It doesn’t deviate much from the well-worn blueprint that the band have stuck to throughout their career, but when your music is this deliciously punishing why would you change?

A blend of electronic beats, keyboard-heavy dance grooves and hip-shaking pop underpinned by distorted guitar lines, this is funky and enjoyable stuff.

The frantic, high-pitched vocals of old are still present and correct, but they're also tempered by frequent downbeat melodic refrains, echoing the likes of Nirvana more than, say, The Blood Brothers. Musically too, the band display a staggering diversity.

Reign Of Terror will filter into the middle ground of obscurity amid countless other albums from bands of a similar ilk.

It's all good fun and makes the most of its human components, but there isn't much here that emerges as truly awe-inspiring or anything else other than a jolly good jam between chums. Of course, if that's all that's needed for Apocalyptica to remain among Finland's most popular imports, then for now, at least, it's still job done.

This is a solid album, rife with brooding love metal and big choruses, but while this is HIM’s most accessible album to date it’s also the most unpalatable, as Ville takes one step too many towards self-satire.

There is a sense of funk and bounce characterised by RATM on display here that gives the songs an underlying sense of conviction on top of Morello's already biting vocal approach.

It’s their use of modern electronica (‘Unmade’) and metalcore crunch (‘Paper Thin’) that asserts this as bleeding-edge relevant, and there’s enough spark here to suggest they could turn into more than a nostalgia trip.

A stinging reprise of ’93’s ‘American Jesus’ serves as a timely reminder that these perennial bastions of articulate dissent haven’t gone soft on us quite yet.

For an album that led the charge in early-’00s pop-punk, it’s worth a spin or two, if only for the memories it’ll bring back.

The album's extended title track take the catchier parts of their newer material (vocalist Chris Conley's infamous Beatles influences seem to mesh much better with their punk rock sound here), and then deliver it so tightly and concisely that it would be a total waste to rehash their glory days.

Provided you don't have an unreasonable dislike of melody, you'll enjoy the majority of tracks on this album. Even if that does make you feel a bit dirty.

Most strikingly, Darkly, Darkly, Venus Aversa displays a masterful control over the multi-faceted Cradle Of Filth sound; brutal vocal gymnastics, skull-rattling double-kicks, symphonic flourishes, dramatic narrative and balls-out axe-slinging all make their presence known, but in a manner which routinely serves to bolster the coherency of the greater whole.

Pop sensibilities like these make some of the rhymes in the lyrics a bit predictable, but as they also result in choruses like those on 'The Joyride' and 'Circle Of Lies', it's forgivable.

American Capitalist announces them as the world champions at post-Black album piledriving riffs and soaring, US radio-friendly melodies.

Expect polished fare awash with slick harmonies, clean guitars, heavy drumbeats, giant hooks and an unadulterated wall of gleaming pop.

It's probably about time more people started caring about this band, especially since they deal in the sort of sounds that demand to be taken to heart.

It's a consistently satisfying rock experience.

It won't be to everyone's tastes, but for those who like their metal both heavy and undeniably hook-laden, this is as satisfying an effort as you're likely to find.

At almost 50 minutes in length, it's an eyebrow-raiser for all the wrong reasons.

This is brave, baffling, bonkers and most importantly, absolutely brilliant. Strap yourselves in, it’s a hell of a ride.

Murdered Love is a perfectly enjoyable and easily digestible slice of rap-metal.

It's not to say Time For Annihilation isn't very good, just if you like Pink and other commercial rock, you're going to love this.

It’s very much the work of a band who are still capable of delivering the goods even after 17 years, while showing the fresh-faced up and comers a thing or two.

This Is War is passionate, rousing and astonishingly focused.

Super producer Ross Robinson has been given the unenviable task of bottling lightning, and he's certainly earned his money this time round; from Jonathan Davis' tortured, primal yelps to the pounding drums and a bass sound that ebbs and flows violently through your extremities.

Ghost B.C.’s first effort at a covers EP is another difficult, tedious listen.

What this means is that if you find this band annoying, you'll probably hate them 10 times more after hearing Wonders Of The Younger. For the rest of us, there's no denying that 'Rhythm Of Love' and 'Killer' are guilty pleasures in the making--consider us thoroughly killed with kindness.