At its best, the album is a selection of polished and inoffensive pop songs, but at its worst, it’s forgettable.

At its most cute, on the sublime ‘Intrusive Thoughts’, it’s a gauzy roll in summer hay, but when the guitars start to scowl it quickly turns from fey to feral.

Non-conforming, ‘The Off-Season’ is a little bit off in places and its steadiness can be one-note, but it’s still a strong piece technically. You might not play this album every day, but it would still be a strong record for J. Cole to end on.

Their careers adviser-flouting debut is in the mould of the greats rather than carving a new sound.

A collection of offcuts revamped in the industrial style that has characterised his recent work--isn't [a latter-day masterpiece that will spread his appeal beyond his hyper-devoted fanbase].

While this record is unlikely to bring the band or the cultural touchstones they cover back to the top, it’s a soul-searching move that satisfies their own fandom while showing they’ll never compromise.

It’s true that in parts Battle For The Sun, Placebo’s [sixth] studio album, will give the open-minded/easily-fooled aspartame butterflies in the stomach, methadone iris dilation and nicotine-patch heart tremors.

Aside from hollering his name or catchphrases--“Another one!”, “Bless up!”, “We The Best Music!”--there’s no doubt Khaled’s formidable connections were the driving force behind Grateful. But, even with a dream team like this assembled, Khaled hasn’t located the ‘major key’ to the masterpiece he desired.

This LP could have injected some creativity back into 4/4, instead it settles for quaintness.

The result: essential listening for members of the Lambily – Carey’s famously loyal fanbase – and an intriguing, sometimes fascinating artefact for everyone else.

From the brief flamenco break in the pummelling ‘Night Night Burn’ and the doomy guttural rumblings of ‘In The Name Of’ to the horns-up thrash anthemics of ‘Distortion’, ‘Metal Galaxy’ is a wild ride that, through its sheer energy, is somehow infectiously accessible.

Will only sound sweeter as summer draws nearer. [19 Mar 2005, p.59]

What White has done with ‘Fear Of The Dawn’, in fact, is row his experimental tendencies back a little, as if to meet the desires of his audience halfway. Unfortunately, that can make large chunks of the ensuing record a confused and purposeless mess.

Breezy and club-ready standout ‘What’s Next’ isn’t too dissimilar to ‘Laugh Now, Cry Later’; the quietly simmering ‘Wants and Needs’, which features a glittering star turn from Lil Baby, evokes some of the more brooding parts of ‘Scorpion’; and ‘Lemon Pepper Freestyle’ is the kind of exuberant freestyle cut that we know Drake likes to close his projects with.

Not quite double thumbs aloft then, but way fabber than it has any right to be.

It all adds up to an overlong, slightly repetitive but ultimately compelling album of two halves.

Missteps are few. Instead of taking a battle-axe to what came before, ‘WOMB’ refines Purity Ring even further. The subtle experiments pay off – even if you may sometimes wish they’d surprise you more.

Experimenting with different vocal registers and taking advantage of how harmoniously her voice goes with live instruments, she’s shared a collection that should leave you itching for her next step. If these are loosies, it’s proof of how top-notch her craft is.

It is pleasant, and largely forgettable.

The Seduction Of Kansas is a fun, dancey funk-punk record that benefits from Congleton’s lightness of touch, proof that you can step outside your comfort zone and maintain your sense of self.

On their third release Asobi Seksu have toned down the fuzz’n’raunch of old and come over all Cocteau Twins-y and mature--not necessarily a bad thing, just quite a bit less visceral.

There are simply too many stodgy slowies. [13 Nov 2004, p.57]

He has some bangers, despite being pretty hit or miss. This second stab at musical longevity is exactly what it says on the label: all over the place. But at this point in his musical career, that’s not necessarily a bad thing.

These are well-penned tunes. They just don’t do anything special with them.

Covering so much ground (‘Hydrate’ even bridges dubstep and reggae) means the album lacks a clear narrative or overarching theme.

To be clear, the good outweighs the bad here, but Tinie has lost a lot of the charm that, when he turns it on, makes him so appealing.

It’s only when he plays to his strengths that On My One comes into its own.