It gets on with the job in hand, never short changing the listener, and in the process providing a valuable insight into one of pop music’s great creative minds in the process.

While not quite up to the standard of his finest solo works like 1991’s Rumor And Sigh, Ship to Shore is nevertheless a remarkably fresh and vital sounding record, with Thompson’s rich baritone voice undimmed by the years and a clutch of excellent songs, mostly characterised by his familiar themes of vulnerability, disappointment and loss.

Taken individually, most of the songs are accomplished and engaging (though we could certainly have done without the dreary Sad Beautiful Tragic) but Speak Now was such a coherent work that Red can't help but feel modestly disappointing.

It seems as if You Know Who You Are is a shrug of the shoulders, a ‘let’s get on with it regardless’ statement instead of letting themselves get hung up over near misses and spluttering to a mid-air stalling. Instead they’re very much still soaring amongst the clouds.

Basses Loaded is something of a mixed bag. Some of it works, some of it doesn’t and some of it is just a little bit too silly for its own good. As usual though, the good far out-weighs the bad, and the Pinkus and McDonald and Warren contributions make it worth a look.

While the album’s more maximalist aesthetic may bring challenges for the casual listener, for those who commit it succeeds in being a cohesive and impactful listen.

It’s a lot more ambitious and experimental--more often than not, anyway--than previous releases. When it stumbles, it’s merely fleeting. There’s no doubt that their reputation is intact.

The result is warm, dreamy, evocative and beautiful, a worthy successor to 2005's self-titled debut and an album to savour under the late evening sun, once the summer arrives.

It may not receive the attention its predecessors did, from me at least, but it's an impressive return to form; that in and of itself is worthwhile.

In many ways, it’s the perfect soundtrack to a world struggling to emerge from a pandemic. ... If there’s a criticism to be had, it’s that it all sometimes seems a bit cold.

This collection shows the old tricks have served them brilliantly so far, and The Brighter The Light works as it says it will, leaving us with a lasting high.

They've come a million miles from their earlier recordings.

You will have gathered from this that Happy In The Hollow makes a positive impact, its occasional loss of focus an asset rather than a fault as the music runs free. TOY make music notable for its mood, groove and texture, if not always finding a killer melody.

This sort of music is not intended for close listening, relying as it does on repetition and vibe. It does, however, deliver the sound that Com Truise is known for in abundance, and delivers it with a nuance that’s a cut above the other YouTube wannabes.

It's an overheard confessional, or an electronic diary entry from a very sad masked man, and an artistically impressive and musically satisfying one at that.

It doesn’t hit the heights of his debut nor is it quite so thrilling; however, it is certainly an impressive work nonetheless.

It remains an awfully good first effort, and the boys clearly have some exciting ideas - not enough to fill the entire disc, but exciting nonetheless.

All in, this is a strong if straightforward album packed with effective if safe earworms, albeit from someone whose very name suggests twists and turns.

Sure there are obvious bands they can be liked to--The Band, Sam Cooke, Otis Redding--but its pace and passion make it a record to enjoy for itself, rather than its influences.

Choice Of Weapon sees The Cult back to doing what they do best, which is producing slightly dark and remarkably catchy rock 'n' roll.

While Bass Drum Of Death is stripped back and wins many points for commitment to a certain aesthetic, it’s also a largely successful album in terms of tunes.

This is a more mature, Baroque record, at times reminiscent of the best, new wav-ish tracks from The Posies' 1998 album, Success.

It’s light, supple and tender, full of balladry and spacey (almost psychedelic) arrangements that seek to soothe and soften your mood rather than make you want to breathe fire (as their early work was wont to do). Unfortunately, it also challenges Indie Cindy for the unfortunate title of ‘most inconsistent Pixies album’ – it is, however, better than that record.

Whereas Walker seemed to grasp something on that album [The Drift], here he seems restless and inconsistent, but his continuing artistic quest remains peerless and fascinating.

For the most part, it’s an album of solid indie pop songs that, thanks to Harkin’s habit of writing great guitar hooks and vocal melodies, manage easily to worm their way into your ears.

If some of the sound could be better defined, and the special effects shaken on with a slightly lighter hand, it would be more coherent and ultimately more impressive.

Apparently, No Más is completely sample free, with every sound painstakingly worked on to make it sound like it came from an old sample. It's this kind of logic that makes No Más an oddly compelling listen, in the sense that you're never quite sure whether what you're hearing is amazing or awful.

Whilst it’s not quite in the same league as many of The Flaming Lips’ albums – not just The Soft Bulletin – it has plenty of worthy moments that can blossom in time.