This is a perfectly OK record: no more, no less.

With the recent break up of Girls, there is certainly an opportunity for Jaill to take the mantle of derivative, vintage pop rock, but they are not quite there yet.

The only problem with Inside Problems is that it’s possibly too arch and mannered to appeal much beyond those familiar with Bird-lore.

Ultimately Into The Lime is a fun, if rather unexciting album.

A frustrating album whose unremitting melancholy frequently feels like an endurance test.

Their creative fires are clearly burning again, even though it feels like this album had to be exorcised for them to fully ignite in the future.

Steve offers a simple, risk-free avenue to access a very deep, very meaningful cultural history that is seemingly inaccessible to newcomers at first glance. Put simply, you’d have be pretty miserable to think it wasn’t harmless fun, and if it turns one person on to the real thing, then it’s definitely worth it.

Overall, it's an easily enjoyable album with its heart in the right place.

Despite her talents, ultimately In Heaven feels like a bit of a disappointment, but a great album is still well within their abilities in the future if they ditch some of the kookiness and concentrate on their considerable strengths.

Go Away White is an unevenly inspired valediction.

This is, after all, the sound of Paul Smith freed of his band and label obligations - but the fact remains that Margins, while an interesting insight into a character, is a frustratingly hit-and-miss affair.

The record could perhaps do with more of these vocal interjections, as it's packed with mostly instrumental grooves. However what there is comes extremely well layered and with a careful structure, well thought through but also retaining the potential for improvisation and a chance to cut loose.

It’s an island of emotion on an album that overall sounds curiously unaffected by the tumultuous events of the last few years.

This is an absolute delight for a fan, but hard to recommend for anyone else. Of the entire back catalogue, Side Effects seems like the slightest of their albums, but at least its hottest moments go some way to countering how underdone the whole thing seems.

It’s a pleasing finish to a rather uneven collection. People often say that the first episode of a sit-com is disappointing, and you should skip to the second, which is exactly the approach we propose for this album.

Aside from several unwanted bumps in the road that fail to impress at all, he has at least managed to produce something that resembles an echo of past glories in a few places.

It's a sometimes bleak record, but one that shows that Armstrong and his cohorts are not satisfied by taking the easy route.

Some of the tracks do seem a bit half-formed admittedly, with the second half of the album sailing a bit too close to filler for comfort.

A Joyful Noise is the sound of Gossip taking their love of dance floor pop to its natural conclusion with their most obvious and accessible album yet.

Yet after this strong opening half, the album struggles to maintain the same level of interest over the uneasy feel of Second Nature and the dramatic distant pianos and glitchy noises of Easy.

Even during its more ludicrous moments, though, it’s impossible to deny the beauty that often shines through.

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.

Love + War is solid rather than spectacular, but contains enough promising signs to suggest his next album could be something special.

Veronica Falls have carved into a niche that will always have a small but loyal following which will baffle those on the outside. Newcomers would do well to do their homework first, and enjoy this debut with a thousand points of reference.

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

For all its flaws, it remains a tremendously fun record. But artistically speaking, it’s woefully weak.

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

Not a bad addition to the Antipodean canon then, and an interesting mix of the macho, the sensitive, the timeless and the "cool right now"--although one suspects that the latter is not something the band have deliberately aspired to.

Repentless does possess a few standout moments but, whilst Slayer’s return is welcome, there’s little here to suggest they’re ready to push on and dazzle their fans with something mindblowing.

This record is laced with intention and ambition, as well as a hunger and fire that keep it together, just.

Although Brown is to be commended for braving topics that other songwriters would fear to tread, he has a habit of expressing his sentiments in the most laughably simplistic terms.

If you love Snow Patrol, Wildness will please. But while it has moments that can be thoroughly enjoyed in increments, if you’re expecting developments--especially given the seven-year gap between released--then you’re out of luck.

Covered had the makings of something great, but ends up sounding far more uneven than it should have.

Their debut slots into a middling no-man's land with very few defining characteristics, positive or negative.

It brings its fair share of frustration, but Christine And The Queens’ third record is undoubtedly interesting, a lateral progression if ever there was one.

This is firmly heading towards the subtler, less heavy summery sounds of The Proper Ornaments and Ultimate Painting and, while there’s little wrong with that, it may be a little disappointing to those that were so impressed by their occasionally mouth-watering first.

It’s a record that definitely holds rewards for the patient listener, but it’s also one that cries out for a judicious pair of editing scissors.

As debuts go, there are flashes of brilliance, but Elsewhere is not consistently excellent.

Anyone unacquainted would be better off buying the original album, enjoying the aural experience of one of Mogwai's best for years and then revisiting what is essentially an add on, albeit one which builds on an impressive base and is an involving and exciting listen in its own right.

While Roots & Echoes has some ace moments, it steps back from the brink of insanity in a way they've never done before.

The world of CEO remains an intriguing, if frustrating, place.

Admittedly, the band's past catalogue sets the bar high, but Forth is an achievement, especially when considered in the context of so many failed attempts by others to return after a period of inactivity.

With much to commend them and their sound, Chapel Club may not have the newest or freshest set of ideas on the block, but the inner confidence coursing through their veins suggests they are open to invention and greater emotion on future records.

A signature sound is all well and good, but in the future the duo would benefit from indulging their inventive side more.

A.M. may pick up some takers for fans of both protagonists' main bands but there is little here that will tempt the casual listener.

If you're a fan of her previous work, or even just like some good old-fashioned, earnestly well-crafted songs, then this is an honourable addition to the genre.

It’s the sound and pen of an artist who’s grown up in the public eye rewriting--or reaffirming--her identity. But that honesty sometimes comes at a cost. It’s heavy stuff, that at times feels more like an emotional release than an album she wants people to enjoy. Only with the last few tracks does she hark back to the upbeat, summery pop she’s perhaps best known--and loved--for.

It stops short of SMD's effort by quite a way, but it's a fine and much welcome showing for a pair of self-professed amateurs.

The vibe is almost complete but not quite, and it's puzzling.

For Idlewild fans, especially of the older school, there is more than enough here to warrant a pilgrimage to your local record shop.

While a few too many tracks fall into formula, now and again a track appears which stops you in your tracks, such as Lovato’s cover of Tears For Fears‘ Mad World (using the Gary Jules/Michael Andrews template, which sounds even more effective and eerie in this context). If anything, the album ends up becoming tripped up by its own ambition.

The lasting impression remains one of an unruly middle child, difficult to love, but unmistakably bearing choice hallmarks of its older siblings.

Like many victims of the cut-throat mainstream pop game it wants to join, Heartthrob falls down more often than not because the songs capture the immaturity of its target audience a little too well.

Not all of it works, but enough of that which is tried comes off to make it an interesting addition to a substantial career.

You'd have to say that III is a good Crystal Castles album. But given that II was a great Crystal Castles album, the trend isn't going the way that you'd hope.

Djourou sees him continue this trend of musical mergings, although this time it is the inclusion of vocalists that provide the main points of difference.

The New Abnormal lacks the electronic edge of Angles, it has little of slapdash power pop of their debut, and it certainly doesn’t take as many risks as their third (much underrated) record First Impressions Of Earth. There are shades of the old power on Brooklyn Bridge To Chorus, the best song on the record – but don’t ask yourself how it compares to, say, Car Seat Headrest.

It’s not a perfect album – you get the impression that Packs as a band are still figuring out their sound, and they’re at that stage where plenty of ideas are going to be thrown around.

Epworth packs some interesting sonic tricks into this record, particularly the chaotic crescendo of interlude The Eternal Now, but overall Voyager doesn’t have the memorability or consistency to justify stepping into the limelight when semi-anonymity has served him so well.

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.

This album is an acquired taste that may struggle to win a larger audience. If you’re a Grumbling Fur fan, though, you might just like this effort more than any of his other solo collections.

The moments that do shine are thoroughly warm; warm in a natural, pretention-dropping way, which seems to be where they're aiming. If The Donkeys can recreate that feeling a few more times they might be wonderful. For now they're merely salvageable.

Not everything they attempt comes off--The End Is Beautiful is a harmless and cloying ballad and Through comes across as Jimmy Eat World by numbers--but for the most part Integrity Blues is an intriguing and varied entry into the band’s back catalogue.

It’s a slightly uneven collection with some weaker tracks, but nevertheless its creators remain artists whose ability to construct slinky, agile grooves with a dark underbelly is still well worth seeking out.

Obviously nobody's expecting them to record anything revolutionary at this stage of their career, but it's fair to say that this album will probably only get Cure enthusiasts excited.

It never quite matches the standard of its predecessor and ultimately it is difficult to avoid the conclusion that their sound is just a little too different and unconventional to see them rise above the status of a minor cult band.

There are some infectious grooves here and there but they don’t crackle and snap the way they once did.

For the loyal fans, this is what they come back for. For the more casual Sleigh Bells listener, this may prove one full-length album too many.

Fabricius is clearly talented, but Wish Bone probably won’t be the album to deliver the breakthrough she deserves.

Despite the band's relapse into '90s Grunge, Sirens vaunts the odd track that testifies to the band's invetiveness.

It's a frustrating listen, ultimately. There's enough promise here to suggest a band full of potential, but you get the feeling that they won't be breaking out of that cult status anytime soon.

There’s a lot of nods and winks to other artists, while Antonoff’s own personality remains hidden. Every track on the album is nicely played and produced, but there’s nothing that really stops you in your tracks.

It's these flashes, however, that highlight the shortcomings of some of the other tracks on ((un)), leaving plenty of room for improvement for that difficult second album.

The occasional introductions and interludes niftily splice together some sampled voices that add to the sense of abstract threat and unease, even if their impact feels a little hubristic at times. Yet beneath the tempestuous tensions in this music there are also occasional hints of reflection and consideration.

In the right London bar, on the right night, bands like this can change your life… but for everything else, there’s much more joy to be had in the originals.

Their blend of the parochial and multi-cultural with a hint of dark mystery combines to promising effect here.

While The Circus will undoubtedly sell bucketloads of copies, it does all become rather samey after a while.

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.

Fandango quickly plateaus into an exercise that is pleasant rather than provocative; an effort that, despite occasional highs, is relentlessly...acceptable.

This is music to come home to, to guide you back through the darkness at the end of the evening and deliver you to the doorstep of a nice semi somewhere in Middle England.

These are earthy songs to be played on the road, to be enjoyed around a roaring fire. These are new songs that sound well-worn and well-loved – much like Crazy Horse themselves. If not that surprising a listen, it’s nearly always an enjoyable one.

This is more of a curate’s egg of an album than anything else.

There’s nothing on Alone that could stand shoulder by shoulder to the band’s genuine classics, but perhaps there doesn’t need to be. At 65, Hynde has proved all she has to, and at this stage, it’s enough to hear that marvellous voice sneering its way through some new songs.

Ultimately, Vestiges & Claws is a solid return from González.... Though, as without a distinctive cover, his comforting, low-key style can at times become repetitive and forgettable.

It's disappointing that even with all this potential that you'd be hard pressed to remember most of the album once it's finished. You'll remember that it sounded good, but you won't remember how it sounded and even several plays fail to bestow "grower" status on this disc.

Dear Life is a fine album that will appeal to his long-term fans – the sort of steady, consistent record that we’re used to from him by now.

For there’s a lot to enjoy on I Feel Alive, but the general feeling of lovelorn listlessness can take its toll on a full listen.

Spirit is, ironically enough, sometimes lacking in that, with a few too many downbeat, mid-tempo brooding numbers for comfort. For a soundtrack to a revolution, we’re going to need to party more.

This is a collection of instrumentals that, when fully peeled back, reveal beauty within, and are fit to grace many a chill out collection. It's just a shame that they stop frustratingly short of revealing more personality, which vocals would have achieved.

There are several false starts during The Kills’ fifth effort and the execution does not always quite match the intention, but for the most part it’s a successful return for the duo.

The pace is so chilled it would make a trip-hopper give up valium, and once past Vaporise it's hard to take much notice. You suddenly find yourself at track seven, and don't remember what's come before. Things do pick up again towards the end, although by now the debt owed to other artists is piling up.

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

It's not a perfect album by any means; some of the more cutesy numbers can border on the twee, and at 44 minutes it's far too long for a collection of songs that essentially sound very similar. But it is an extremely promising debut, and a warm, breezy and openly-referential antidote to the hordes of cacophonic pretenders taking themselves far too seriously.

There’s potential across this record, but not consistent greatness.

It does not do anything new or especially exciting, but what it does do it does very well indeed.

Crack-Up is, in its way, just as exhausting a listening experience as Pure Comedy.

Despite some bland detours into the middle of the road, there are still enough good moments here to remind of her talent.

Gardens & Villa, though, is an album that casts light on its creators' vices as much as their virtues, and, for all the honesty that implies, remains a drawn-out suggestion that the band ought one day to generate a long player more worthy of their principles. Still, not bad for a first go.