Black Francis has brewed up a pretty thirst-quenching prospect with Petits Fours’ the debut album from this new venture with his wife.

Without the gritty substance of the first album, it has all the depth of a packet of peanuts.

It's good in flashes but frighteningly unstable.

Welcome To The Walk Alone may have the skeletal blueprint of pop genius running through it like words in a stick of rock but it verges on insulting.

Synth-heavy disco and boogie, sleek Italo and plenty of New Order course equally through their veins; the duo spin a heavily thumbed vinyl library into something largely fresh, and even coax '70s smoove-rocker Michael McDonald into guesting at the end.

The jangle and thrash of Terry Bickers’ guitar and the wistful air of it all could come straight from their self-titled 1988 debut.

It seems Paradinas' real talents lie behind the scenes.

For the most part, Model Of You pushes Cloud Boat out into broader, more turbulent waters.

Yusuf now far more believably inhabiting the role of the kindly dad offering his offspring life advice, while ‘On The Road To Find Out’ showcases the most impressive transformation, weaving in North African desert sounds against steadfast lyrics of self-discovery. It suggests that Yusuf has now finally found just what he was looking for all those years ago.

An obsession with sex that's rarely heard outside Lil Wayne albums is combined with the woozy sizzurp lilt of A$AP Rocky and his own stunningly sinister devil's whisper delivery to create something remarkably dark and original.

At times its Cure guitars, thudding drums and eerie vocals get lost amid the fog (‘In The Mirror’, ‘South’). But when it finds a solid rock stomp, as on ‘Crest’ or ‘Raptor’, 2:54 loom like a monster in the mist.

Ultimately, from start to finish, you know what you've ordered: proficient, precision-executed blues-rock with few genuine surprises.

It’s the ‘meh’ shruggable moments of filler around them that dog the consistency of ‘Wallop’. There’s not the high-octane fuel or direction to take the record to the heights that it so constantly teases.

One Thousand Pictures is pop in a tar-pit--black and sticky, but wonderfully pure at heart.

Howling Bells aren't back to their best, but they're within touching distance.

Production comes from Steve Albini but here, unlike his work with (well, wouldn't you know) PJ Harvey and Slint, his less-is-more approach is the only point of weakness on an otherwise impressively dramatic record.

Turns out bringing his [Glyn Johns] old-school rock'n'roll expertise into the southern-fried fold makes for a perfect match.

They do propulsive pop-rock better than anyone. [11 Nov 2006, p.43]

This is a record that wraps itself around you like a kohl-eyed Winona Ryder in an early-'90s slacker movie and doesn't let go for a solid, dream-like 40 minutes.

The Sounds pick up where White Rose Movement faded out, with their melange of sussed Scandi cool, new wave pop pout, and Killers-style synth mayhem.

They mean well, but there’s something conservative about them.

Strange Creatures is an audacious and gratifying return that makes you want to envelope yourself in its gloom.

Musically, the album hits in all the right spots, solidifying their expertise at penning sunny, earnest Radio 2-core. And when they deviate from the easier path, most notably on the slow, deeply sombre ‘Strange Room’, which sees Chaplin’s voice take on a genuinely affecting, downtrodden lower tone, ‘Cause and Effect’ begins to exist as more than a comeback album for the sake of a comeback album.

Backed up by producer 30 Roc, Big Papito and Boi-1da, this 15 -rack album is sometimes ‘big’ and sometimes ‘clever’, but occasionally goes awry.

It all adds up to a thoroughly enjoyable listen that confirms what fans already know: even a middle-of-the-road Dolly Parton album has lashings of charm.

Carnation restores some of the eerie, discombobulated feel of his debut.

Yung Lean’s music has always been more interesting than it is good. ‘Starz’ features just enough captivating moments to prevent him – now an unexpected seven years into his career – from feeling played-out.

Ultimately, though, ‘Come Ahead’ may have a whole lot of funk on its surface but still packs oodles of punk and grenades of protest in its trunk.