A pretty decent album with a lot of filler.

Endearingly sorrowful without descending into outright misery, Leaders Of The Free World is exactly what we the listeners should expect from a band's third album.

Musgraves plays up her lyrical prowess to the detriment of the instrumentation, which is crisp but generic and unremarkable. Neither is there much stylistic variety in terms of vocals or even the attitude Musgraves brings to her songs.

A Sufi and a Killer never, ever repeats itself. Gonjasufi’s beautiful, instantaneously classic voice is the glue that holds it all together. It’s captivating.

Campbell’s resplendent tone delights with the plaintive cry of classic torch singers; instead or feeling pity or sympathy, we’re now in the presence of a commanding performer who doesn’t have to sacrifice an inch of naiveté to make an impression.

Dehd are mighty expressive even if their songs are fairly one-note. With the personality thing down pat, imagine what they'll achieve when they continue to expand their scope.

The trio compels you to return to it again and again on Ripped & Torn—it's just that catchy—all while paving the way for the next generation of curious teens who have uncles with cool record collections.

Foals create a testament to their longevity but also consider where this new era is going to take them. Is this Foals’ first front-to-back essential record? Not quite, but with Pt.2 around the corner, it’s surely just a matter of time.

Entrancing in its stillness, Phantom Brickworks solidifies Bibio as an artist of remarkable versatility.

Though The Golden Casket shows Modest Mouse at their most accessible and tuneful, a creative shift that started with 2004's Good News For People Who Love Bad News, they return to some of the experimental aspects that defined so much of their early work.

The result is that most rarefied of things, a Paul album with no throwaways.

Nothing Valley is an intense, hugely engaging listen.

What’s most startling about Clean is how Allison manages her emotions with compassion and a great sense of composure.

If you’ve enjoyed what you’ve heard before, you won’t be disappointed – all the darkness, grime and perversion is here or implied.... But if you’re looking for variation, innovation, or thematic depth, it’s unlikely you’ll find it here.

In Love With Oblivion may only display grey intonations on first impression, but multiple spins begin to unfurl its ghoulish sense of atmosphere.

The effect is stark, and intensely compelling. At 17 tracks long, this is a listen that plumbs substantial depths, but in Blake’s world, time ceases to be a constraint.

A real record of substance. Yes, it has the undeniable single; but boy, the nine tracks either side of that are really something.

Sports Team does have the tunes to match their swagger, and having a sense of humor certainly doesn't hurt.

It's the murkier-in-tone moments that stand out: while The Price Was High emerges with spellbinding dissonance and keeps the tension throughout, A Hitch surrounds its ringing hook with rippling guitar work. Tarantula is poised to become a staple on their future setlists alongside past singles like Winona, on which the band turns up the tempo with a driving melodic groove that satisfyingly fades as soon as it hits.

Don't get it twisted: this isn't a classic. There are a few lame tracks, and Freeway still occasionally stumbles over some dumb rhymes. However, listening to his Ghostface-esque storytelling on Never Going To Change or his Tyson-like intensity on One Thing or even his fear on Money, it isn't had to believe that Free has a great album in him.

The more tastefully formulated tracks just can’t offset the profusion of soppy lyricism and the tedium of weaker songs. Ultimately, Odd Blood reads as a well-informed but poorly executed homage to the ‘80s.

Their burst of creativity comes to life in a lively tapestry of moods, both musically and thematically, but they make sure to balance the fun with genuine sincerity.

It’s promising, but if it catches you in a bad mood, it might cause a headache.

Regardless of its more sophisticated tone, the same cannot be said for the album’s rather callow lyrical content, which doesn’t just border on, but fully embraces, mawkish poetic cliches, which causes one to question if the band is truly willing to insert more of their own growth and experiences into adulthood. Which, in turn, reduces their return as nothing more than just a faithful look into the past.

This compilation isn't for everyone and does contain a few duds. But there are more than enough gems in here to deserve a purchase from any Elbow fan or fanatic.

Her sound is a junksale of clutter and certified gems. I can feel you… is her most sonically sharp weapon to date, and full of plenty to get excited about if you rifle through it.

The songwriting [on Bloom] is rarely stronger [than on previous albums], never different, and more hit-and-miss than I thought Beach House were capable of. It's not their worst record, but it's already their most tired, and that should never, ever happen on a fourth LP. But at least it's pretty.

The English Riviera is a perfectly listenable album, and it's one that will, quite rightly, be the soundtrack to the summers of more than a few, but the often indistinct music and insipid lyrical content mean that it's doubtful if its charms will last through to the autumn.