For Manson fans this is familiar territory: the same mechanical riffs, same whisper/scream vocals heard on his regular stream of albums. Here, most songs are entertaining rather than groundbreaking. Occasionally they’re neither.

An album that not only fudges golden opportunities, but finds this band's whole modus operandi laid embarrassingly bare. [15 Jan 2005, p.42]

Though these are often beautiful and uneasy songs, too many of them feel rudderless.

Yet it all hangs inexplicably together, thanks to heavy doses of charm and wit, its ability to propel your emotions from thrilled to weepy to lovelorn in a trice--and the promise that Kiran Leonard might grow into a properly important figure in British rock.

On the evidence of this stunning piece of music, we'd all do well to give a bit more of ourselves over to the machine.

The prevailing air understatement doesn’t detract from Making Time, but it does mean it just peters out. Woon could have done with pursuing the harder edge of ‘Movement’ a bit more. But he does things his own way and, for the most part, that’s a very good thing.

It's a fine album, but signposts a possible future rather than taking us there directly.

It's still party music, but for a different kind of party.

As debuts go, True Romance is an astonishing statement of intent – if they’ve got any more ideas left after the 10 tunes here we could have a rather special band on our hands.

Obits create the same buzz in your brain that was almost certainly present the first time you heard The Hives or The Vines, the feeling which had you so giddy that you perfected excitement wees to rival a puppy (probably). This time, though, it’s not bratty whipper-snappers but a fine veteran taking the lead.

Their vision is so focused on piano and guitar tone and so opposed to the notion of tunefulness that MGMT’s new stuff seems like ‘Motown Chartbusters 3’ in comparison.

Cool cover or not, 'Strange House' is a strong debut from a band who, many sceptics believed, were at their best in front of a camera rather than behind instruments.

Although it can be overblown, Sean’s passion is unreserved here, the record peppered with Instagram-worthy captions that urge listeners to take inspiration from their surroundings while keeping friends and family close.

Fans of whiskey-drenched, feedback-fuddled blues-rock, form an orderly line.

A melodic masterpiece of boldly indignant malevolent spite.

It might have taken a decade, but this feels like grime finally beginning to grasp its vast potential.

It’s still occasionally a bit too ‘nice’ for its own good, but in a cynical world, sometimes a little hope and buoyancy doesn’t go amiss.

What saves that song ["Slow Motion"] , and indeed the album as a whole, is Monica Martin's honeyed voice; it's full of soul, even when the arrangements aren't.

This is BSP in fine, if not exactly boundary-shoving, form.

As thrilling as Gwen, as badass as MIA. [17 Jun 2006, p.37]

It’s Dionysian disco: dynamic, decadent and utterly brilliant.

It’s ultimately toothless.

It's frustrating, because when they quit mucking about, The Hidden Cameras have the power to produce songs that tickle your heart. [10 Jul 2004, p.49]

As uncharismatic as its creator, it's certainly boring, but no more so than anything Richard Ashcroft has come up with.

But while Gray's voice is still beguiling and unique, The Id is basically Brit-award winning, corporate soul with little identity, too cosy and calculated to have any genuine depth.

Like his predecessors', the results here are decidedly mixed.

‘ELE 2’ finds Busta Rhymes reseated at hip-hop’s top table – until the world comes to an end, of course.

Death From Above still pack a punch, but the bruise is a lot more colourful this time. ‘Is 4 Lovers’ is surely the band’s best work since their debut. And while they may never feel that vital again, they make right now feel like one helluva rush.