This is a record that's more intriguing than entertaining. Cocker's warmth and wit are in short supply, as is the sweeter side of his melodic gifts.

Like a futuristic remake of "The Wicker Man," it is all splintered beats and frosty light-night soul, and at best, as on 'Pity Dance,' quite remarkable.

Femi's new album suffers in comparison to Seun's – while the tracks are fairly enjoyable, Femi's lyrics are the usual worthy but clunking stuff.

Like its physical namesake, The Sea is capable of being dull and flat, but at its most winning it provides glimpses of a new horizon shining beyond the riptides of pain and sorrow.

Nat Bed's second has nothing as catchy as 'Unwritten', the tunes are on the airy-fairy side of breezy, and the lyrics on the naff side of plain. But 'Smell the Roses' is a turbulent little pop symphony, and 'When You Know You Know' is sinuous soul that speaks well of her extended sojourn in LA studios.

His post-Pete Doherty project evinces dreary futility: he thinks he's Morrissey, but he sounds more like Sandi Thom.

There are great finds--'Man Who Couldn't Cry'--but some bones are best unpolished.

Continues where 2007's sprightly comeback album "Beyond" left off.

It's not a huge departure for the Southern songbirds but proves them to be magisterial practitioners of the dark blues-rock arts.

So many of these 11 songs are variations on the title track's closing line ('Look at that old photograph, is that really you?') that this sentimental journey becomes one of just a few too many miles.

The fit is often clumsy, over-laden with strings, backing voices and metronomic beats, but there are enough stand-outs to keep our Joss in airplay.

Yes, there's plenty of God and glitz. But the purity of that voice is still brilliantly captivating.

There's too much jokey bluster, and little ground is broken, but this is an entertaining diversion.

This is sexier than it should be by rights.

Maxwell's voice is so unusually rich and supple that at best, as on the mercurial 'Bad Habits,' you cannot help but disregard his fondness for cliche.

A heavier take on their gothic moan-rock.

Closer to the big production of Have You Fed the Fish? than 2004's more acoustic-led One Plus One is One, it's also the most obvious manifestation of his longstanding Springsteen obsession.

Its gravelly tones are certainly no thing of beauty, but when married to the right song Faithfull can still emote, still deliver. There's plenty of plain wrong material, though.

Finally, the sequel to Break Like The Wind...

Refashioning 60s pop for today's pilled-up generation? Not such a bad idea, as it happens, even if it is a bit Spiritualized.

Those with the patience for deft songwriting willl want to wait for her.

Lyrically absurd, musically turbo-fuelled.

While the rhymes are frustratingly clunky at times ('What came first, the Chicken Nugget or the Egg McMuffin?'), her charisma ensures the result is rarely less than compelling.

His orchestral Kanye-meets-Nas muse lacks originality.

The album's surfaces gleam, but its flower-power proselytising never quite dispels the notion of Empire of the Sun as MGMT copyists with pretensions.

One for the fans, but it would be churlish to deny that the Wedding Present still have plenty to offer.

A handful of upbeat numbers–-including an unexpected foray into frothy high-speed electro–-pull Leona back from the brink of boring, while 'I Got You' is an impressive distant relative of 'Bleeding Love.'

Big, bold, cleverly-executed, thoroughly hollow stuff.