The fact that these titans of the US underground have collectively hoovered enough drugs and booze (and clocked enough jail time) to make Pete Doherty sit up and wonder makes their sheer longevity something to be marvelled at.

Overall, though ‘Heligoland’ is a puzzling and frustrating listen. Some good tracks can’t hide the fact that this is the stuff of an identity crisis. It’s one thing to call on your famous friends to put flesh on your bones. It’s another if you leave the listener wondering if you’ve any spine at all.

It's a compelling, if far from satisfying, album: the awkward work of a man confronting mortality, global meltdown and fractionally diminished success, but still terrified of appearing pretentious, still stuck with singalong tunes in his head.

The style is cool, the moves perfect, but you can take as much of lasting value from a stick of gum as you can from these dank-basement stomps.

While the singles released for ‘Model’ were strong and lively, the album as a whole sounds like a band that has withdrawn from taking a risk and stepping back into their comfort zone.

It's music for downhearted cattle rustlers to mournfully skin steers to. [9 Apr 2005, p.58]

Surf City spend the first third of Kudos hanging out with that same apathetic throng, but then surprise with a handful of genuinely exciting moments.

Clocking in at a slither under 77 minutes, ‘Everything I Thought It Was’ is a slog enlivened by some surprising moments.

It's the unflashy moments that really linger, though, with "Taco Delay's" measured minimalism providing some grounding to an otherwise heady trip.

This, then, is AOR: Adult Orientated Rap. Luckily, though, Jay-Z still turns out work of impressive authority.

You just can’t shake the feeling that the whole thing is just far too safe. You can’t blame team Adele for following a formula that has so far resulted in 30 million album sales--but here’s to a little more innovation on ‘29’.

Robbie Furze and Milo Cordell's second album isn't done for by a lack of ambition, but rather the imagination required to realise it.

The results are varied, but this is just one frame of a much bigger picture of Jin’s solo career – one where he will undoubtedly continue to grow and prosper the more he leans into what suits him best.

Ultimately, it’s confusion that remains at the end of Amnesty (I). Crystal Castles always were an uncomfortable band, but the bumpy conception of this album and the awkward introduction of new ideas dampen even its most teeth-chattering moments.

To the ears of their detractors, Courteeners will always sound unexceptional, but in the eyes of the faithful, Mapping the Rendezvous will only make them more irreplaceable.

Even if ‘Painless’ occasionally settles into a consistent, thudding groove at times, when Yanya goes full pelt, she’s at her very best.

His many personas have made for an oddly characterless record.

The moments of imperfection that let the album down come on ‘Two Of Us On The Run’ (as basic as acoustic songwriting gets) and ‘Until We Get There’ (just sounds like a Cults offcut), but there’s promise here.

This is glossy Americana, mixing The Avett Brothers with Edward Sharpe And The Magnetic Zeros, its piano- and violin-led crescendos emulating old-timey grandeur.

‘The Whale Song’ may offer a solitary crumb for old skool Micers to nibble, but unfortunately this EP will not offer much else.

Musgraves’ assertiveness feels like a real glimmer of light amid the sparse compositions that run through this thoughtful, imperfect, down-to-earth record.

It’s a pairing that, on paper, makes sense, given that Depper’s talents with a synthesiser leave Thank You for Today feeling like a more polished version of 2011’s ‘Codes & Keys’. Yet the wide-eyed freshness of that new songwriting pairing leaves things feeling a little too shiny.

It’s a pleasant listen, but this feels strange juxtaposed with the lyrical content that flits between brazen vulnerability and all-out raunch-fest, demanding something more. As an introduction to the next era of Grande’s career, it’s solid, but you can’t help but feel it’s missing some of her trademark sparkle.

Second album ‘Cry’ sees the band not stray too far from proven formula of slow and sexy sadness, but this time with a little more love thrown in and all held together by a more filmic approach.

Blips aside, ‘Rare’ is a beautifully confident return from one of pop’s most underrated stars, and a quietly defiant wrestling back of the narrative surrounding her.

Seventh Tree is bound to ruffle a few electro-feathered fans, but there’s no denying it’s a venture that sets the pair into new experimental territory.

For the most part, though, you’ll need to look elsewhere for your protest music. This is escapist rap, as outlandish and oversized as a gaudy Spiderman comic--and, at times, just as much absurdist fun.

Welcome Home offers both a different approach and a welcome return.