While there is plenty of soul in the sound, there is a lack of body in both delivery and melody.

To Lose My Life is an album made to a predefined plan with skill and no heart.

It's this capacity to write immediately affecting songs coupled with an effortless cool that will see Hurts catapulted towards stardom. The fact that the album tails off dramatically with a series of appalling ballads in the shape of The Water and Unspoken will almost certainly be overlooked in favour of the classy sounds of Wonderful Life or the glorious pulsing anthem of Better Than Love.

There's something appealing about their brand of music with its light, sunny harmonies and direct choruses.

In the final reckoning, a solid album is raised a bar by its direct communication, illustrated by the closing 'Hard Time For Dreamers.'

The Path Of Totality is overall quite an interesting and largely rewarding proposition. Whether it manages to please dubstep or Korn fans however is another matter.

While the impressive Himalayan featured six tracks over four minutes long, By Default sees this length exceeded just once, concentrating more on short, sharp power punches.

Pavement fans expecting similar lo-fi experimentation may be disappointed with The Real Feel, but anyone who appreciates organically structured rock songs should love this album.

The tunes here are good enough to warrant repeated listens and when the album hits its stride, it's got a couple of proper anthems. It's not trying to be anything particularly clever or innovative--and it's fair to hope for some sort of evolution for a second album--but the trade off is a satisfying one.

This isn't really an album to analyse in any great depth, more to nod to endlessly, ideally with a drink in hand and a clutch of friends arrayed around, in staunch defiance of our grey-skied British reality.

Whilst most die-hard fans are likely to be put off by some of the tracks on offer, this is the sound of a band settling into comfortable maturity.

Ultimately though, Music is a case of too much filler, too little killer, even when divorced from its controversial origins.

Go Hard is worth a listen, if only to laugh at all the bravado.

Trouble is, the arrangements on Head Up High are low-key to the point of nothingness.

Nothing groundbreaking there, you might think, but it is all done with a down to earth approach that is at once appealing.

They managed to produce a collection of songs perfect for the summer months [in second album, Cave Rave]. The same could be said of Spreading Rumours, which is another album that could just as easily provide the soundtrack to Summer 2014.

This comeback effort is a huge amount of fun and a reminder that it's great that the Happy Mondays have never completely disappeared.

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.

An album that playfully veers all over the place and leaves you feeling as heady and confused as a first time stoner.

At times it may seem like the most depressing easy listening record you've ever heard, but there's plenty of depth and deft touches here to make it well worth checking out.

As such, the experimentations, and their hit-and-miss nature, doesn't make for an album you want to play over and over again; in fact, a fair amount of tunes are rather forgettable and don't really offer much.

Until Now never quite shakes the feeling of being a little gratuitous--a few euphoric gems aside, there isn't enough creative spark on the record to justify its existence, and listening to it feels about as useful as attending a Swedes gig without the live atmosphere.

Tides stakes an admirable claim to being a first tentative step in building a more advanced, melodic palette.

Listening to Rules is a surprisingly boring experience. At several instances throughout this album you wish someone would let rip with a guitar solo, fire off a rave horn or just do something to liven up proceedings.

18 Months neatly packs Calvin's hits from the last year and a half into a solid playlist.

[They] have returned sounding pretty much exactly the same as they did three and a half years ago.

While this makes for pleasant enough listening, we know that Damon Gough can do a lot better than pleasant.

Instead of recycling the catchy tunes of his '80s heydays, Lewis has gone back to his roots, delving straight into the Stax Records catalogue. Welcome to Soulsville.

It would enjoyably help to while away an hour's driving, but those seeking a little more punch will have to look elsewhere.

Tom McRae is so desperately trying to convince us that he's still a curmudgeon and angst continues to fill his soul, but it sounds unconvincingly flat.

The bits which 'aren't bad' are the bits which don't involve Ms Hilton.

Those that have heard lead single Yummy will essentially be able to form their view on Changes without listening to it: if they find it icky and monotonous then that will be how they perceive the whole album, whereas those that think it’s catchy and well-produced are well and truly in luck.

Coup De Grace has plenty to offer, but it’s not a big step forward from Kane’s previous solo work. If you liked that you’ll probably like this; if you didn’t, this probably won’t change your mind.

Overall, this one's largely forgettable, and plays primarily as a jokey--if not well produced--one-off continuation of The Red Album.

Hi-Tek's construction of techno beats and rave stabs on the quirky I Fink U Freeky and heavy brostep on opener Never Le Nkemise just add to the nauseating concoction of trash that comprises Ten$ion.

Electra Heart showcases glimpses of a clever, ballsy pop star.

There are too many unlistenable experiments left in, too much bland monotony. What little goodness remains simply isn't worth the effort.

There seems to be a number of ideas thrown together into the mix and this does result in the collection sounding a little confused towards its conclusion but there are many highlights before this point that suggests The Ramona Flowers are likely to be around for a long time.

Loud Like Love has bright spots, but the laborious moments threaten to undo their good work.

The combination of Lewis and Rodriguez-Lopez seems promising, albeit one that could use a few tweaks and a tad less self-indulgence on the conceptual front.

Zig-zagging cross-country has afforded the band a subtle grasp: while West Coast sunshine glows from their every chord, they are not bound to Pacific pop principles, and their dexterous handling renders Modern Rituals a beguiling proposition and Chief a band to keep a very close eye on.

With half of rEVOLVEr emulating his older tracks and the other half making strained attempts to branch out into rap and dance, it appears that the rappa ternt sanga simply hasn't found anywhere else to turn.

When it does flare up at its brightest though, [despite sounding a little burnt out at times] Weapons is exhilarating, a real call to arms from a band that deserves every bit of their continued prevalence.

While undoubtedly a bit too long, The Time Is Now reaffirms Craig David’s standing as a fine and flexible pop songwriter with all sorts of hooks up his sleeve.

One Good Thing is a fine album, and individually the tracks are pleasingly reflective, but the instant familiarity and maudlin cosiness is more soporific than it is arresting.

There's too much that should have never seen the light of day, that is little more than a band riffing on ideas in the studio without ever taking them anywhere near consummation. But Down In Albion just about remains afloat because there are moments on it when Babyshambles make us care.

Even with an unfocused album like The Colourful Life as a debut, Cajun Dance Party are doing much, much better than some of their young contemporaries (Miley Cyrus and The Jonas Brothers Band, for staters) in terms of crafting genuine, soulful art.

The songs often seem underdeveloped, two brief verses buried between more noteworthy hooks.

The landscape has changed a lot since Gomez first broke down the door, announcing their arrival. This shouldn't take away from the fact that Whatever's On Your Mind is decent enough, as albums go, but you feel it's been preceded by too many slight returns to make new ground this time around.

There’s nothing outright bad on Bouquet, but it’s more that it’s all so insipid and safe. Love and marriage are to be celebrated of course, but on this evidence they don’t make for the world’s most exciting music.

There's nothing complicated on this album, but then when did things ever need to be complicated?

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

All in, it suffers from a lack of focus and direction.

It delivers what you'd expect, but ambition is unfulfilled and the constant pursuit of seemingly random stylistic tangents reveals a lack of focus.

It's far from perfect, but Dear Reader's Idealistic Animals is undoubtedly a bold second album, with the almost cathartic outpouring from MacNeil giving it an unnerving and eerie beauty.

Ultimately, it is a decent return from a band who continue to show promise.

The top hat-wearing guitar hero has gingerly handpicked a diverse palette of vocalists to accompany each of the 16 tracks and contribute to the lyrics, while he takes care of the riffs....Yet the iconoclastic guitarist is careful to never upstage his guests.

Aguilera has a fantastic voice, which, when used properly, can carry a song that would have otherwise been fairly ordinary (Prima Donna being just one example) and the production on most of the songs is exemplary. It's just unfortunate that either Aguilera or her label didn't have the balls to make a very brave and exciting pop record.

A thoroughly professional, exquisitely produced, and utterly soulless album.

Tranquilizers is an album that’s entrancing enough to survive its occasional foray into the lacklustre, and definitely one to cue up when the sky gets a little bit bluer.

Unfortunately there are too many moments where the pace flags, however, and Lavelle, while not exactly running out of ideas, falls back on the familiar ones.

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

As a whole, Painting is not a bad effort, with some nice tunes, though it’s all a bit dull and predictable: good brushwork but lacking inspiration.

An all-out disco party record is waiting to be unleashed amongst it all somewhere, but Discodeine's debut is something of a mixed bag.

In short, the album is great but you do wish these bands could learn to dress better.

On The North Sea Scrolls, Haines stays true to his own brand of dark, surreal mystification and harnesses two other individual talents to create something that some will find highly satisfactory.

A collection that contains no weak links, no fillers, no afterthoughts and almost no mistakes.

Certainly there are some interesting moments on Music From The Spheres. But overall it’s the sound of Coldplay treading water. More alarmingly, it begins to sound like they’re trying not to drown.

Ultimately the album is three or four songs too long, but Man Of The Woods is rarely less than entertaining. Too slick to be a genuine man of ‘rough’, Timberlake nevertheless continues to lead the way in his field, even if he does so without consistently reaching the greatness he so clearly strives for.

Although The Brink does sound more assured and accomplished than their debut, The Jezabels’ return poses a number of problems, the most central of which being that it is just far too pedestrian.

As an album @Reverend_Makers provides infectiously good spirits, a good bit of Sheffield steel and a nice dash of humour here and there too, delivered with a dose of urban grit.

The whole thing simply flat lines into mediocrity.

For those expecting the worst ahead of Bloc Party’s return, Hymns is likely to validate all their fears. Change may have been unavoidable after losing two influential members, but to change beyond recognition is almost an insult to the original band’s legacy.

There's more than just a niggle that Free isn't breaking new ground. More disturbingly, the album is a wasted chance to build on Vivarium, and isn't as good as so much of the music it tries to emulate.

It may not be groundbreakingly new, but All Our Favourite Stories is one of the most entertaining albums of the year.

The record does admittedly sound excellent. Urgent and rippling with intensity it has a power that is let down by the lack of simply great songs. Far too many tracks follow an increasingly tired and weary rock formula.

As much as everybody appreciates a good reunion, 10 isn’t really worth getting excited about unless you’re a diehard fan.

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.

The album is a 60 minute blur, and while there are brief moments of clarity there's just nothing special about Blood Money.

Sometimes moody, sometimes optimistic, this doesn’t feel sure of what it wants to be and instead feels a little like an Air outtakes album.

They haven't completely taken their eye off what made the Charlatans so successful in the first place, but the new sound is none too convincing.

The Great Escape Artist is the least cohesive of all Jane's Addiction's albums.

At times, it's so relentlessly bouncy and upbeat that you feel like mowing down an entire shopping centre with an AK-47. Yet there's enough promise here to confirm that the hype about Mika is pretty much on the money.

Clarke is a genuinely talented songwriter, if rather earnest in his intentions, but in Music for The People he and his mates seem to have lost the plot.

Too many songs spend too much time doing precisely nothing.

The desire is there for more of that visionary spirit--though the suspicion lingers that with everything just simply too available, Moroder no longer has the focus and inspiration that fired his finest work.

After a while, it grates badly on the nerves.

There's the sense that Wild Palms are a band who desperately want to create their own world but Until Spring never quite manages to draw you fully into its bubble.

Tom DeLonge does have talent, and maybe one day he'll make an album that deserves all his self-proclaimed hype. This, however, isn't it.

Arguments of purpose and meaning aside, Animal is an infectiously good dance-pop album, and by all meaningful estimations, a towering triumph

Overexposed is rather patchy and its highs are countered by some fairly wretched lows.

The memorable melodies expressed by Chadwick, drive Eyes Wide and Accidental Anarchist passionately along, and album closer Fight Or Flight is undoubtedly a gem in the rough of an otherwise largely underwhelming effort.

six songs may only run to seventeen minutes, but for the devoted it will be a case of quality overriding quantity.

This may be her strongest set of songs yet and, even if not every one of its experiments quite comes off, at least these are indicative of an artist who's not content to cruise on auto-pilot.

It's not perfect and there are two or three tracks that don't really work, but it's hard not to be won over by the LP as a whole.

Although there are some memorable moments here, none of them come close to tracks such as Mars or The Dozens.

While the album does tail off slightly towards the end, III is for the most part a solid comeback for Shiny Toy Guns.

At best, he sounds like he’s going through the motions, at worst, he’s crumbling inside, slowly realising he’s sold his soul.