From someone whose appeal relies so heavily on his openness and honesty, the album feels out of balance: like there's a hole where its heart should be.

When the songs descend into repetitive strummed choruses and tired imagery (“Ain’t it so good to be young in America and watch the world burn”, on ‘If The Moon Rises’) you realise a bit of rock-star pomp could’ve livened things up a little.

Songs schizophrenically jump from A to X, from great to merely good, with scant warning or point.

Winehouse's live performances were (sometimes brutal) indicators of how far she'd gone into her own personal darkness for inspiration. It's perhaps predictable that it's the earliest material here that makes for the less harrowing listen.

Despite its strong start, the sagging back end of ‘Las Ruinas’ unfortunately means that this mixtape isn’t likely to stick in the memory for long – here’s hoping Rico comes back stronger next time.

Former DFA man Tim Goldsworthy has helped them find more sonic sparkle in the production of their second album Dunes, but they nonetheless remain a confused proposition.

It hasn’t completely reinvented the wheel for Hurts, nor has it allowed them to rest on old habits. Instead, it presents them at their most open – and in age of isolation, there’s much to admire in that.

The likes of ‘Little Birds’ and ‘Raining On Your Pillow’ are lullingly linear, driven by routine drum patterns and interchangeable vocal melodies. Depending on your perspective, the sparse instrumentation is either ‘minimalist’ or ‘undercooked’, oscillating between the polarities across the course of this languid collection.

There are moments of brilliance on both records. ... Thematically, ‘Everything Sucks’ and ‘Everything is Beautiful’ fail to deliver anything new.

This latest effort might represent a small progression, but it’s far from an evolution.

Ultimately this record lacks the genuinely interesting shifts that have punctuated Swift’s career so far, from the lyrical excellence on her superior breakup album ‘Red’ to ‘1989’’s pivot to high-octane pop.

Soaring closer ‘The Room It Was’ reminds us that, even after 10 years in the game, there’s enough punch and gusto behind this band to swerve overall disappointment, despite a lack of inventiveness and some lacklustre songwriting. ‘The Shadow I Remember’ undoubtedly packs enough muscle to excite at Cloud Nothings’ return to chaotic live shows.

In truth, of the eight previously unreleased tracks, one is a not-massively-adventurous reshuffle (the Osaka Sun mix of ‘Lovers In Japan’), another a 48-second long incidental piano piece, another the version of ‘Lost!’ that features Jay-Z on autopilot (ie, still quite amazing) but is on the flip of the single.

While musically not as memorable or gripping as we’ve heard from Simz previously, the stripped-back nature does play to Simz’s strength as a very relatable MC, drawing greater attention instead to her rapid-fire rhymes, earworm hooks and thoughtful turns of phrase.

For the most part, the songs furrow a similar path throughout the 20 tracks and, unlike most double albums, which are either loaded with fillers or come in two bloated parts, ‘CYR’ feels like a single complete record crammed full of pop anthems. Pumpkin detractors may well hate this record’s simplicity, and they’d be right to criticise it for sounding same-y to a point. But there’s no denying Corgan’s ability to craft a tune.

The album’s glossy production and lyrical vagueness mean these songs could just as easily be about relationships.

By trading nonsensical time signatures and atonal bursts for fluidity and stadium rock, they've subtracted from their former wretchedness.

The result is well produced and enjoyable, but it would be nice to see personality and innovation--two things The Prodigy rarely lacked--emerge among the Altern-8 tributes.

‘Heartbreak Weather’ pads its way through every different phase of relationship-based grief, inevitably letting some moments of catharsis feel more impactful than others. It isn’t an entirely lost cause, but one to build upon for a more inspiring future all the same.

There’s a lot to like about Turn Blue, but it’s a cruel irony that the heaviest hand in Dan Auerbach’s warts-and-all confessional sometimes seems to belong to his producer.

The record fares better when it shoots for genuine experimentation, like on the weird, spacey ‘Lavish’; otherwise, ‘Clancy’ is more often than not the sound of a band spinning their wheels, caught in a strange space where their colourful conceptual ideas are being painted from a beige musical palette.

'The Sun'... lacks urgency and focus.

It works, up to a point, but means the whole smooth and romantic-sounding affair, though not quite boring, lacks that special spark.

It’s full of clever collaborations and interesting vocal performances; Roddy Ricch has placed himself comfortably in his own lane.

Ultimately, Maximo Park have bravely taken a chance with this album, trying to experiment with their sound rather than settling for what had previously brought them success. Shame they weren't up to the task.

There are moments of brilliance on both records. ... Thematically, ‘Everything Sucks’ and ‘Everything is Beautiful’ fail to deliver anything new.

This is certainly the kind of music punk had to be invented for. It probably won’t make it onto the Radio 1 playlist, but don’t be surprised if something from Stiff pops up on Mid Morning Matters.

This album is covered from head to toe in a cuticle of stylish crap. Underneath, fortunately, there are several redeeming gems. [21 Jan 2006, p.35]