Lyrically, things are mainly annoying, although there are a few bits of amusing storytelling, and some interesting couplets.

Quite simply, 'Bows + Arrows' is a Great American Record, taking the qualities most admired in the last 35 years of US rock and barbecuing them together.

While the record lacks any of [Queens of the Stone Age's] belligerent twisted rock weirdness they have definitely pumped up the Good Charlotte-style teen anthem choruses.

They’re perhaps a tad unoriginal - a hint of Felix here, a spot of 'Positive Education' there, a sniff of classic Sabres Of Paradise and some 'Stakker Humanoid' round the corner ­ but hey, what’s wrong with nostalgia? Especially when it gets your hands in the air like you just don’t care.

'Apropa't' sounds as organic as a dump and as lush as a drizzly sunset.

You can smell the impotent melodic desperation a mile off.

[Delirium] is hardly the kind of record that will be everyone’s bag, but there is so much variety and so much imagination packed into it that we find ourselves recommending it despite ourselves.

One of those classy records that will sound good forever, no matter what you do with it.

'Silence Is Easy' is non-challenging "pretty pretty" music for early-ageing types who might recoil at anything without an acoustic guitar and tomtoms.

‘Margarine Eclipse’ manages to be generous in length without ever finding itself repetitive, doodles are never allowed to become noodles, understated charm is maintained throughout.

They actually sound like they've elected to live in a cocoon full of aromatic candles, a huge collection of musty records, some drugs, some books, and a collection of mid eighties Peel sessions alphabetically labelled on TDK C90s.

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

Resembles nothing more than a U.S. major label executive’s idea of what dance music should sound like.

After the patchy pleasures of 'Wanderland', 'Tasty' is a huge Roman orgy of an album.

See, there're a good few cracking singles on here, but there are also occasions when her wistful classicism leads her down blind alleys.

This has little future funk, but lots of Swizz beats-styled Casio Rap and contemporary chart dancehall. Which is lame.

[A] weird, angry, frustrating album.

Someone should put Blink 182 out of their misery.

Seriously poor, lowest common denominator bullshit.

'Try This' is quite the album - most things to all people, touched by audacious greatness, and as fine an advert for imperfectionism as we could've demanded.

There is, undoubtedly, something impressive in the craft and detail of Plaid’s labours, but the whole lacks an intangible something to lodge their 'Spokes' securely in our hearts.

There are tunes galore, and ideas that some groups would do someone in for, it’s just a shame he decided to do an approximation of all his favourite bands, and didn’t try something a bit more progressive than 'Rock‘n’Roll'.

'Skull Ring' is Iggy's strongest and most consistent album since 1993's 'American Caesar'.

Most of all, though, what we find ourselves thinking of when enjoying 'The Earth Is Not A Cold Dead Place' - and, rest assured, readers, it's an enjoyable experience right the way through - is the magical spangliness that elevated the Cocteau Twins from absolutely all of their more ghettoised contemporaries way back when.

The choice, folks, is all yours. Would you like The Thrills? Or would you prefer some excitement instead?

There's little of the pop sparkle that shone through the likes of 'The Modern Age' and 'Last Nite' even when - as with 'You Talk Way Too Much' - they're rewriting old material, and Julian's vocals are, to be blunt, awful, sounding uncomfortable to record and rather complacently nasal.

It's an unrelenting trip, and while Hawtin's much trumpeted spoken-word vocalisations veer perilously close to self-parody at times, 'Closer' is a stunning re-affirmation of an uncompromising musical vision.

As far as style and technique go, it's more of the same; quite literally MORE. 'Kish-Kash'? Mish-mash: Basement Jaxx make dancefloor monsters, Frankenstein's monster stylee.