Nichols's gravelly vocals are more immediate and heartfelt than ever, especially on the dark, ruefuI I Woke Up In New Orleans, about self-destructive alcoholism. Lighter subject matter works less well (the pleasant ditty I'm In Love With A Girl, the lacklustre Throwback No. 2) but has enough southern soul to keep things interesting.

The album is missing an emotional, drawn-out, heartbreaking ballad, but inspirational anthems like Retreat! find her sassing as loud and proud as ever.

Kid Koala might be known for his light-hearted approach, but nothing here feels inappropriately kooky.

In lieu of artistry or any semblance of lyrical spark, DST offers monotonous production and relentless chanting.

Galactic’s Ya-Ka-May works as a concept album, but its execution ranges from grating to tolerable.

This much material is exhausting to make your way through, the stretches between moments of genius way too long.

Georgia evokes a skittering, glazed-over slice of up-all-night club life on her moody, uneven debut.

You'll want to let the whole record play, but Refill, Land Ahoy! and Mekons' anthemic Beaten And Broken (sung by Fulks) are highlights.

Individually, the songs are absorbing, but when listened back to back, they begin to lose their magic.

On Hot Dreams he’s wisely pulled back from that horror film soundtrack vibe to let the songs breathe.

Despite ups and downs, Suede have remained an impressively robust-sounding live act, and that energy comes across in Night Thoughts.

Mangan's emotive voice is as assured as ever, and his socially conscious lyrics penetrate. Add in a stark, disillusioned tone and sluggish tempos and it makes for an overly serious listen.

Unfortunately, all the intricately picked little guitar figures don't make his raspy yelping sound any less like a wet cat stuck under a couch.

Give A Glimpse Of What Yer Not is 45 new minutes of Mascis's solid-gold shredding, but there has never been less to hang it on. The hooks that bracket the bouts of soloing are almost instantly unmemorable and the chord structures uninspired.

Lyrically Ditto is in top form, striking a sage tone to dish out relationship advice (I Wrote The Book), console a friend (Do You Need Someone) and reprimand an ex-lover (Open Heart Surgery).

Occasionally a lick of whimsical Irish poetry sneaks in (Earthly Pleasures), but lyrically O’Brien’s going for something more vague and profound.

This is an album about feeling good, and the freewheeling abandon .Paak brings to his delivery is matched by Knxwledge, who keeps up with him by absorbing as many sounds, voices, eras and influences as he can.

It’s more polished than most S-K albums, but it’s still a flurry of frenetic chords, caustic drum beats and yelps and hisses from Carrie Brownstein and Tucker. Clark gave The Center Won’t Hold a very modern filter and sheen, but Sleater-Kinney still set the tone.

A couple of lifeless slower numbers bring the album to a crawl midway through, but they ultimately add balance to all the smart, uptempo rockers.

If this were purely an experimental electronic album, we'd overlook the lack of hooks, but even as such it's not particularly impressive.

The album contains some of her best lyrics.

There are some great garage rock tunes, but too much filler to make for a great album. Maybe they should have trimmed a few of the 16 songs for a shorter but stronger work.

Tim McGraw's country-radio-friendly production weighs down the disc.... McKenna sounds best stripped down and rough around the edges. Both her voice and writing deserve more modest frames.

The album is as focused as its predecessor (both are 45 minutes), but it is emotionally more expansive.

The quietness is also the project’s greatest weakness. At times, it leaves the album feeling incomplete or intrusive, as if we’re peeking in mid-thought.

El-P's progressive beats here are full of driving, distorted drum sounds and rough samples; futuristic b-boy shit that walks a fine line between funky and grating.

Ortega is more convincing when she leaves the music biz out.

It’s odd that he doesn’t mind how much he’s starting to sound like the Black Crowes. Still, overall quality remains high, making this a more solid listen than some White Stripes albums.