Whilst Boats appear more polished, the energetic ramshackle anthem of Great Skulls seems keen to remind everyone that it’s not precision, but feeling that is important.

Yes, Love Undercover does sound a bit different from The Coral’s material, with a more soul and R&B influence, not to mention Merseybeat, but there is nothing particularly distinctive in the music.

It may not be entirely successful, but it could well be looked back on as the acorn from which a bigger tree grew.

The Melodic’s busy, busy style just doesn’t work with non-dynamic mixing. And the album can hurt the ears to the point of irritation.

The only trouble is that the good tracks are matched by the nondescript filler.

Protest Songs is not likely to prove as much as a career renaissance as their last album Encore did, but it’s an interesting and moderately successful little detour from a band who are probably well overdue their ‘national treasure’ title.

There may be nothing on here Funplex that will challenge the likes of Rock Lobster or Love Shack, but Funplex is a consistently brilliant party album from a band that knows the value in simply having a good time.

Tre! is more whimper than bang.

Korn have succeeded in bringing mainstream producers to inject freshness into their songs, without entering into a Faustian bargain and compromising their music.

Comparisons with Older are revealing, for Robbie sounds a bit world weary here at times, and the orchestrations are layered on thickly in an attempt to bring some brightness to the grey. Sometimes this works--with the electro swagger of Bodies a case in point--but other times the colour is a pasty, codeine white.

Three wears its scars where they’re visible, at times this makes for an uncomfortable and uneven listen, but when it clicks, they’re unstoppable.

Music To Be Murdered By succumbs to temptation a few times, with a pop concession here and a lacklustre verse there, but it’s the clearest sign yet that there’s a future for Eminem as well as a legacy.

While at times ¿Cómo Te Llama? might feel as though it's fallen through a timewarp from the late 60s/early 70s, it's not afraid to jump around within this, from raw garage rock to deeper, darker blues.

If you get past the fact that CBV aren’t trying to be radical or cutting edge, or even particularly contemporary, you’ll find a pleasantly undemanding, chilled-out record that’s the perfect soundtrack for all those warm summer evenings we’re crossing our fingers for at the moment.

Once again this is a thought provoking and stimulating listen from Squarepusher, continually developing his style and surprising in his lightness of touch and inclusion of Latin and funk influences.

While a good half of the album demonstrates a genuine songwriting nous, other elements hint at a mere rehashing of old Suede ideas. More's the pity, as the opening three tracks alone are worth the price of admission.

With their second album The Drums are more absorbing than ever, and have created a record that will last far longer than their first.

An uncomplicated and perfectly pleasant record, swirling with some instantly intoxicating '60s inspired pop numbers, Lights Out finds itself running at the same, ultimately tedious pace for 12 songs.

Preacher’s Sigh & Potion finds Dear mostly content with spinning his wheels, but luckily his unique style and vocal delivery make it an enjoyable spinning.

For such an experimental band maybe they could have pushed these remixes further instead of into a no-man's land of accessible. For Battles, this is unchallenging territory.

This is an album that celebrates OMD's electric romanticism as purely as ever, with occasional concessions to house music developments made in a way that flatters their own work, part of an impressive desire to keep their original aesthetic . In that respect, it represents a qualified triumph.

It's a wallflower of an album, pretty, nice, but lacking the inspiration needed to lift it beyond the mundane.

None of it stops you longing after the energy and charm of their debut.

A thoroughly decent album from start to finish.

The whole project is overproduced and overly slick, stripping the nuance out of the hymnal nature of the music, music that should be allowed to breathe so that it can shine.

A missed opportunity, then, but also perhaps the beginnings of a creative resurgence.

For an artist who’s capable of making genre and generation defining records, Deadbeat just simply isn’t good enough. Too much fluff, too many unfinished ideas, too ponderous, too flabby.

While there's nothing particularly wrong with looking to the past for influences, Yucca struggles at times beneath the weight of those it seeks to emulate.