While it doesn’t reach the impossibly high standards of their back catalogue, there’s enough promise to suggest there are good times ahead.

And what illuminating revelation do we learn from the half conceived, cottonmouthed rubbish that constitutes ‘Democrazy’? In full: ‘thank Christ Blur usually finish writing their songs before they sell them, otherwise they’d be shit’.

This patchy album shows these sharp-suited Londoners on safe indie territory, but caught in several minds.

Vile, goth-jock pop with all the wit and nuance of a urine-soaked sock.

For an album called Melodia written by a self-confessed Beatles fanatic who once penned the gorgeous ‘Homesick’ and ‘Winning Days’, actual melodies are rare and most, like ‘Hey’ or the turgid ‘She Is Gone’, sound embryonic at best.

Some of Skins is good, some of it is not good. Musically, the tone is, mostly, consistent and effective, and the album’s overall effect is that of a sickly, vivid insight into a troubled life. And there’s not much else to say about it.

Even at best, though, something rings false about Better Than Heavy. It never sounds like a self-funded album made by angry people.

Sure, 'The Weirdness' rarely comes close to capturing the feral magic of the band's best vintage work (even if 'Mexican Guy' is built on the same rhythm as '1969') , but, hey, it's The Stooges - and that should be enough for anyone.

On the whole, this is a mixed bag. ‘LP1’ shows a more grown-up side to the former One Direction member, and cherry-picks from pretty much every genre that’s in vogue right now. The problem is that it doesn’t tell us much about Liam Payne.

For a genre that once sounded astonishingly futuristic, it is quite remarkable how tired and old house sounds now.

Who needs anti-depressants when you have Jesus and schmaltz?

Just when you think they’ve already smithereened the silly barrier, what the world needs most swiftly turns up: Hadouken! go Auto-Tune.

The Queens trio still flow properly and cut a dash.

There are flickers of funky light on the lush old school soul of ‘Ground Zero’ and the Motown-esque ‘Other Side Of Town’, but for the most part it’s all depressingly castrated.

The message is simple: the joke isn’t funny any more, last orders rang long ago and the game is well and truly up.

Over 13 tracks, though, Kreay's 'thing' wears waaay thin.

And Then Boom is the moment the ironic ’80s electro revival finally manages to jump the shark.

In the end, this can't even make you feel angry; just desperately sad. [16 Jul 2005, p.50]

Richard Paul Ashcroft has assembled that most ruggedly authentic of musical backings, a team of LA session players, and walked them through all of his most anodyne default settings, at a deadeningly flat pace.

‘Get Sexy’ sounds like a lazy, latter-day Timbaland joint, and ‘About A Girl’ is a slice of future-house from Lady Gaga’s chum RedOne. But time was we could expect more than bland consistency from the Sugababes--shame.

The Panic Channel... never quite click. [9 Sep 2006, p.37]

Dummy Boy is one of the most unlistenable rap records of this year. ... He’s delivered a bland project. Often, it’s as though he took what was in his drafts folder and released it as a “studio album.”

A record that sometimes hits the target but rarely leaves a lasting impression.

When he emerged from his stupor, he announced that he was giving up rap to make a guitar album. Which brings us to ‘Rebirth’, a shlock-rock record so absurd it makes Alien Ant Farm seem like a legitimate musical venture.

Famous First Words sounds less like a manifesto, more like a misguided step-by-step guide.

Their new stuff is – at best – like a minutely less-annoying Staind.

Young Rebel Set are as comfortable and enjoyable as a Mumford-wool blanket, but when was the last time you got really excited by a woolly blanket?

While Happy Families’ snappy sludge hints at a slight reprieve, the jingle-jangle whimsy of Larry Lizard is a tired reminder that there’s only one crime worse than being outright bad--and that’s being as mind-numbingly banal as this.