They return to their roots for the addictive ’90s swing of ‘Make U Love Me’ but--frustratingly--after the sultry ‘Summer Rain’ the album quickly slips off piste. ‘Who Hurt Who’ is a wet Disney ballad, while the limp dancehall and incessant pitch-shifting of ‘Ratchet Behaviour’ grates. Third time lucky it might not be, but it’s not a million miles away.

Despite some misfires--notably 'Blue Neck Riviera', which features a strange programmed hip-hop beat and a Diiv-style jangle accompanied by some semi-rapped verses--it's an admirable listen.

While there was an endearing humility to Smith's work, this dour offering provides little comfort.

A naggingly problematic record, with a void at its heart that no amount of cool celebrity mates can quite conceal.

The record isn’t weighed down by its ideas--it could just do with a filter, a producer with more sway, or even someone in the process to say: “Actually Jaden, mate--most trees are green.”

Two properly good moments out of five isn’t a great ratio, but at least it’s telling us that The Men’s wagon is still rollin’ steady.

Scissor Sisters sound under so much pressure to follow up a monster hit that they're not actually having any fun.

The ideas in ‘Songs For The General Public’ are rich, creative and often funny, but its musical staying power is lacking.

While it's interesting to hear Grace pour his heart out on 'All Of The Future (All Of The Past)' in a pained fashion, it makes for a record that doesn't really demand repeated listens.

While charming, Albumin suffers from a distinct lack of harmony.

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

The finest line here is the one between effortless thrash-pop and Slowdive's arse, and My Vitriol just tripped over it.

Go To School, feels less like a night on Broadway and more like being dragged along to an amateur performance at your local village hall. It’s charming and full of heart, but you’ll be grimacing all the way through it.

It may not be game-changing and it'll be slaughtered by those who have a hatred of hipsters/fun. But it's harmless entertainment, and London gets full marks for what he's best at--experimentation.

If 'It's Never Been Like That' is a failure, at least it's not a boring one. [20 May 2006, p.31]

Cornershop’s cult is one you’ve either already signed over your seventh-born to or will watch pass you by with a fascinated bemusement.

Some isolated moments make you want to vom a bit--Groove Armada trombone on ‘Many Rivers’--but ‘Love Inc’ neatly reworks a snatch of Lil Louis’ house classic ‘Club Lonely’ into insistent Balearica, and you can’t argue with that.

What Happens Next is a distracted listen--an experimental Gill production that should be out under his name only.

Rise Ye Sunken Ships is actually pretty great, but guys, just dial it down a bit yeah?

Nelson’s [voice] still boasts a lightness of touch. He might be a soulful elder statesman, but there’s a perkiness to his version of cult outlaw songwriter Billy Joe Shaver’s 1981 track ‘We Are The Cowboys’, which celebrates the multiculturalism of the American cowboy.

Okkervil River comes into its own when he forces some particularly oblique and unique strategies into practice.

There's certainly nothing here that'll match 'Wonderwall' or 'Live Forever' for pub karaoke ubiquity, but with this record Oasis are at least tentatively stretching themselves in new directions. [28 May 2005, p.61]

Musically ‘Walls’ is a largely conservative album; it’s primarily guitar-led and rarely experiments. ... The album is padded out with a string of forgettable – though not unenjoyable – acoustic whimsies. ... There are the foundations here for a rewarding future.

There’s definitely a nod to new Nashville here--however, we’re talking more Mumford & Sons if they started songwriting for Justin Bieber than the grit and guts of Waylon Jennings or the current king of classic country, Sturgill Simpson.

In some ways ‘Traditional Tools’ is a welcome return to form, but the album isn’t nearly as innovative or as introspective as it makes itself out to be.

These overly earnest lines [in ‘Weathered,’ ‘My House Is Your Home,’ and ‘Surprise Yourself’] do a disservice to Garratt’s talents as a musician and producer, because the artful melodies and textures on Phase really do shine.

Dr Alex Paterson and co are open for business again, plying their dubby squiggles, electronic bubblebaths and trippy soundbites to the next generation of cosmic travellers. It’s well worth a dip.

The demo vocals she’d already recorded are pretty much album-ready, their slightly unpolished edge even helping throw back to the band’s 1992 debut album ‘Everybody Else Is Doing It, So Why Can’t We?’, home to the immaculate-if-overplayed ‘Linger’. It’s rare indeed that a farewell brings a career so neatly full-circle.