In the end, whether it's a cynical bid for the mainstream or an experiment gone wrong, Riot barely registers as a minor disturbance.

Put simply, this is fantasy pop, performed to perfection.

Not quite double thumbs aloft then, but way fabber than it has any right to be.

Mad as a crate of stoats? Certainly. But worth investigation, all the same.

This album sees him rising from the hordes of spider-black hoodies, becoming a musical force beyond the Download ticket-holders.

His straightest record yet, delving into crunk, rock, drum'n'bass and pop with varying results.

A pop album that comes giddy with detailed digital patterns,

'Ultra Payloaded' is largely sub-U2.

A set of heartbreak hymns to sob come curfew time.

It's easy enough just to drift off and let these tracks gently massage your eardrums like a hover of trained hummingbirds. But if you choose to look beneath the surface, each track audibly vibrates with ideas.

File this under 'disappointing'.

The band now find themselves caught between soft rock and a very hard-to-love place indeed.

Cool cover or not, 'Strange House' is a strong debut from a band who, many sceptics believed, were at their best in front of a camera rather than behind instruments.

Someone needs to tell Wainwright there's a huge difference between 'epic' and 'over-egged'.

'Sky Blue Sky' returns to the original formula with which they made their name.

What follows is the sound of a band trying and failing to forge a new identity - boy-band balladry, U2-style stadium rock and Metallica-esque melodic crunch are all attempted with predictably patchy results.

Dungen are the band The Mars Volta wish they were.

While frontman Matt Davies' transition from apocalyptic yoof-preacher to hoodied motivational speaker will definitely leave listeners with an extended sense of self-belief, the winsome angst that once drove songs such as "Streetcar" has all but disappeared.

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.

'Volta' is another amazing statement of intent - full of hope, eccentricity and wonderfulness.

Their charm lies in the feeling that below the faintly twee, wistful, synthy exterior beats a feisty riot-grrl heart.

What this collection of songs from his mid-'90s creative purple patch shows is that few people in recent times have done sadness so exquisitely.

'The Boy With No Name' is everything you'd expect from a new Travis album and less.

Unfortunately though, Fields never quite reach such dizzy heights on the rest of the album, preferring instead to apply their considerable talents to creating numerous prog-outs that lack the heroic factor of their first single.

If it doesn't quite scale the dizzy heights of 'The Holy Bible' or 'Everything Must Go', it certainly comes close and is, in many ways, the quintessential Manics album - the cathartic regeneration that the band really needed in order to become relevant again.

If you were looking for a new Bowie, Patrick Wolf is proving himself the Thin White Duke's successor in more than just his extravagant dress sense.

They have clawed their way back with an album encapsulating much of what initially made them such an exciting group.

This is an album that sits well alongside classics such as 1987's 'You're Living All Over Me'. In other words: a genuine monster.