This barrage of generalised morality is cozened by overwrought production that sees the sun-baked reggae backbone of his previous efforts stripped out to make way for a confusing hotch-potch of styles and an overwhelming sense of desperation.

The musical results feel more like a touristy package holiday through Jamaican dub history.

They've stuck the bleeps on autopilot, the beats on cruise control, and can only be bothered writing a handful of half-decent tunes. [5 Feb 2005, p.50]

'Rudebox' is not 'Robbie Williams the serious artiste', but it is an amazing pop album.

On first listen sound[s] like someone taking the piss out of The Rapture. [11 Sep 2004, p.57]

It's difficult to believe Limp Bizkit could return after all this time somehow even more hateful than before.

He's only gone and come back. And improved, actually: we counted two more hits than "Back To Bedlam." Be very afraid.

Technically accomplished and assured record, which doesn’t do a massive amount to deviate from the template of Catfish’s debut.

Like Eminem, Williams is desperate to give his own spin on tabloid coverage and determined to prove himself as human as the rest of us, but incapable of letting us forget he's a star. Except Eminem is the voice of a generation while Robbie Williams is just the voice of Robbie Williams, and while Eminem has Dre, Robbie has a ramshackle posse of musicians roped in to create this album's (wait for it) 'spontaneous' live sound.

Weighed down by star power, which eclipses Pop Smoke, ‘Faith’ feels more disingenuous than its predecessor.

Well-meaning and positive, ‘Zoom In’ is the aural equivalent of wishing somebody a ‘Happy Hump Day!’ over email, while wearing a daft grin. For all its flaws, this is a hard record to hate.

Doomed to lurk unplayed at the back of your collection. [2 Oct 2004, p.64]

Needless to say, it's totally fucking rubbish.

While DONDA certainly isn’t a rushed job, it could have benefitted from West spending a little less time on it and learning when to let things go. Nobody needs all 27 of these tracks, but dig deep into its contents and you’ll find enough gems to make his 10th album worth your time.

For All The Dogs- his third solo LP in as many years – not only feels tiring, but sounds tired too.

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.

While most of Matinée will fade away into your brain faster than a pair of his danced-out Nikes, there is a shadow of a hint of a suggestion that there’s something more to Jack Peñate than rapidly-dissolving indie-pop sugar.

Trouble is, although forced to move on, Howlett had nowhere particular to go, and so much of this album sees him squatting on the floors of other acts. [14 Aug 2004, p.47]

'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’.

Overall it just about balances out.

With a swelling back catalogue, it’s becoming increasingly clear what does and doesn’t work for Yachty’s solo output: skippable braggadocious freestyles? No. Endearing and experimental takes on hip-hop that demonstrate his more individualistic approach to being a major rap artist? Yes please.

‘The Balcony’ is informed both by their struggle and their noughties indie elders. All this adds up to a dated sound.

Far from the unpredictable genius of old, it seems that Rivers Cuomo has returned lacking both edge and sparkle.

What compensates for 'Keys To The World''s shortcomings... is that voice. [21 Jan 2006, p.33]

Sure, 'J.Lo' is competent, but like Lopez's voice, it lacks sincerity and warmth.

In simple terms, then, the third Razorlight album is utter, utter cobblers.

The unfortunate irony is that Sounds From Nowheresville doesn't sound much like a grand rejection of pop music at all. It just sounds a little bereft of ideas, and way too short.

Mostly it's just a heavily lacquered drone, an album so restrained as to sound almost calculated. [29 Jan 2005, p.58]