You Wish contains some exciting flashpoints, but it's also missing that prolonged sense of potency to draw you in further. .... Nevertheless, you can only applaud them for leaping out of the safety net of Doom Loop into a whole new world.

Megadeth (the album) is the perfect encapsulation of how Megadeth (the band) have lived: bold, frequently brilliant but occasionally flawed.

The only letdown is a cover of Dead Or Alive’s YOU SPIN ME ROUND (Like A Record), where for all of Thomas’ squalling riff work, it’s obviously just there as padding as it doesn’t quite fit in, and Franz Ferdinand’s Alex Kapranos performs as if it’s mere karaoke. Other than that, Thomas has masterminded a very solid collection of songs and though they’re not stretching rock ‘n’ roll to entirely new dimensions, they offer a tantalising glimpse into who this man is when he’s not a cog in a bigger machine.

Consistently, Watch It Die is easy listening. That’s a compliment, given the way that gnarly guitar lines and shouted vocals can intertwine with synth lines you’d expect from The Killers, such as the motoring thump of Between The Waves. It’s also a critique on the simplicity of some melodies.

Taking artistic plunges in areas outside garage punk is not for them, but this fifth album is nevertheless a solid half hour of what the Kentucky outfit do best.

There are some lulls, mind. Sometimes the moodiness threatens to drown the melody, and not every track earns its philosophical baggage. .... But Learning Greek is never boring. It's chaotic, clever, and just unhinged enough to charm the eyeliner off your face.

At its best, I Beat Loneliness is revelatory. Elsewhere, sadly, it’s rote. Gavin may claim to have beaten loneliness, but he’s been thwarted by his own ambitions.

We’re left with something that isn’t Volbeat’s best album, but is a candidate for their most interesting.

While not quite the box of delights Garbage shook at us last time, there’s persistent allure in the mating of cavernous soundscapes with Shirley’s penetratingly icy vocals.

Written on the road – between hotels and practice rooms across continents – the sense of freewheeling momentum is undoubtedly UNATØNED’s greatest strength, capturing the roadworn charisma and runaway force of the Machine Head 2025 live show. But with it comes a jettisoning of the tonal consistency and sprawling songcraft that defines their finest recorded work.

Perhaps mastering a sense of duality is what Rico Nasty is gunning for – harsh and soft, or trap and rock. At the same time, there’s not quite enough sense of focus to suggest that’s the case. Should she find that, or find a way to blur all these sounds into something cohesive and singular, she could be unstoppable.

It’s not an easy listen, in both an emotional and sonic sense. But, as an individual experience, it’s hard to ignore the boldness with which Hayden realises her vision, and the terrifying impact that such unfiltered, uncomfortable ambience can hold.

An album which initially goes in hard on horrorcore lyrics, before broadening out into social reportage and geo-political comment. Along the way, there are guests galore and one piece quite unlike anything else the band have put their name to.

Opeth have broken new ground, entered fresh realms both oppressive and melodic – but their rapier-like determination to be different may be too much for some.

There are a couple of marvellous moments – namely the shapeshifting Mezzanine and the agonising regret of Finalist – but often Spiral In A Straight Line settles into itself too much.

True, it’s also an often familiar-sounding form – that same chord progression at varying speeds, faster than Bad Religion, slower than NOFX – but they also sound like themselves again.

Sløtface’s third album leaves the feeling of a musical outfit undergoing a bit of a rebirth, but one that’s brimming with promise. Don’t bet against Haley making this new incarnation of Sløtface even better as they continue to find their sound.

It's a record as sweet as 20 pumpkin spice lattes, with Gravity ('She keeps pulling me like gravity, everywhere she goes') and Perfume ('I wanna make you my girl / I wanna make you my world') sticking out as notable offenders, while the equally syrupy Kiss Me Again is also a little boilerplate. That said, it’s all rather endearing, especially for those who relate enough to the sentiment to be swept up by it.

It’s not, in fact, an exaggeration to say that there are moments on this album that almost replicate the visceral intensity of vomiting. Partly that’s due to Michael’s guttural growls, a voice that rattles and chokes on itself as it exits his mouth. Around it, though, is a brutally cacophonous swirl of sound that, especially on the title-track, is harrowing and – oddly, paradoxically, confusingly – comforting.

A record that contains a number of inspiring moments, but, on the whole, Another Day doesn't quite assert itself in the context of their back catalogue.

Irreverence and wilful expendability means quality control goes out the window. Denzel’s titular mischievousness and biting charisma can do a lot of heavy lifting, but with everyone from TiaCorine and A$AP Ferg (HOT ONE) to Ty Dolla $ign and Juicy J (COLE PIMP) piling in, it’s a turbulent flow. Fortunately, flashes of genius keep shining through.

Unquestionably the most proggy proposition on the album, this tune [L’Enfant De La Lune] shifts through different passages like a receptacle for all the musical touches Alcest have at their disposal. As such, it’s part of a listening experience which often feels like something of a journey, and if the specific destination is ambiguous, the direction is very much into the light.

Nonetheless, even if the follow-up to 2022’s Garageband Superstar isn’t wildly innovative, there’s a smorgasbord of catchy tunes fizzing with sugary energy.

Despite only clocking in at 42 minutes it feels like it drags on for ages. And the copious use of samples to remind you it’s an industrial record gets tiring.

EndEx doesn’t win many points for going where no band has gone before. The album, and its creators, do deserve credit for continuing the Fear Factory tradition, as an industrial metal band preoccupied with questions of how technological advancements adversely affect our lives. If you fear the future, this is the soundtrack for you.

Very occasionally, such as during the first half of the otherwise excellent Crashed Out Wasted, that compulsion to pour honey in our ears can lead to a little too much saccharine. But on the whole, Race The Night is a journey worth taking, deftly hitting all of the touchpoints that make Ash such a special band.

True, not all these 10 songs are gonna be fan-favourites, but this return at least partly captures the sense of catharsis brought so brilliantly to that stage in South Wales.

Alas, as with other City and Colour albums, this one suffers from moments of terminal blandness.