There's little that sounds really new here.

The music itself doesn't quite have the simple accessibility and easy soul of her debut, but it's loads of fun and bursting with ideas.

A good record, if a little frustrating.

But even on those tracks that don't make the cut as RJ stand-outs almost everywhere you care to look there are stylish touches and subtleties waiting to be discovered with each subsequent listen.

Too often, though, as on the lacklustre title track 'Favours For Favours' or 'Thursday', it has to be said that the new beast just isn't as feisty as the one-trick pony of old.

If there's one thing that unites 'Illuminated By The Light' it's how sweaty a vibe it gives off.

Worth the wait? Well, sort of. This is the sound of a band that has tired of its popular straitjacket ­ searching for something more real, more original, more cutting edge. But you can't forget what you've learned, can't retrace your steps or begin again afresh.

Quite simply, only the Chili Peppers are even in this class now, and it took them a lot more than four albums to get there.

They’re waay better than The Coral, exhibiting none of the tedious, skunk-smoke wackiness that characterises their labelmates.

It's clearly touched by the hand of Brian Eno, who tries (and succeeds with) all sorts of jumpy, trippy beats.

The Rapture may not quite be wholly heavenly, but they've made an album that's entirely admirable and often lovable.

Z's leaden voice is what really makes The Like stand out.

Not necessarily a fantastic album then, but a great excuse for a record, nonetheless.

Not much here is too likely to blow up on the airwaves... it's too dirty, too ugly, too hard, and too Real.

It appears to paint from a more kaleidoscopic emotional palette than some of the earlier Stars endeavours.

Though not really getting the joke can somewhat divorce the listener from proceedings, the slick, masterful production and real-life cameos from the likes of Ghostface and particularly Cee-Lo on the majestic 'Benzi Box' make up for the feeling of exclusion.

They're simply repainting comfortable territories with even subtler strokes than ever.

Even Paul McCartney himself hasn't made an album this McCartneyish for some twenty-odd years now.

If you're the sort of person who only buys one metal album a year, then you'd probably be better off buying the new Mastodon album 'Blood Mountain' and going to see Slayer live but otherwise, what the hell are you waiting for...

Twilight listening of this ilk can teeter dangerously on the ledge of snoozedom, but anyone who can manage to drop off during this album's many unnerving and often hyperactive moments is going to have some damn weird dreams.

Although pretty catchy, this album is a tad too monotonous.

This is Pearl Jam, it's down to you whether that means anything or not.

This is classic timeless pop.

The album is closer to the thrash end of their style then the folk, and the music reflects the anger in the songs brilliantly.

This is hip-hop - experimental, brave, and weird, just like it's supposed to be.

While there is a fair fetter of kook in here – it’s hard to sing histrionically and American and have a wirbly organ thing without sounding a little trite - this desire to geek out is mixed with a warm and thoughtful structural progression that, while never breaking the gasp-o-meter, makes for a pleasing enough debut.

Yes, it's eclectic and he hasn't just slapped together a ragbag of Ibeefa anfums, but this record essentially suffers from a lack of ambition.

As with most such collections you're going to get good, bad and extremely ugly, and this is no exception. The fact it spans three CDs seems a bit indulgent considering some of the material should be consigned to an incinerator never to be heard again.