Swanlights is curiously one-note, occasionally self-indulgent and fails to leave a strong impression. Or perhaps Hegarty's simply raised the bar impossibly high for himself.

The results are exactly what fans of either act would hope for and a pleasant surprise for those who'd given up on both of them.

What makes this work so beautifully is that the sound is completely unique and modern and yet couldn't be confused for anyone else.

Public Strain is front-loaded with some of the more patience-testing tunes, but stick with it to discover some astonishing beauties.

Ronson approaches pop almost like a hip-hop producer. He's assembled a cavalcade of guest collaborators too numerous to name, but for the most part his focus keeps Record Collection from feeling overcooked.

This time around, the lo-fi quality is less abrasive but still dirty and intimate enough to stop anyone from yelling Sell out!

With every album, Deerhunter strip away more layers of textural ambience and reveal what some fans knew all along: that they're a pop band.

A Swedish Love Story's brevity is basically a kind of pop tease, but the upbeat (or "posi," as he put it in a press release) vibes make for a stirring and enjoyable listen.

He sticks so closely to the original arrangements that his shortcomings as a vocalist are painfully evident. Had he tried to reinterpret the classics even a little bit, we wouldn't be so quick to compare his singing to the originals.

It's an accomplished record for singer Adam Levine and his faceless group, even if the whole affair sometimes sounds clinical in its approach.

The Roots aren't averse to a good cover song, so it's not surprising to see them team up with R&B crooner John Legend for a set of throwback soul tunes.

If David Browne's Sonic Youth bio was to be believed, Swans, who emerged from the same noise-filled no wave scene in New York's early 80s as Thurston Moore, had a rotating cast of nasty-tempered psychotic rockers, with multi-instrumentalist Michael Gira at its centre. Listening to Swans' new album, the first in 14 years, you get the sense that some of that malevolence remains.

Arriving ahead of a full-length, this five-song EP confirms our suspicion of the duo's pop genius.

Some might lament the increased accessibility and decreased experimentation, but it doesn't take long to realize that these tracks do as much in four minutes as the 18-minute epics in Black Mountain's past.

This time Karl Hyde and Rick Smith team up with a revolving cast of dance producers (Appleblim, Al Tourettes, High Contrast), hoping one of the many approaches to rock-meets-techno will again produce a bankable hit. Surprise! That doesn't happen.

Like most eccentric geniuses, Of Montreal's Kevin Barnes is as frustrating as he is brilliant.

As endearing as Jorge Garcia's face is, shining warmly from the cover of Weezer's eighth release, the timely pop reference to a Lost character is the perfect symbol for a band on a continued downward spiral into meme-based gimmickry and music with zero staying power.

Cave drops brilliantly funny lines throughout, and his enthusiasm for this project is palpable.

Accented by González's charming harmonies, close-mic'ed guitar work and Winterkorn's hazy, retro synths, the album is a headphones record that reveals new depth with every listen.

It's nice that he's managed to keep things tasteful, but instead of quiet intensity, it comes across more as overly cautious and timid – not exactly what he was aiming for.

Slippin' And Slidin' on Harlem River Blues, probably the 28-year-old's strongest album yet, hints at that tendency. Slippin' And Slidin' on Harlem River Blues, probably the 28-year-old's strongest album yet, hints at that tendency.

Still, while we wait for a pop saviour to take the genre forward, Chromeo provide a nice enough tribute to its past.

Flowers plays it too safe. For a record about Las Vegas, he sure doesn't gamble much.

Everything from the production to the songwriting seems aimed to evoke the 60s, and the album would probably sound killer on a good turntable.

It's a better album than their last, and diehard fans should be satisfied, but it's not going to get the rest of us very excited.

On the first three tracks, she tackles enduring pop-music themes like love, loneliness and friendship with the kind of unsentimental yet empathetic songwriting fans of the Pet Shop Boys might admire. Midway, her worldly confidence morphs into outright cockiness and the beats grow aggressive.

Do too many cooks spoil this classic rock 'n' roll concoction? Hell, no.

These are love songs with sharp edges that keep the sweetness mysterious.