Their introspective, mainly mid-tempo 11th album is a massive foamy middle-finger to retromania, running elegantly from jangly indie to kraut jabs.

On 'Brilliant! Tragic!' all the usual themes crop up – loving Axl Rose, feeling sexy, the Republic of Sealand – but there's something strangely self-conscious about it all, like the way that Argos is trying to drum up, Big Brother-style, ever-stranger ideas, but without quite believing in them.

The subtle, sleepy, silkily textured likes of 'Pity Love' and the spry, sly 'Just To Make Me Feel Good' are a sweet breeze.

When they're fragile, Looper are precious, when they're whimsical they're plain weedy.

While the beginning of the album struggles, you’ll be hard pushed to find a five-song stretch as flawless as the close out tracks on Ross’ 10th studio album.

They've made a sincere, unironic record about how great life can be if you want it to be.

It’s all so methodically planned that even standout radio-wave surfer ‘Take Back The City’ and producer Jacknife Lee struggle to stamp fresh life into this mega-selling formula.

This stinks of trying too hard.

If you’re a fan of the band’s stoner charm and enjoy guessing lyrics to songs as they meander from your speakers, there’s fun to be had here.

Their debut album is 11 whispered R&B songs, all textured, considered and thoughtfully constructed.

That voice, when she exploits the grit of that Barbadian burr to the max, is more unique and richly textured than ever, and that and her crack production team are all the personality.

The whole album brims with the laidback confidence of someone who knows she's back on top. Britney claims it's her best work yet. She's not wrong.

Interesting but inessential.


Breakfast turns out to be a reasonably hearty meal, definitely sausage and waffles rather than the aural porridge that "alternative hip-hop" summons up.

Minor quibbles aside, however, All I Need is Britain’s pop industry going head-to-head with America’s heaviest hitters, and triumphing.

Still The Boss.

For all there is to grind your teeth and hate about CocoRosie, there's much to love. [8 Oct 2005, p.45]

It's a consistently engaging combination. [18 Feb 2006, p.35]

‘Trip The Mains’, perhaps Webb’s finest composition yet, appears to share its electrifying opening riff with Donna Summer’s disco classic ‘Hot Stuff’, before diving headfirst into a seismic chorus that’d shatter Blondie’s ‘Heart Of Glass’. Elsewhere, the haunting ‘Scream Whole’ begins as a soothing lullaby, before unravelling itself into a doomy slice of noir-pop. This momentum is intermittent though, disappointingly.

It’s safe to say this album messes with our heads. You could do worse than let it mess with yours.

Ultimately, it lacks the variety or the startling sonic leaps that would make it essential. Interesting, but no cigar.

'Tongues' contains some of the most uneasy listening ever.

The most electric and exuberant record he’s made since ‘Up The Bracket’.

As is often the case when a rarefied musician enjoys themself too much though, this is a wildly self-indulgent release; 16-tracks which veer between excellent and average.

Leaves sound zeitgeisty and minty-fresh enough to inject some cold fire into the soft-rocking mainstream.

As it clatters into earshot, the most immediately surprising thing about We Be Xuxa is that it sounds pretty much how you’d expect it to, ie confused, teenage and drunk.

Beneath their notorious humour, 11th studio album Coaster is less angry than previous political witch hunts, but Fat Mike and co still love to offend.

No matter what instruments are used, their weedy, aggro-pop retains the impression that it’s the chosen soundtrack for lifeless 35-year-olds stuck uncomfortably in suburbia.