Whilst it’s a brave attempt to explore new lands outside their comfort zone, it’s one that isn’t quite as rewarding and rich as Patrick Watson would have hoped.

As far as compilations and rarities sets go, this is no cynical cash-in, but neither is it absolutely essential, even for fans of the band. There’s a lot of cool material here that is definitely worth exploring, but nothing that will demand a second listen for anyone other than the most hardcore of fans.

It all makes for a captivating listen or a dreamy forty minutes, whatever your preference - though a possible failing can be found in only occasional glimpses of the human soul.

Just as André 3000 isn’t as good at singing, acting or guitar playing as he is at rapping, he also isn’t as good at playing wind instruments, going some way to justify the disappointed reaction to this record’s announcement. That being said, the fun he’s having through experimentation is undoubtedly infectious, and at various points the musical ensemble create such an otherworldly vibe that one forgets the main artist is famous for something very different.

At times feels too regimented, leaving you wishing that he would just relax a little and drop the self-consciousness that gets carried along through the tracks.

Overall however, listening to Saltwater you realise that, while the album contains nothing seriously off-putting, you grow tired of Brazos’ style when listening to it.

There are certainly some nice tunes here though it's doubtful if Underground buskers will be swapping them for the likes of Wonderwall and Don't Look Back In Anger in their Christmas run-up repertoire.

Some moments here do veer into the more predictable end of indie-rock territory.

It's a disappointment that their live energy hasn't been replicated on Rise Ye Sunken Ships.

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.

One man's pop is another man's weirdness. And weird, The Third Hand certainly is.

In common with a fair amount of Little Dragon’s previous output though, New Me, Same Us seems to work better in small chunks than as an album as a whole. There’s something about the smooth, glossy sound that means that, after a while, each song seems to merge into one.

Nothing on 24 Karat Gold comes close to classic Fleetwood Mac songs, but long-term fans will delight in hearing decently recorded versions of tracks that they may otherwise only have heard as scratchy demos.

It’s a clear attempt to deliver a more mature, varied work than Nothing Great About Britain, and in that it succeeds. But considering his lofty aspirations, there’s nothing here that others rappers like Dave or Akala – both blessed with greater emotional intelligence, intellectual gravitas and grasp of social and political issues – haven’t done better.

Real Emotional Trash fails--beautifully and melodically, yes, but it fails nonetheless.

It’s an undeniably pleasant background to a warm summer’s day. But, like the output of many of the chillwave notables it resembles, once Headroom has finished playing, precious few details remain lodged in the brain.

It’s that smoothing of Ditto’s edges that prevents Fake Sugar from moving from a good, perfectly serviceable pop album to something truly great.

Overall this disc is a well-made breeze of strong songs and great playing, but the moments of fence-sitting hold it back.

Brian Eno famously stated that "ambient music must be as ignorable as it is interesting". The problem is that, whilst Regional Surrealism certainly succeeds in providing a pleasant musical backdrop, it is rather more the former than it is the latter.

It has some great moments but is probably one to listen to when you want to drift off into a peaceful slumber.

While a few of its tracks are below par, The Constant is a decent first effort. It doesn't put her head and shoulders above the many other female singer-songwriters kicking around at the moment, but it definitely sets her apart from them.

Too often, the same formula appears with uninspiring choruses being too frequent; whilst these short, sharp bursts of fuzzy punk sound great in small doses, this collection will probably find itself confined to the shelf before long, as its longevity may be questionable with little poppy catchiness present.

It will obviously appeal to most long-term Keane fans (even without Rice-Oxley’s trademark tinkly piano chords) but anyone who’s gone through a bit of a tough time in their lives will find this to be comforting succour.

It’s a heavy, lugubrious listen in places but is also the sound of an artist pursuing their art with integrity and investing themselves fully, showing that, while adversity can at times feel all encompassing, there are ways to overcome and find resolution.

A real mixed bag, then--M83 still show plenty of guile and in their best moments present music of hidden power and grace.

No new ground broken. No glo-stick/daft haircut stabs at credibility. Some old haunts revisited. Shameless? Perhaps. Anyone else doing a similar musical pot pourri to such goofed-out, quality chill? No. as the good Dr described it, this is simply a follow-on from their biggest album UFOrb, which was a timeless classic.

Perhaps it's a problem with sequencing, as no doubt some of the acoustically driven material that The Vines compose is glorious, but it always sits difficultly alongside the heavier, angrier stuff that they are better at writing, and more at home playing. It's a problem that has manifested itself on every album, and is more than evident on Melodia.

For one of Black Mountain’s principal strengths is that they don’t just create rock music, they use a lot of different styles alongside it, complementing and contrasting. Unfortunately on IV they lose their essential focus, giving us plenty of style but rather less content.