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.

Yet, for all its flaws, there’s something undeniably addictive about Rebel Heart, and even the songs that don’t work so well are still a million times better than anything gathered on MDNA or Hard Candy.

It wears its heart on its sleeve, and is relentlessly inventive. It’s the sound of an artist continuing to evolve whilst encouraging anyone who is lucky enough to encounter their work to follow suit.

If Antonoff can add more of his own personality into songs as beautifully crafted and well produced as these, they could unleash something special.

At times Lightning Dust produce some sublime moments on Fantasy but there are too few of these to warrant repetitive plays of the album as a whole.

While there may be nothing to touch Goddard’s finest solo moment (that would be the sky-scraping collaboration with Valentina, Gabriel) or most of Hot Chip’s immense back catalogue, Harmonics is still a distinctive, often exhilarating, record from Goddard and his host of friends.

All that said, there’s a lot to love still, and if you carefully trim around the dross, you’re left with a stunning product and some phantasmagorical slivers of sonic mastery.

On songs such as this [Fairchild] and Chapter 16 Dave sounds focused, engaging: ingredients of a great album are here, but he’s yet to stick the landing.

There is little filter on the creativity here as White’s legacy allows him to explore and indulge odd ideas, but it could do with some productive channelling. Hence Fear Of The Dawn ends up a partially enjoyable but partially frustrating listen.

Plaid’s contemporaries from the early ’90s are in very different places now, with Aphex Twin incorporating styles footwork in his new releases and Autechre progressing further and further into uncharted terrain. This album, however, is from a duo mostly content to amble down memory lane.

This is a brisk, bright and joyful album from a band who have been anything but those things in recent years. It’s recommendable for those attributes alone, but even more so when you start to get the feeling that this could herald a return to form.

Always Inside Your Head strikes a good balance between continuity and change, and re-establishes Lone as one to watch in the electronic scene.

When even the track titles are difficult and unclear it is evident that one is dealing with a band that demands dues are paid. If you choose to do so, the time and effort spent may well ultimately pay off.

The music may be unspectacular, but it just works.

While Reign Of Terror may not possess anything quite as startlingly infectious as Infinity Guitars, Sleigh Bells' return shows that they are more than a one-trick pony.

Like much of Richard Dawson’s material, it’s an album that has to be immersed in and savoured – and although it may be a struggle sometimes, there’s nobody else out there making music quite like this.

The songs themselves range from the good (the surprisingly energetic I Can Do It With A Broken Heart, throwback ballad But Daddy I Love Him, the extra textures of the Florence + The Machine duet, Florida!!!) to the somewhat samey but still enjoyable (So Long, London; the title track; Fresh Out the Slammer), to the unnecessary retreads (Who’s Afraid of Little Old Me?, The Alchemy), to the truly rotten (Down Bad – which can’t manage to disguise its hollowness with truly beautiful textures, and I Can Fix Him).

Even if Settle quiets the unreasonable expectations surrounding it by offering a solid collection of smart dance tracks, some songs do not fully live up to the hype.

For all of its strengths, the album is somewhat let down by its monstrous length – 78 minutes, to be exact. That’s not to stay that Cunningham and his collaborators can’t hold the listener’s interest for the entire running time (they can), but that the whole experience can be overwhelming and a little draining.

Crying Out Loud offers plenty of confirmation that Kasabian are in rude musical health.

Long term fans might find Worship not as visceral as previous outings, whilst those intrigued by occasional flashes of melody might find themselves beaten into submission by the album's oppressive nature.

For anyone who still thinks Cast are nothing more than a band specialising in meat-and-potatoes jangly indie pop, Yeah Yeah Yeah demonstrates why they’ve endured so long over the years.

It might not be entirely mega, but there's enough to fawn over with this robust collection of breezy and inventive Americana.

Overall, however, when listening to Personal Appeal--a tremendously satisfying listen nonetheless--you wonder what a Moore record might sound like if he took some time to plan or tweak his musical ideas.

As it is, New Material is now their fourth release. It may be the most consistent of the lot, but it isn’t the strongest. That accolade, for now, goes to their previous record purely because of the variety of textures and tones. But it’s exciting to see what comes next.

An energetic ride with plenty of musical thrills and spills which will sound a treat live, on the road or in the club, but one which doesn't fully convince when the vocals are added to the mix.

The results might not always work--the dreary "Disturbed This Morning," for example--but when they do, it is almost always exciting. By no means is this a classic album, but there are plenty of worthwhile moments to be had.

UR Fun is one of those albums which will delight their fans, and probably not make too much of an impression outside the fanbase. What this album shows is that Barnes and his band are still capable of providing a soundtrack to the best party you’ll never be invited to.