Milagres have on their hands an album that ultimately forsakes its momentum for a lack of ideas; the highs are certainly high, yet the lows eventually take over the asylum.

An album that leaves few ripples on its smooth surface.

For anyone wanting something new, exciting, raw, intoxicating... then this isn’t for you. If, however, you know what you like, don’t like taking risks, want an easy life when it comes to spending money on music and are already a fan then you’re going to be satisfied with an album that probably ranks dead centre amongst their full catalogue.

The rest of the album plods along nicely, Healy's lullaby vocals soothing their way through single Buttercups and sure-to-be follow-up single Anything, which will sit quite happily alongside the likes of Driftwood and Sing.

With Transfixiation now becoming the band’s fourth album, the formula of overwhelming noise was becoming perhaps a little too familiar. There are still elements of their early guise present, but the need for change is clearly reducing the decibel levels.

While Mordechai falls just short of providing that ‘sit up and take notice’ moment many of us have been waiting for, there’s certainly a lot to admire about Khruangbin – not least their formidable crate-digging skills.

No half measures or quarters are given, and as a tribute to Pierre Henry it is a fitting piece of work indeed. Yet the lack of human feeling continues to be a problem, and the unremitting bleakness of Oxymore – though accurate for our age – makes it an album for admiration rather than love.

Mark The Hard Earth is a solid enough album but perhaps not the masterpiece that Drever fans were expecting. The man seems incapable of recording a duff track, but there are just a few moments on this album where he seems to take the easy route.

Unfortunately, just like The Vaccines debut, there is very little to really make you stand up and take notice.

Those who are justifiably fond of Tigerlily will find much to enjoy here. But it’s a shame Merchant didn’t take the opportunity to shake up the original album a bit more.

Ultimate Painting is certainly no big hitting, all powerful heavyweight champion of the world, it’s far more of a flower waving pacifist.

A collection of songs that successfully articulates Khouri’s musical identity.

While Nabuma Rubberband may not be the commercial breakthrough that some may have expected, it’s still a largely enjoyable record and, together with fellow Swede Lyyke Li‘s new album, proves once again that nobody does swooningly melancholic pop quite like the Scandanavians.

It’s different and at times more uplifting than most Parquet Courts albums, but it’s an album for the band, not for the fans.

As there is little deviation, you wonder if the band had control with the various producers largely going along with what the band wanted rather than trying to exert their own influences over the record. Whilst it does work at times, Life Is Yours will probably find itself confined to the list of also-ran albums of 2022 as a whole.

It's enjoyable, fast-paced and delivered with an undeniable amount of skill. But it isn't memorable enough.

It lacks that sprinkling of stardust to make it special, but after the valedictory bitter taste of Tarantula, it’s good to have Ride back and evidently enjoying themselves again.

While there's no arguments with the quality of the craft on display, over the course of a 12 track album, you may find yourself nodding off sometimes. Yet there's still a warm glow to this album, and anyone who's missed the sound of Knopfler expertly working the fretboard, will find much to love on it.

The patchiness of the album is perhaps a consequence of Kylie trying to placate the disparate portions of her remaining fanbase. Still, seven keepers out of 13 is a decent hit rate. A merry little album.

This was undoubtably an excellent night out if you were lucky enough to be in the audience, but as an album it’s a mild diversion at best, which will probably end up directing you back to the Dylan original.

It’s A Pleasure ultimately comes across as slight as its deliberately platitudinous title, but Dury remains an intriguing talent who’s worth following.

Annual feels like a one-paced, indistinctive first step into a new world and one that is begging for just the odd about-turn to maintain interest.

Heyoon is an often confusing collection that depicts a mad mind, but one that at times offers enough intrigue to warrant attention.

When RAYE is self-consciously rebelling against the mainstream it results in some of My 21st Century Blues’ worst music, whereas on the best tracks we hear an artist who fully deserves this victory lap and more.

It may not have the instant listenability of We Were Here, and there are parts where it gets slightly bogged down but, in the end, it is another worthy addition to their catalogue.

Their last studio record saw them in upbeat, energetic form, and whilst that playfulness is still present at times on Elwan, there is a conscious grounding too this time around.

While there’s no denying that when they hit their default groove – as on To the Nth, for example – GoGo Penguin are a mightily tight, impressive unit, this album does leave you wanting more from a very talented band clearly capable of greater things.

After You may plough a relatively safe furrow in its construction and execution, but he is a very relatable singer, and the keenly felt blue-eyed soul on here should win him new converts.

The Ghost Who Walks is by no means a poor album. There are lovely moments littered throughout and for the most part Elson is a convincing performer. Having said that, it's not an album that lives on in the memory, and the feeling that you've heard much of it before is hard to shake.

There are numerous highlights on Coming Up For Air to ensure success in sales and chart placings and that is, of course, the dream for any aspiring act: fame and fortune. But it comes at a cost as the charm and character of their early guise is being tempered.

Ghost Stories is overall a confessional and, as such, you definitely won’t find many anthems a la Every Teardrop Is A Waterfall or Viva La Vida. But you do get a short and sweet nine-track exorcism of demons and one crushed dude who knows how to pen some beautiful, infectious ballads.

It’s a well-produced record, even if Ufabulum is a better example of the new style put to good use.

Thorn's voice will always be a thing of undimmed charm and emotion, but the gulf between the music styles on display here, which flick from 70's disco, piano ballads and electro-pop seem like trying to keep a foot in both camps of the simpler days of her youth, and the ‘hip' dance crowd.

Entertainment, though, sounds tame by anyone's standards; and by eschewing their seedy, sweaty origins in favour of clean-cut pop, they've dumped those elements of their act which made them unique in the first place.

For the main part, The Life Of The World To Come is so familiar as The Mountain Goats that it seems rather lazy.

Not a bad effort, but we've come to expect more.

With Family Portrait Ross From Friends (or Dr Geller as he prefers to be called) confirms enviable production skills that were already displayed on hype-building 12” releases, but is missing some songwriting nous that would have lifted the album up and made it a more consistently engaging listen.

The confidence of a band that took over a year to record the album is notable, and theirs is an assured voice.

Splitting I Don’t Care Pt 1 and I Don’t Care Pt 2 into two separate tracks makes sense; one is jerky and aloof, the other stumbling and awkward, and they make nice companion pieces. But putting the two tracks either side of the aimless piano noodling of Hank’s Theme is a mis-step. That said, there are some excellent songs here, like the bristling, melodic Viper Fish, the frenetic Cracker Drool and the brash Country Sleaze.

Individ is certainly a challenging listen. The intricacy of the drumming and the choppy vocal style are both compelling components and together represent the key ingredients that will determine a listener’s attention span.

Pretty but inessential, God Help The Girl may make more sense when the film is finally delivered next year. Up until then this is largely of interest to Belle & Sebastian completists.

There is some magic to Mann's music and it's often hard to define.

It’s easy to appreciate and admire, but difficult to enjoy.

There is a great deal of music here that showcases Ahmed Gallab's musical dexterity and skills as an arranger, however it is slightly unsatisfying as a cohesive and lucid album.

Despite some excellent high points, Tasmania appears jumbled as a whole and there are too many tracks that just don’t hit the bullseye for it to be upheld as the best Pond have recorded.

There's a confidence obvious throughout that suggests Sparro will build on what is a strutting debut, even if at the moment he's a big voice with too many small songs to sing.

When it finds itself so hopelessly in thrall to lost love, the record can cross a line into mawkish self-pity, the classic pitfall of many a confessional breakup album, and its appeal can then wear thin.

Unfairly or otherwise, Lights will be consumed by many with the weight of expectation hanging heavy around it. For the most part, the strength of the songwriting should keep the doubters at bay.

The album, when taken as a whole, is simply too much. When taken as individual pieces, it works much better – and there’s simply no reason for it to be this long.

Phenomenal Handclap Band have created an extraordinary record, an accumulation of countless styles and eras of music that at times works impeccably. But too often it just a little too frenzied to adore.

My Old Familiar Friend seems to be an album with modest aspirations which, for the most part, it achieves.

It is not instantly recognisable as Groove Armada, but it shows how the pair have moved on from constant festival sets and gigs to managing farms in France, as Andy Cato now does. Clearly they still want to have a good time, but the stress is now on music that feels older than it does new.

If he can place more focus on songcraft, his tunes will soar majestically; but at the moment there's not a lot under the surface to make him anything other than intriguing.

All in all it’s a decidedly mixed bag, with producer Mark Ronson failing to make the experience even remotely coherent, though during this soundtrack’s highlights even the most committed Nolan fanboy might just get caught up in the hype.

At times this recording is compelling, entrancing even with its sheer beauty; occasionally though it drags.

The blues boogie tunes aren’t quite up to par, but it’s still a goody bag filled with enough treats to please fans.

Céu can still sit squarely in the middle of the road at times, particularly when she attempts English language pop songs.

It's Tesco shelf filler, it's Father's Day fodder, it's the stack of cover versions every lazy advertising executive is craving now that Please, Please, Please Let Me Get What I Want is all played out.

When the music peaks this is an enchanting listen, but it's unlikely to win the band any new converts.

As a collection of songs, this eponymous effort goes a long way to restore the singer to her rightful place as purveyor of some of the most carefree, feelgood pop around.

This album, though at times an obscure experience to the untrained ear, is at other times Royksopp-like, though never to the point of radio friendliness.

Heartache has inspired countless songs and albums over the years and if nothing else Old Flowers shows how humans will continue to turn to music for comfort in times of sadness for many years to come. These songs have clearly provided solace to Andrews and it’s likely they’ll do the same for others in similar need.

It’s a strange sort of record which doesn’t exactly grab you from the off, but has quality enough to keep you coming back, and at least suggests that Ryley Walker’s next move will be intriguing.

Like most Hole albums, Nobody's Daughter has flashes of inspiration but is generally weighed down by inconsistency and too many songs that sound like they were phoned in.

Flesh And Machine is a record made with an abundance of indulgence; a collection of sounds that requires cynicism--and hopes for instant gratification--to be checked at the door.

As its title implies, Return To Ommadawn is nothing new of course, but it is a happy reunion that will please Oldfield’s fans greatly. It may not necessarily introduce him to a new audience, but it leads those in the know to a familiar place they know well.

Whilst Duppy Writer is an engaging and mostly enjoyable album, it also sometimes feels slightly lightweight, or intentionally minimal and immediate.

Head Carrier is a far more coherent album than Indie Cindy though (hardly surprising, as the latter was effectively a group of EPs welded together) and while it may not be a record to inspire the generations as their previous work did, there’s enough evidence that some of that old spark is still flickering.

Wonder Where We Land sounds like an album of great moments, rather than a consistently great record.

Fast Man Raider Man is simply too long, and, as such, a dilution.

It is better than the eponymous debut, although not to the level that their self-satisfaction with it would suggest, and there is still a distinct lack of consistency and a feeling that occasionally while you can see who and what they're aiming at, they miss quite considerably.

No One Is Lost isn’t a bad record: most of its songs are put together with care and the results are highly listenable. It’s just a shame the band seemed to lose their nerve in its execution.

Dominant Legs' debut album really is an album of two halves. After the strong opening, Invitation dwindles towards a less convincing conclusion.

While it sometimes does become a bit too overwrought, those people who found Tori Amos' vignettes so compelling will find much to love here. It helps as well that there's a light pop touch on many of the tracks.

Despite the clear-cut influences, Airbourne sound like they just want to rock and have fun in the process of making music to play live. Like Motorhead, this is a band that should be seen in all its headbangin', hair raisin' glory to be fully appreciated.

Whilst the prettiness in Tunng’s music can often be deceiving, it can also become a little oppressive after a while. The sound world can feel a little too bright and cute.

Anastasis is certainly an accomplished record and one that fits well within Dead Can Dance's output, but it is a hard listen.

Pacific Daydreams certainly doesn’t achieve the grandiose aims from the aforementioned inspiring proverb. That said, thankfully it is still a solid record which should satisfy fans.

The Violet Flame is a decent, solid album that will satisfy the faithful, while reminding the rest of the public that they’re still a going concern.

Stretched to album length, Haim’s shtick grows repetitive and the music is too frequently solid rather than inspired.

Anyone looking for another 'Hurricane' will be disappointed--but, for sheer eclecticism, the record hits a number of highs.

Greys need be a little more subtle in their own palette. It’s a great noise, just not yet a great sound.

The album's highlights far outweigh the more average moments, and there are enough signs here that The Like are going to be around for some time to come.

Unfortunately, it must be said that the results of this musical experiment aren't always as successful as they might have hoped.

It really is a shame that the production is so muddled, because Soon Away has some incredible moments that are marred by the sheer inability of the fidelity to convey what GRMLN and Park are feeling.

The sub-two minute ditties appear out of sequence and fail to offer much narrative glue to stick the album together. But at least they threatened to provide some structure to an album that sounds great but leaves you starved of proper sustenance.

Aside from the album not standing out from the competition the individual tracks have trouble standing out from each other.

Marks To Prove It remains oddly unsatisfying.

Otherness is probably a better album than Bainbridge’s debut as Kindness but it succeeds in different ways and is certainly more of a slow burner.

It’s possibly not the massively successful step forward that it probably thinks it is, but there’s enough promise shining through to make Menace Beach well worth keeping an eye on.

Dark Was The Night is not a perfect album by any stretch of the imagination, although there is enough on offer here to warrant a purchase.

Those fiercely loyal fans will be very pleased with In Your Dreams, a pit stop in her canon of rock folklore.

This new direction from Tussle will disappoint some older fans, but it's going to reel in plenty of new ones. Time and patience are both required, but this album is worth plenty of both.

The songs lack the emotional pull of the duo's debut. Seeds of greatness are still evident, but this direction just seems like a dead end.

The feeling remains, however, that Ivory Tower the album will be at its most effective when the visuals come in to play. Many of its instrumentals lack an essential element of either melody or art, so it's safe to assume they will come to life better on screen.

Just when you think the album is sinking into mediocrity, Borrell and company respond with two of the best tracks they have ever put their names to.

At its best it's a wonderful homage, at its worst it's a vanity project.

Cookies is a fairly typical debut album, in that it sees a band define their style and stick to it. No doubt in time they'll develop their sound, but in the meantime if you're after a good soundtrack to a party grab this album, kick off your shoes and get your rocks off.