This is a quality piece of craftsmanship and there isn't a weak point on the album.

The best parts of A Head Full Of Dreams are where the band cut loose and play around with expectations.... However, those who hate Coldplay with the fiery passion of a thousand burning suns will also find plenty to grease their wheels on A Head Full Of Dreams. There’s the lyrics for a start, which are almost universally terrible.

When the band does not explore their influences as assertively, their music blends in a little too closely with that of their peers.

His 11th solo studio album Low in High School is a mixed bag of brilliance and dross. There are some genuinely interesting new explorations while other tracks are deeply disappointing. Disconcertingly uneven, yes, but not safely predictable.

Despite the occasional lapse into MOR sludge, this is mostly the sound of a band back on form.

The problem with Tides End as a whole is that it all sounds a bit like a blander, toned-down version of every electro-rock album released in the late Noughties, and unfortunately for Minks, five years isn’t long enough for people to get nostalgic about a certain sound.

The lameness of the words would be forgivable if they were paired with music that provided any kind of pleasant distraction. But across Happy People’s 10 tracks, the band prove themselves incapable of writing a single decent hook.

[Majenta is] an album that brings the influence of Prince on his music to the fore. It works well, with a healthy funk quotient present throughout, going with some lyrics that might make a grown adult blush but which stop short of being too risque.

When it’s on form, Reasonable Woman is proof that Sia can still hit those high marks like she’s always been able to. The trouble is that there’s just not enough of those high points on this record.

It’s not that it’s terrible--and credit should go to them for being so adventurous--but this might just be a makeover too far.

It’s a fun listen the first time, and a reasonable one at the second listen, but how it does after that is anyone’s guess. Enjoy, but proceed with caution.

It may lack the standout hits of the band’s earlier material, but the record does at least have the direction and purpose that has previously been missing.

The intricate lines are admirably realised, but now and then a more solid drum beat or hook wouldn't go amiss.

The dabbling with country music overall, however, is rather hit and miss and the distinct lack of variation over several tracks won’t help sell this album in large quantities. There is enough here though to satisfy those die-hard fans.

Oh, inverted world, you’re not as much as fun or as interesting as we hoped.

While what Clean Bandit are doing is incredibly interesting, it’s probably premature to say that they’re harbingers of musical enlightenment. They may, however, be the heralds of super-duper/boogietacular parties across the summer.

Like fine steak, Born Villain is at its best raw and bloody.

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

Somehow, the expected drama or crescendo never quite arrives, and we are left with an overextended auditory shrug, sadly emblematic of the rest of this strangely unsatisfying album.

As an album, it doesn’t break any new ground--it doesn’t try to. What it does do though is sweep itself up in a groundswell of beautiful, heart-tugging nostalgia so strong it’s as if 2003 lies just beyond the window again, shimmering in the haze of the morning dew.

In the final analysis, The Whip need to focus more on the dynamics of the dance floor and less on looking cool for the covers of inkies.

In the end, Keep Calm And Carry On is a forgettable, throwaway stopgap, a dog-eared blast of mediocrity in the career of a mainstay band.

Mr Oizo is not a man with a long attention span, and that shows as each track zips between styles and moods relentlessly, entertaining but sometimes maddening.

While the album is polished, Kassidy rarely take themselves out of their comfort zone. It's a decent album, but much like its predecessor, it's nothing to shout about.

Evolution Theory is an album that has a base level thrill to its highlights but it is an ephemeral thrill that is fleeting on record, and there’s the sense that these songs will work best in the live environment where Modestep will excel.

Exile is found wanting when they try too much to be the stadium band rather than allowing the drama to play out.

It is no necessarily a bad record, but it is seriously lacking in memorable moments, which is a crying shame considering how good Oceans still sounds.

Earth Grid does what it does and maybe that is the sole objective, an obtuse experiment in the metrics of engagement. Some will undoubtedly put this on headphones, stare into the middle distance and find a place that only Osborne can open for them. Many will ignore it.

Stupid, clichéd, utterly ridiculous for sure, but done with so much pizazz that you can't help but fall for its charms.

He infuses Relapse with occasional sparks, but fails to transcend the same tired themes--except, of course, when he becomes Marshall Mathers, the Recovering Drug Addict.

This Modern Glitch is a decent album. The problem is that The Wombats have a reputation as a better-than-decent band. This new offering isn't enormously different to what's come before.

Here's hoping that the pleasant-at-best Yeah Ghost is but a wispy, passing apparition, and not a haunting omen for similarly ineffective work in the future.

If you like Billy Corgan for his knack of writing a radio-friendly song with a heavy dose of angst, then you may not enjoy TheFutureEmbrace. Yet give the man credit for moving on and signalling a clear break with his past.

La Liberación is not a new lease of life but perhaps a glimpse of one - if only in moments, if only in one track, there still seems to be enough to keep them going. And on those good bits alone, they're worth just one more chance.

Exorcised of the dud tracks, Unbroken is a streamlined pure-pop winner, but ultimately it cannot measure up to Lovato's contemporaries.

If you’re a fan, you’ll still be a fan and if you’re not, you still won’t be.

The music's catchy, sure, and this time round it's undeniably uplifting in both tone and substance, but there's precious little about Night Train that's surprising enough to elevate it out of the realm of song-of-the-moment radio pop.

Their sonic departure won't be radical enough to put off fans, but the ultimate feel is familiar enough not to persuade any detractors. They may have taken a step forward, but they're still on the same street.

Endlessly is like many successors to huge-selling albums: the attempts to break with the artist's trademark sound are tentative, and the result is a record that hedges its bets to only limited success.

Although the musical advance Beady Eye have made in BE does not extend to the clumsy lyrics, Liam shows he is not just a balls-out bawler and the band sound sharp.

The band's way with a catchy hook and a summery, laid back vibe may yet see them overtake Maroon 5, but that's where their lofty thoughts should settle for now.

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

While Those Dancing Days may struggle to last in the easy come, easy go world of indie pop, let alone stand out amidst the current glut of Swedish imports cluttering our shelves, In Our Space Hero Suits proves they deserve their five minutes of fame.

It's a record for parties, for escaping the grind, and for enjoying your relaxing drug of choice.

Their impression is clear, but the soul, and even the primary reason why this sort of music was great in the first place, is coldly removed. It makes for a slightly uncanny listen, like a collection of all the filler tracks from '88 twee.

Die-hard fans can rest assured that the band have certainly not gone rave but, sadly, there’s really not a great deal to rave about either.

Island Universe is a reassuringly confident and energetic album, and suggests a band with enough promise to make even stronger bodies of work in the future.

The decision to feature Marcus Mumford of Mumford & Sons on Lay Your Head On Me is baffling but not disastrous, as a soulful guitar lick dances around earnest vocals about honesty and intimacy. Trigger featuring Khalid is woefully boring, his low-key delivery rubbing up against sludgy chords and a weird mixed metaphor in the hook. Rave De Favela is by far the best track of the record, with hard-edged 4×4 beats, novel sound design, infectious syncopation and lively performances from MC Lan, Anitta and BEAM.

It's clear from Flamingo that Flowers accounts for the lion's share of talent in The Killers, and if they ever go on definite hiatus, their fans can look forward to more consistently good material in the form of Flowers' solo albums.

Tape Club is a fine time capsule for their first decade together.

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.

All in all, Sequel To The Prequel is a consistent and accomplished return from Babyshambles.

It only fails in that its broad pallete means when Mondo is good, it can be very good. When it fails to hit the mark however, it's pretty average fare.

They asked, so we'll tell. Does it offend me? No. Does it bore me? Yes.

Though Natural Rebel has its moments, it all feels a bit staid and stale: not so much rock’n’roll rebellion as conventional cliché, both musical and lyrical.

A record which stares back at you with the appeal of an ex you'd rather not have bumped into.

The production drips with gloss, but unlike Acolyte, it’s a gloss that obscures rather than glimmers.

So far, so deliriously cheesy. Unfortunately, the remainder of The Beat Is... lacks any sparkle or panache, with the band falling foul of a very current musical disease; the Auto-Tune obsession.

With a little more focus and a natural approach, he could find himself a unique voice that sits outside of the styles he is trying to embrace.

Kassidy have proved they're as serious about recording as they are performing and if their debut album is any indication, they're in it for the long haul.

Ultimately, Chaos And The Calm is a solid, if unspectacular, first effort from Bay.

It feels like a satisfyingly natural progression, but brave all the same. Because his first album was a big deal.

Euphoric Heartbreak is a more accomplished, interesting piece of work; a brutal but exhilarating listen. Yet without the hype that surrounded its predecessor, and with a distinct change of tact, it might struggle to find its natural home.

All in all, passably decent party music, but lacking in the divine touch its title might imply.

With its insipid, limp first half this is most certainly not the record to do it. The listening experience is made all the more irritating and frustrating given the sudden improvement in the final third of the record, but no part of it will ever be described as life changing or world-shattering.

Throughout his sounds have poise and power, and although the album is too long it does not often flag, for he is careful to fluctuate the colours used.

The reality is that Glitterbug just doesn’t excite or leave any lasting impression.

In the passing of time they’ve aged a bit, and though they can still intermittently move us with their thoughts, it is difficult to see anywhere they could go from here musically. It is the right time to go.

There are some slight missteps, like West’s tedious hook on Everything, but Nasir proves Nas’ ongoing relevance as one of New York’s biggest living rappers, with the best overall production and best quality control since Illmatic: the curse may finally be lifting.

What might start as a project which has specialist appeal only therefore becomes something well worth hearing, a lesson in how to make the most from an instrument with seemingly limited range, without overdoing the beard scratching.

There simply isn’t enough variation, with the overwhelming presence of Righton’s one dimensional vocals lacking allure after a few tracks and the invariable electronica also doing little to excite or surprise.

As opening statements go, Better Living is comprehensive and, as a hardcore punk album, it is extremely successful.

After 30 years since their first incarnation, has the flowing fountain of creative inspiration finally run dry for the Bunnymen?

This is a debut album of startling originality, that seems set to cast its spell most acutely on a hot summer's night.

The most impressive thing about Long Way Down is how, despite being an album based on a simple, almost naïve set of concepts--being in love, falling out of love, the raw emotion of being young and not understanding the world yet--it sounds accomplished well beyond Odell’s years.

Drowners is a fun little record, if you want to get all patronizing about it, but it’s difficult to get any further than that because of its staggering unoriginality.

To Kill A King here seem ultimately still to be wrestling with the problem of how to make several different ideas gel together. They are at their best when it feels as if they’re playing just to you and no one else; maybe a bit of scaling down would do them a lot of good.

She has not made Smile to impress critics, but rather as an emotional catharsis, and in some tracks this catharsis does sparkle. But it would be great if, in her next creative venture, she focused less on just her smile, as wonderful as it is, and more on the complex emotions that make up the main draw of Smile.

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.

A lot of guest names (including Jon Hopkins, Little Simz and Ayra Starr) and songs with literally the worst lyrics you’re likely to hear this decade. Possibly most unforgivably, there are barely any memorable tunes either – which used to be Coldplay’s great strength.

The record is overweight with memorable tunes, epic and intimate at the same time.

It’s a beautifully produced album with a consistent sound which they can finally call shot gun on.

Hook-laced in all the right places, melodic, rhythmic, intelligent, addictive and slightly quirky: they don’t skimp on any of the ingredients here.

The sad thing is, Gomez has one of the most pleasant and distinctive voices of her Disney cohorts, but she's let down by an album of weak songs that try too hard to be family friendly. Back to the drawing board for this cartoon pop star.

While this isn't a bad album--and Manson diehards are likely to enjoy it quite a bit--there's the sense that it may be an unwanted one.

Unfortunately, it's generally downhill all the way thereafter, as it becomes rapidly apparent that Young The Giant have banged out all their best songs early on and rapidly run out of ideas.

Free Spirit is a patchy album from an artist who is perfectly capable of delivering nifty falsetto lines and smooth come-ons, but who is also far too predisposed to sloppy downtempo numbers.

This is one for hardcore fans only and casual listeners will be better off waiting for the inevitable Greatest Hits compilation.

It's a passable enough indie guitar album, but this is a genre that requires shaking up by a truly revolutionary record. This, unfortunately, isn't that record.

Sadly, Do It In The AM is formulaic, conveyor-belt pop music with no discernable feeling or soul to it.

Had Crystal Fighters not taken their foot of the pedal towards the end, Cave Rave could have been their breakthrough album. Instead, it’s just a very good one.

There is much potential here--Arthur clearly has far more to offer music than the Marcus Collins‘ of this world--yet it feels frustratingly undeveloped.

It’s not an unqualified success, but it’s a guaranteed seller over Christmas. And, as one of this country’s more entertaining pop stars, it’s nice to have him back.

The album hits more often than it misses. Longstanding fans will either love or loathe the more prominently electronic direction, but it’s clear that Embrace have succeeded in keeping up with the times while continuing to sound like the same band.

Despite its name K2.0 is neither a straightforward sequel nor a reboot; rather, a half-familiar formula performed with renewed vigour.

The record is obvious and contrived; but bass is bass, a drop is a drop, and a banger is a banger – no matter how much guilt the enjoyment brings.

The trouble is that in the two years since Love Angel Music Baby she doesn't seem to have moved on or evolved at all.

All in all, Put The Shine On is a stunning update of the classic CocoRosie sound.