At its best, the record builds on some of the weirder elements in Hot Chip, but at its worst spirals into self-indulgence.

‘Shadow Offering’ is an intriguing, if slightly scattered, listen.

If 'America's Sweetheart' was a breakdown record, 'Nobody's Daughter' is a recovery album. As that analogy would suggest, it's not always pretty to witness.

It's neither exhilarating nor challenging, but it is a solid and energetic work, imbued with an unambiguous love of old-time rock.

While it’s a step down from both "VV" and his Danger Mouse work, it at least might be his definitively stoned record.

He’s a unique talent, no doubt, and has once again made a work on his terms. It’s at times an exasperating listen, but that’s kind of the point.

Sparks and fireworks go off all over ‘Typical Music’ too and, bar a few inevitable misfires, there’s plenty to gasp at.

The lustiness of his Bob-cat yowl on warm and well-weathered numbers such as 'King Of Spain' makes 'The Wild Hunt' a refreshingly clean listen....Ambitious? No. Delicious? Yes.

His music has always had as much empathy as it has had political fire, and it’s the former that dominates here. ... It makes for a record that can occasionally get exasperating in its lack of momentum. ... Yet it is also album that leaves plenty of room for nuanced, compassionate songwriting that never loses grip of its sense of empathy.

For the most part, ‘-‘ feels like a warm but cautious hug from a sensitive friend – Dessner gives Sheeran space to say what’s on his mind without trying to crowd him. ... But most of ‘-’ is doggedly one-paced, an often drawback of Dessner’s mellow production stylings.

The album is eclectic, unapologetic and, at times, a little lost in its own spectacle.

Sure, there’s a residual whiff of mediocrity here, but Carl’s clearly found something else in himself as part of this new gang, and as Dirty Pretty Things’ music grows in assurance, it appears Pete will remain a solitary man for some time yet.

They’re not reinventing the wheel, but pulling the Harley out of the ditch.

The initial feeling that this album is destined to be one of their many jokey, disposable ventures dissipates slightly as Osborne’s near-peerless ability with a brain-alteringly great riff takes hold.

At best, these are semi-finished rejects from 'The W'...

It's thrilling. It's pantomime. It's what Ross does best.

Many of the guests are of the squeaky-clean variety--Ella Eyre and Sinead Harnett will be deemed edgy by almost no one – while two Lianne La Havas-sung numbers tackle bossa nova (‘Needn’t Speak’) and slinky disco (‘Breath’). Still, Rudimental know when to light the fireworks.

While her words don’t always deliver, ‘Petrichor’ stands best when her emotionality and innovative soundscape take hold.

‘A Written Testimony’ is a 39-minute, 10-track project that offers all the usual Jay Electronica tropes: complex rhyming patterns, double and triple entendre, lyrics across various languages laid over psychedelic production with minimal drums. Electronica excels on a technical level throughout. Yet, while this is the most anyone has heard from him musically in over a decade, there’s a sense of reticence throughout the LP.

The comparatively featureless pessimism on the rest of the album makes for an oppressive and often dull listen. It’s a shame, because underneath it all, Lord Huron are making lusher and more varied sounds than ever.

So, even the fact that these 29 tracks, including 3 remixes, have sometimes been re-produced, re-jigged and finely honed production-wise doesn't diminish the original effort involved.

Alas, it tails off towards the end, and TBS never quite shake the feeling that other people are doing this sort of thing far more thrillingly elsewhere. [20 May 2006, p.33]

As I Am sees the piano songstress breaking free of her saccharine chains and delivering a streetwise, smoky set of real soul.

While they’re not bringing anything musically innovative to the table, they’ve re-packaged the sounds in a way that feels distinctly 21st Century. It’s extremely good fun and presented without pretence – and that feels like enough.

On a scale of Speech Debelle to Klaxons, they're more towards the Gomez end of the list. Definitely loveable. Largely inessential.

'The Private Press' isn't a remarkable record - it lacks that startling and instinctive excitement capable of pushing music into the realm of the era-defining.

Musically it’s akin to the recent Neon Neon album, but Kilfoyle’s musings on romance and class are all his own.

‘Quarter Life Crisis’ moves between moods that translate to bright, Day Glo colours (‘Kid Genius’) or dark goth accents (‘Die Alone’). But the former can often turn grating.