With a secret nod and a flick of an amulet, JJ72 have wandered into Mercury Rev's sacred ground of mystical contemplation.

Most of the hooks are appalling - a few, sung by Skinner, like 'Such A Twat', and opener 'It Was Supposed To Be So Easy' are enjoyable, but when he lets his mates croon soupily all over his beats, shit gets distinctly unpleasant.

This may not quite live up to 'Ocean Songs', but it still stands up on its own.

There are, admittedly, times when it looks like they're just showing off.

While not quite aspiring to the lofty benchmark of 'Whatever, Mortal', this recovers the lost ground of 'Pajo'.

The warmth of her debut is still there but now overlaid with something fearsome, forceful and almost overbearing at times.

Manitoba is a lunatic and a fool, and his strange music, crafted from nature and machine and birdsong and the wind and the air and the seas and THE GODS... it is a fine, fine thing indeed.

It's a pleasant listen, with twice the beauty of its predecessor 'All This Sounds Gas', but while the songs are easy to appreciate, they are difficult to love.

'Walking With Thee' is a smoothed-over cacophony where the surreal meets the jovial and declares it an octagonal fish - deadly seriousness with a hint of smirk.

We’re filled with consternation when we first give it a whirl.... Thankfully from [track 4] on in, it gets a damn sight better.

'Why Bother' is a testing listen, of course, and after a while the vocals can begin to make your brain start to dissolve in minor whirlpools.

R.E.M. still have the remarkable distinction of never once producing a bad album, but this is perhaps the biggest example yet of the group merely treading water, whereas once they majestically swam.

The overall vibe is laid-back and the production slick, with dark moments, fun bits and some cool guests. But it lacks the punch that would make it a classic, and it's all too easy to forget that it's even playing.

Consistent and cleanly sexy stuff.

Sophomore album 'The Only Thing I Ever Wanted' is the work of a band with a keening melodic sense, akin to the development apparent in the prime works of, say, Idlewild or the Delgados, and, impressively, it does this without losing any of the idiosyncratic DIY charms that characterised its makers in the first place.

It's Emiliana Torrini, Cat Power and Nick Drake all rolled into one, and it's soothing enough to curl up and die for.

Fascinatingly dense, soulful and utterly divine.

A much more brutal and vicious record than its predecessor.

Unlike 2002's 'Geogaddi', it's a wholly gripping journey throughout.

A collage of pristine party-hop that will both make the kids bounce and the purists smile.

The good news is that for a bunch of brats they're well in control of the complex, riddling, labyrinthine structures that go toward making the perfect pop punk songs.

It’s improbably refreshing to hear musicians that were clearly weaned on Frank Zappa, Supertramp and ELO messing things up and having a laugh.

A rock-solid album that improves with each listen.

There's a lot of tracks on this album that go a lot deeper than anything Jigga's ever done, but so what? They ain't gonna cut it as party jams. Well, except the party jams.

Admittedly, this time round he's prone to touch on more comfortable territory than before... but often there's a delicious sense of him going back to basics without sacrificing the benefits of modern technology.

'Pressure Chief' sees the California quartet merge their trademark post modern kitsch with something vaguely approaching proper singing and the results are, by and large, pretty favourable.

A soothing, gentle rock'n'roll opus.

Rabid Dinosaur Jr fans will find plenty here to enjoy.