Unfortunately a lot of the record falls a wee bit flat.

On a first listen it sounds very long. On a second listen it sounds just like the eponymous debut, with the odd anthem missing. On a third listen we have to concede there are some fine moments.

It’s like this: ‘Sad Songs For Dirty Lovers’ sounds like every record ever made, somewhere along the line.

Even for a band that crowbar "love" into as many titles as they can, you've got to admire their sauce, and, impressively, they're cramming really difficult music into affable scuzz-pop coatings.

Rancid are currently the best and most consistent and most observant rock n roll writers on the planet.

A staggering, synth-smeared beauty of a record.

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

No, it's probably not going to remap the musical landscape this time, and, arguably, it doesn't sound as ahead of its time as, say, 'Computerworld' did. BUT! 'Tour de France Soundtracks' also sounds joyously, shamelessly like no-one else at all.

'Earthquake Glue' once again posits Pollard as purveyor of stupidly breezy tunes.

It’s just a shame that after seven plays, it’s still a bit tricky to remember what any of the tunes go like.

A soothing, gentle rock'n'roll opus.

Not, perhaps, the hugest of leaps from 'The Noise Made By People', granted, but that album, fine though it was, was very much parking on specific continental territory; 'Ha Ha Sound', by contrast, feels like it wants to explore somewhere more bearingless.

Gleeful, glorious, and utterly unique.

Fiercely intelligent, heavy as fuck, powerful and utterly concise, it's a perfect reminder of the potency of great guitar music and a kick up the jacksy of rock bands everywhere. Yup, it's that damn good.

It really is like they've never been away; their glee and enthusiasm can be heard coursing through every bar.

Bugger if the Furries haven't gone and exceeded their own expectations with this, a total stonker of a new record that cannot fail to excite and delight on, oh, so many levels.

After listening to the whole of this album we'd have to admit that Pole remains as much of a mystery as ever. Only now we're not sure we're still interested in finding out much more...

There are moments of brilliance here, sure... but there are a few too many weak skits and a few too many weak tracks here to make this anything other than a mildly cool summer thang, and summer is, like totally over now.

When 'A Drug Problem That Never Existed' is at its best, briefest and most brutish, it's a cracking piece of work indeed; daft, dirty and, in many ways, devilish.

There are moments of prog rock, jazz fusion and freakydelia in this rush of ideas and if that sounds awful then don't be put off. Instead of the shambolic mess that this kinda influence normally entails Mars Volta have come strictly disciplined.

Hugely disappointing.

So there are a couple of standout tracks, and the rest falls on its arse.

So, while this might not be Tricky at his total best, it may well be the best you're likely going to get out of him.

This is Mogwai distilled to their essence, and the result is an album of huge power, emotional depth and feeling, with vocals submerged under a claustrophobic blanket of effects and guitars battling with viola, cello, violin and piano. It's just as Eno as it is S***t, and all the greater for that.

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

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

While there’s no denying that Metallica have produced a huge – and welcome – blast from the past, it also represents a monolithic slab of noise that stretched over 11 songs and 75 minutes is just too dense and daunting to be truly enjoyable.

The vast bulk of this album is the sort of stuff you'd expect from an averagely talented bunch of first year music students. Who smoke way, way, way too much dope.