The Brooklyn duo's fifth album is less pan-pipe chill-out and more a brooding and oppressive morass of sound akin to a shamanistic Zola Jesus.

The Amazons will do little to dispel any of the criticisms of the current state of rock, but there’s just enough here to suggest that when the band are at their most electrifying, not much can halt their inevitable rise to the top--despite what the old guard say.

Grey Britain has important things to say, but due to the lack of any direction or mission, it allows itself to be eaten up by the anger that fuels it.

The first thing that strikes you about Tricky's sixth album is how, despite the size of the project - the collaborators, the much-trumpeted 'new directions', the very fact that this is the new Tricky album, fergawdsakes - it manages to sound so underwhelming.

The prevailing air understatement doesn’t detract from Making Time, but it does mean it just peters out. Woon could have done with pursuing the harder edge of ‘Movement’ a bit more. But he does things his own way and, for the most part, that’s a very good thing.

Sure, sometimes it verges into the sickly saccharine (‘Through It All’ nicks a piano line from Randy Newman and some Disney strings, and drops a sticky vocal line on top of them, and collab with American folk singer James Taylor ‘Change’ is a dreary cliché) but then there are the moments of pop brilliance.

Occasionally. the jaunty positivity treads too far into Edward Sharpe territory and all you’re left craving is a healthy slice of cynicism.

The Auto-Tune and teenage love stuff don't entirely ruin a surprisingly weighty return.

If there's a problem, it's that... it all sounds rather familiar and comfortable. [22 Jan 2005, p.51]

[It] can't top the early stuff. [5 Aug 2006, p.29]

An oddball pleasure.

Despite the occasional flashes of brightness, it sounds like they’ve taken that brief (an homage to the mundanities of love) to heart.

'Trust Me’ works, kinda, by doing R&B without palely imitating US fare: take ‘Hot Stuff’, smooth ’80s dance-pop that makes game use of Bowie’s ‘Let’s Dance’.

Given the somewhat disjointed making of this record – a journey that stretches from 2017 to mid-lockdown – it lacks the cohesiveness of recent material. The songs origins, however, have come from a completely different place for Morby, one more instinctive and reflective, as he jots down snapshots and musings eloquently into a handy piece of kit. Given that it kickstarted a new exploration in his songwriting, the resulting project is still worth savouring.

His taste for sonic jumble can be overwhelming.

This fifth album is a relatively sedate affair.

A twisted, mucky treat. [15 Apr 2006, p.35]

The resultant album is exactly what you’d expect from this mix of personnel.

A strange record, but an intriguing planet to get sucked into.

It's like Scissor Sisters on tranquilisers. With a bit of ELO. And a dash of Ramones. And, with this eclecticism, a worrying lack of focus. [5 Jun 2004, p.57]

Though not quite closure, ‘Lost Wisdom Pt. 2’ is the sound of Mount Eerie reaching clarity.

Despite the air of musical schizophrenia, 'Intensive Care' is OK in a sort of karaoke way. [22 Oct 2005, p.43]

It's a hit and miss affair.

While Tyranny is wildly self-indulgent--and often at the expense of quality - you could never say that it's boring.

‘Honestly, Nevermind’ is an unexpected elevation from the bland trap, R&B remakes and Drake’s melancholic attitude to love we heard last time around. He doesn’t quite shift the latter as much as one would hope – the album is as tiresomely woe-is-me as anything he’s ever done – but the house sound has at least given him the creative boost that his recording career has been crying out for recently.

Despite its glimpses of greatness, though, this album revisits too many of the rapper’s trademark themes to truly make good on his jubilant pre-release promises.

It's good to have them back--but only just.

The music of Amplifying Host blends baked American blues with the ghosts of this island's folk tradition to wonderful effect, especially on 'Tessellations', which is like coming across a bedraggled family cooking beans around a campfire in the tinder-dry ruins of what was once a chocolate-box timber-framed cottage.