predictable--if a melody sounds familiar, it's probably because Fallon has sung one just like it before.

From start to finish, the album is a mix of complete swamp-rock songs, only to be broken up by confusing, short bursts of instrumentation.

You can't fault µ-ZIQ for branching out of the staid EDM clichés that oversaturate the electronic music landscape, but unfortunately, Chewing Corners is a little too disorganised.

Much of what set WU LYF apart from other UK pop-rockers has been dulled to match their ambitions and ages. It's maximalist minimalism (or is that minimalist maximalism?) at its most heartfelt and bland, similar to other heartsick stadium "rockers" like Coldplay and Imagine Dragons.

WALLS sounds safe and comfortable. The songs coast along with a mellow fluidity that serves to establish a decidedly mature, if complacent, sound.

It's an interesting concept for an album, but it falls a bit flat.

Moments of souled-out bliss are only temporary, pushed aside by jarring, more aggressive fare reportedly stemming from his interest in the music of Death Grips.... These louder tracks are done no favours by the process by which they were engineered: compressed and distorted in a fashion that leaves Tyler's vocals largely inaudible.

It isn't inherently bad, but it isn't great either.

Over ten tracks and 40 minutes, Post Tropical never picks up any steam, never comes to life. Mere gorgeousness is, it turns out, not quite enough to sustain a record.

The charm of the disconnected, breezy path that starts the album--seeming interludes punctuated by the odd story of a more solid, structured track--quickly wears thin when you realize said path meanders, the tracks mostly underdeveloped, only occasionally rolling into a bigger sound with tangible depth.

Beyond the overt gimmickry of the singles "Concrete" and "BLOODMONEY" (the latter sounds like she went rooting through Skrillex's trash), I Disagree is often surprisingly unchaotic.

It's a lack of originality that turns the sound stale rather quickly.

Walker is an exceptional blues artist at a time when there are few left, but on Hellfire, despite its volume, he comes off as frustratingly average.

Head Carrier sounds far more restrained and lifeless than it should be.

Wrangled lacks ambition.