An album which makes you feel like Maxïmo are parked when they should be in the fast lane.

For those late to the party, the album offers an opportunity to catch up and at least not miss out on a fine batch of Beck songs which might have otherwise evaded the mainstream. For those with more time and the urge to explore, though, just get yourself down to songreader.net where the real spirit of the project still awaits you.

These songs are made for clubs, student unions and theatres, not arenas. And it's all the better for it.

Hexadic is most certainly a challenging and confusing album and one that can, at times, be a struggle to listen to. It is worth persevering however, for there are flashes of brilliance to be found in the constant battle between control and abandon.

Eyes Open takes the formula of the last album and magnifies it.

Surprisingly though, Snowflake Midnight, if it is heard widely outside of fan circles, may win the band more fans than their more straightforward output.

His legacy already assured in his field (or fields, perhaps) with no apparent signs of slowing down, this is further evidence of the enduring, glitchy charm of Prefuse 73, and another compelling reason to seek him out.

Adamson mixes genres and sounds, blending and pitch-shifting, looping and deconstructing to create his most focused (though it may not sound that way on first listen) effort to date.

With a lack of tunes to come back for, maybe it would have become a better record if they weren't so focused on stardom and the charts.

An album that leaves few ripples on its smooth surface.

The beats sometimes bang in typical trap fashion, like on Topia Twins or Meltdown, but are not afraid to go surreal and alien.

Unfortunately, without much to grasp onto in terms of tunes, hooks or discernible lyrics CFCF can slink away into the territory of background music, albeit prettily and inoffensively.

Trick is an interesting, compelling listen and one that pushes Kele’s burgeoning reputation further.

This is an LP that promised much but ultimately it's a puzzling affair.

Deceptively expansive, Fink’s tricksy Hard Believer is essential listening.

Share The Joy finds Vivian Girls trying to broaden their scope and missing the mark a bit. Certainly, fans of the band will find something to like.

There’s still an overriding humour behind everything bis do, making data Panik an intensely enjoyable album.

There are certainly highlights but not enough good songs to give the album a big impact overall.

Unfortunately, while on Dunes’ better songs Gardens & Villa have succeeded at claiming their own sound, the issue that they currently face is that their sound simply isn’t very memorable.

It's not a bad first album; it's just not a great one, either.

They've once again made a brilliantly over the top record.

Despite Yorke's much-parodied manic dancing in the Lotus Flower music video, the album's cold soul does not lend itself to a carefree, fun-loving dance floor, and as such, the mutations herein are tentative, fragile things built on the backs of their producers, and limited, for the most part, in their relationship to their source material.

The Fresh & Onlys’ most cohesive record yet, House Of Spirits doesn’t break any new ground or take any unexpected detours, but rather solidifies their position as the foremost new-wave revivalists around. Read more at http://www.musicomh.com/reviews/albums/fresh-onlys-house-spirits#cdqLV5AbrbDVF9DB.99

Throughout the album's remaining 13 tracks, the experience is not unlike watching a flower bloom in time-lapse; this one's about Keys stepping away from safety, and the whole thing benefits beautifully from her sense of daring.

Admittedly there’s no new ground being discovered here in a wider sense (fans of Foals and Battles will be particularly unsurprised) but this sheer enthusiasm that runs throughout the album is really pretty infectious.

From Here To Now To You isn’t going to propel Johnson to dizzying new heights--commercially or critically--but it’ll keep fans listening.

This is now their third consecutive release with the same line-up, after a period of instability threatened to sink the band. It’s also their most focused album since Tomorrow’s Hits, and it might be their best since then too.

The major problem with It's A Corporate World is that it's all a bit too nice.

For the tale is only partially told here - which, when you compare The Most Incredible Thing perhaps unfavourably to the great ballets of the 19th or 20th centuries, is the one thing most obviously lacking. For now we should admire the abilities of Tennant and Lowe to move from structures of four minutes to those of an hour and a half, and hope this encourages them to continue in a form in which they have made a very listenable start.

It's certainly not a bad album, and pleasing enough while it plays, but it has no standout moment that demands further listening.

Dave Gahan’s emotional input is never in doubt, but despite some excellent production – and fine backing vocals – it is kept at a distance at times. Seen live, however, this set should be quite an experience.

Blends much that has gone before, and serves up a freshly defined new act that has potential for popular success.

The record is undoubtedly an enjoyable, comforting listen, one that provides an interesting trawl through Band Of Horses’ back catalogue. It is, however, unlikely to appeal to anyone who is not already a fan.

In its best moments, Right On! is a dark, bewitching début that is bound to appeal to fans of Warpaint. Too often, though, its formulas are repeated and sketches left uncoloured to cumulatively less engaging effect.

Wait Til Night, sometimes to its credit, but perhaps overall to its detriment, feels more like a brighter, more straightforward, R&B inspired set.

Tinashe draws on her R&B influences to greater effect with the sensual, Dilemma-sampling Ooh La La, and No Contest is another highlight, but overall Joyride does not deliver on its potential.

It is without doubt Zola Jesus’ most heartfelt utterance to date, the emotion coming from her very bones--a case where you really can see the wood for the trees.

This is a fairly straightforward rock record, to some degree, and its simplicity takes away from those moments in which Hukkelberg thrives.

With Images Rolling he has made an intriguing and, at times, inventive step up from his previous work.

He delivers an LP of soulful songs with the help of songwriters who have also written for Ellie Goulding and Ed Sheeran. The result is a mixed bag.

We are left with an album that has several great tracks, but whose filler and repetitive subject matter prevent the Jonas Brothers from realising their full-grown potential.

Both foreground and background listening are equally rewarded.

Beautifully produced it may be, but Two Vines is essentially an over polished collection of songs with less spontaneity in their composition.

She is far, far too good to be fronting songs which sound ‘current’ only in the sense that you can imagine them ending up on Rihanna‘s rejection pile.

In essence Shapes And Shadows sounds unfinished, an album for the sake of notching "solo career" into Ottewell's bedpost, and completely inessential in the grand scheme of things.

The 10 tracks that make up Arrows will wrap you up, hug you close and tell you stories before placing you back gently, where they left you.

Overall though, this very welcome comeback from Loney Dear does feel a little too stripped back and one-paced at times, so while it’s certainly an interesting development in style, you are left wishing for a little bit more of the zip and zest of Svanängen’s earlier efforts.

Too often on For Cryin’ Out Loud, he plays it far too safe and sounds up sounding like any other pop singer – and, as there’s a lot of competition out there, a bit more daring may be required should Finneas come out of the production/songwriting shadows next time.

When it’s good, it’s very, very good--but it’s also flawed. Such is the band’s conviction to capturing their reservations about our on-demand culture, it’s hard not to feel drained by the end.

He's an outsider and the best thing about this marvellous compilation, however lush the sound and however catchy the melodies, is that it does absolutely nothing to change that.

It is much stronger than their previous disappointing album The Weirdness (2007), and at times even recalls their creative heyday in the late ’60s and early ’70s.

Put this album on in the background and the chances are it will create a nice chilled atmosphere; but that's it, really. And that's disappointing. There's no denying that Eskmo's construction methods are intriguing, but it lacks coherence.

Plodding rhythms predominate and there's a prevalent sense of nostalgia that sometimes threatens to become a little syrupy, not least because of the numerous cliches about highways or the open road.

With the beginnings of what could be a cult following over the pond after enviable live support slots that've received much praise, it is a shame that such positivity could not transfer to this recording.

While the album does lose some of its focus and direction towards the end, Dear Miss Lonelyhearts is undoubtedly a much better album than Mine Is Yours.

Apparently the band's sixth studio album is their first to be written from electric guitar since their debut Good Feeling, and this shows strongly in the end result.

At times it feels like an album with no real purpose other than to be heard and then forgotten. Few tracks jump out as being memorable. A more driven focus upon one element of their sound could have led to a far greater album, or could have at least tested the waters in terms of what they might achieve further down the line.

Nothing new, then, but Manhattan is the indie equivalent of a guilty pleasure.

UUVVWWZ is undoubtedly promising, in the sense that the band have done the difficult part already, namely finding a signature sound. Now they just need to come up with the songs to match the distinctiveness of their instrumentation and that incredible name.

My Head Is An Animal deserves the attention it is getting, because it is a well-crafted, spirited debut album with soaring choruses and delicious harmonies.

Over the course of the LP... the toe-tapping comfortably outweighs the head-scratching.

Flynn remains one of the country’s most overlooked songwriters and Country Mile is a good reminder of his skill with a well-crafted song.

This is an album that challenges you, and makes you want to understand more, which in today's disposable-pop world is probably not entirely a bad thing.

For someone skilled at making music both accessible and disarming--a talent she displays so seldom on Pale Fire--Assbring has sacrificed the ability to send such a message for the ultimately unrewarding spoils of electronic production.

The only evidence we have is a middling album marking a new chapter in a diva's life that doesn't sound any cheerier than the chapters that went before.

While Violens draw from strong influences, they capture their potency only fleetingly. Amoral is a worthwhile listen, with stand out tracks that hold much promise. As yet, though, there's too much that leaves you, like that promise, unfulfilled.

Foot-stompingly perfect pop, achieved without sacrificing the folky feel... [However] while there isn't a weak track on the album, they don't always seem particularly well stitched together.

At its most nondescript, it’s the sound of a band falling between two musical stools. At its best, I’m Leaving is the sound of a band smartly prolonging its sell-by date.

If you fancy a slightly off centre alternative to the mass appeal of more prominent electronic bands, despite a few wobbly bits here and there, then you won’t go far wrong with giving this latest collection a chance.

Though the duo occasionally strike gold, too many of these songs ultimately sound like pop as tabloid fodder.

Open-mindedness and a change of approach is often laudable but, in this case, it has resulted in an album that, whilst entirely pleasant and enjoyable, is far less adventurous.

To that end, and overabundant allusions to The Beatles aside, Dig Out Your Soul is a feat in its own right.

At its best, June 2009 feels like a fuzzy, readymade memory. Yet, problematically, there's the paradox that whilst proceedings are worthy, they're too anaemic for wider public consumption - over half of the songs are under three minutes, most well under.

While there are no big surprises on Rockmaker, most of the tracks on the album are as instantly addictive as in their heyday.

This is Public Image Ltd at its best. This record is good. Outrageously good. Better than a record of an artist of Lydon's vintage has any right to make.

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

While the closing tracks have some flashes of interest, they repeatedly fall into the same saccharine McCartney-esque cliches, making the last chapter of the album as unremarkable as the first.

Mostly, though, it is the unusual, the artificially-generated and the unexpected that characterise this music. Where this works best--as, indeed, it does on most of this compelling album--the band manage to corral the diverse elements together into something that is more than simply cohesive.

A short and not a little peculiar gem of an album then and one that proves that on his day Hegarty is full of great ideas.

There are certainly moments that feel like filler, but there’s much to like about Ghost Outfit. I Want You To Destroy Me is not life-changing or revelatory but it is a solid offering and occasionally provides the odd knockout blow of a song.

Pedestrian isn’t going to grab you by the throat or rip up trees, being both pedestrian in name and largely in nature too. But don’t let that put you off; the pace may be rather ‘foot off the gas’ but its subtlety is endearing, as is the vulnerability displayed by Bloom’s vocals.

Whether or not Shit Robot is making grooves and beats that are unique and progressive isn't the point. The whole point of his work is to embrace the glorious past and then push the necessary knobs and buttons that are commonplace today to take it to a wonderfully hip-shaking new level.

There are some encouraging if fleeting flickers of light and warmth here that hint there could be more to come in terms of musical development, but for now the group are little more than faithful revivalists of a niche subculture with limited appeal beyond those already converted.

Crow has returned to the kind of music she loved as a kid growing up in the shadow of one of America's hottest soul hotbeds. The result finds her sounding more at home and effortlessly exuberant than she has since Tuesday Night Music Club.

Autobiographical, hopeful, working through different genres, one can't help but feel that if she had stretched herself while remaining focused just on quality dance-pop that the record would have been fantastic and not such a sad sunset on the legendary Summer.

On their own merits some of these tracks are classy pop songs, but there needs to be more depth and scope to Grouplove's sound if they are to look forward.

For those prepared to take the rough with the smooth, there are many moments of exquisite beauty to enjoy on this record.

Although the writing credits on all but one of the album’s tracks is given to Pressnall and Fackler, thereby excluding Bohling, it is her mesmerizing vocals that form the basis of the album, and leads to its artistically collaborative success.

This is a magnificent and engaging record from one of our most beloved actors that both jazz aficiandos and neophytes should come to adore.

From the haunting atmospherics to the ‘80s soaked electronica, there is much to love about the album. Those looking for the band that first appeared in 2002, however, will be disappointed--the traces are almost completely gone, so it’s time to accept and embrace the new Editors.

They're not completely terrible. Their music won't damage your ears or insult you, it's just quite spectacularly dull.

Once again produced by Stephen Street, Coxon has created a work full of guileless charm with a deceptive simplicity that masks some intricate musicianship, while its English pastoral ambience is interleaved with some more exotic influences.

It's just impossible to hate something so glorious.

The songs aren't in a hurry to stray beyond mid-tempo and occasionally the production is stodgy... Ultimately though it is a beautiful melancholic album.

It is in Anthony Gonzalez’ veins to make pop music where the listener will swoon, dream and ultimately smile. Despite the mournful lag in the middle of JUNK, that is what he does once again here--in his own inimitable way.

The Nightwatchman is a Molotov cocktail as volatile as any he’s thrown at the barricade of injustice in the past 15 years.

I Told You I Was Freaky is a smart, funny, musically vast album, giving everyone's favorite kiwis a chance to broaden the canvas of their twitchy, awkward, displaced brand of comedy.

The Party Ain't Over may well be dogged by obvious comparisons with Van Lear Rose, but Jackson's effort deserves to be judged on its own terms. Whilst the results are mixed, its best moments are captivating.