Dig Out Your Soul isn’t the worst record Oasis have produced, but even the heavily shat-upon (an unfairly so, in this writer’s opinion) Heathen Chemistry was comfortable within its own skin.

Despite the consistency--the one area in which she's improved--it's almost certainly the weakest and most irrelevant album she's produced.

Overall, Chase This Light takes the pop rock sound of their latest albums and perfects the style, complemented with Butch Vig’s flawless production skills. Again, the choruses sound bigger and catchier than ever.

The group tried something different here and it really works. Overall, ROCKMAKER stands as one of the group’s most cohesive LPs in a long time, automatically making it easier to follow through and digest.

PiL have created something solid, vicious and with enough value for repeat listens.

Come Of Age exceeds the expectations granted by its title and instead shows that the group are already wise beyond their years.

This is an empty record, and the exact opposite of what it means to write classic music, because through all its forced smiles and fake problems, it's an album that means absolutely nothing to me.

While Kindly Bent To Free Us carries Cynic’s trademark sound, it simultaneously sounds like it could’ve been written by a number of groups.

Long Live the King serves as a supplemental EP worthy of a glance from the casual listener, and most certainly from every fan.

Unfortunately, it’s an LP which simply lacks reward... Both for listeners and, ultimately, the band.

There’s a sense of the theatrical blended in subtly among the very genuine declarations of self that pepper the rest of the album.

It is only Avron's aforementioned huge-sounding production which separates You Me At Six from hundreds of similar bands, meaning that Cavalier Youth is neither cavalier, nor youthful enough to take them to the next level.

Junk functions best as Gonzalez curating the soundtrack of his past, as on an individual basis these songs are usually quite enjoyable, well-crafted and dripping with affection for an era most people would prefer to forget.

Unfortunately, he forgot he cannot sing or write coherent lyrics.

The Bedlam in Goliath is simply an immense album.

Anarchy, My Dear fails because it tries to recapture things that Bemis just doesn't seem to have right now--true discontentment and anger and venom.

To their credit, the album is fun in small doses. Still, the musicianship is never great, sometimes dreadful. The "fun" of the album sometimes feels forced, trying to capitalize on the success of "In Case We Die."

it’s an excellent change of pace for the band, and proves that they can indeed write spacey, esoteric mid-tempo songs instead of...well...spacey, esoteric breakneck songs.

While sounding more like a compilation of singles than a fully cohesive album, One Love could in fact be the release that finally wins over both the dedicated weekend club-goers, as well as the stay-at-home older generation looking to revisit their youth.

These are all songs that you would have trouble getting out of your head, and It Won’t Be Soon Before Long is the second coming and establishing factor of Maroon 5 as the pop band of the century thus far.

Despite its hyperactive tendencies and its scale there hasn't been another record released this year as gorgeous and completely owned by a band as Everything.

The range of emotions and material on display make The Best Damn Thing a much easier listen than the monotonous angst of Under My Skin.

Permalight was an unacceptable rocking of the boat. Nightingale Floors is an all too predictable response, then, safely ensconced as it is in the warm, reverb-heavy sound of beloved predecessors like 2005’s Descended Like Vultures and an atmosphere far more organic in tone and mood than Permalight.

Endless Flowers is an album of summer anthems for those who like their beach days mixed in with a good dose of torrential summer downpours.

Despite being Simple Plan's poppiest release yet, it is also their least catchy, indistinct and forgettable.

The album's relatively narrow focus does it few favours here; its reluctance to experiment outside of sparkly, quickfire bangers inadvertently spotlights how the appeal of its weaker cuts is directly interchangeable with that of the highlights.

Most of the album is still enjoyable, however, and certainly provides some new ideas for instrumental rock music.

Familial plays its cards remarkably close to the chest, much like Selway's work in Radiohead. Selway never asks for attention, but still receives it through his remarkable consistency and precision.

Many listeners will hear Emery's heaviest album to date, while others will find it their catchiest. Some may enjoy the gradual come down after the initial blast, while the rest will believe it lacks cohesion.

Despite pulling out all the stops towards the end, The Cost is everything The Frames usually eschew: it’s bland, it’s monotonous and it barely achieves a tempo shift across forty-four minutes.

Overcome is but a grain in the sand on an oversaturated desert; a metal album you'll enjoy while you play it but won't ever be something you‘ll yearn to hear.

The biggest problem with Oh My My is that OneRepublic forsakes the few characteristics that once made them relatively unique in favor of bland, done-to-death radio pop.

Angel Face deserves some credit for possessing a small handful of excellent singles, but outside of those, this album falters almost uniformly. I can see what Stephen Sanchez was going for conceptually and aesthetically – and admittedly, I even fell for it based off the strength of the singles. However, the additional eight songs add no value at best and more often than not kill whatever buzz that was generated by the likes of "Only Girl", "Evangeline", "Be More", and "Until I Found You".

As a writer of the English language, Kozelek gets perfect marks; as a writer of songs, the jury is still out.

Yusuf hasn't missed a beat, as this is still the same sound he made famous on 70s staple "Tea for the Tillerman" and later perfected on "Teaser and the Firecat", and while it's certainly not as impactful, I'm comfortable saying that "An Other Cup" comes pretty close.

Whatever Funk’s motivation in pumping out yet another breakcore grenade in his long line of breakcore grenades, My Love is a Bulldozer is at the very least an engaging listen--make of that what you will.

It offers a collection of solid tunes that were unlikely to ever be conceived. The excitement behind them is noticeable, yet overall they could have been trimmed for the standard release.

The social media taint/ industry plant vibes radiate from this project as if it’s been sprayed by a skunk, with very little to recommend it other than as a soundtrack to some upcoming TikTok trend. There’s doubtless an audience for Ice Spice amongst the army of impressionable youths who may find this kind of rap wonderfully diverting, but it’s hard to deny just how artistically barren this release in particular is.

As a soundtrack, it works. Moody music fills the background, and in that respect it is largely a success. Yet as a standalone listen, the record is a weak and almost slap-dash display, with Arnalds feeling regrettably uninspired.

There is nothing radical or daring about the faithfully rendered tunes we find on Twelve.

A solid, if formulaic, LP which clearly adheres to the K.I.S.S (Keep It Simple Stupid) formula.

Distinguishing themselves from the shadow of Fall Out Boy, My Chemical Romance and the like without sacrificing too many of the essential elements of their debut album, The Academy Is… have emerged as a band with ambition and the songwriting skill to match.

Mylo Xyloto proves that Coldplay are quite simply the best pop band in the world, bar none.

Music For Robots functions as the first embarrassingly terrible album of 2014, and should be avoided by all except those with an extremely morbid sense of curiosity.

While not as ambitious as it could have been, Your Wilderness serves as a needed push in a new direction for Soord and co. Whether Harrison remains in the band or not, this will hopefully stand in their impressive discography as a stepping stone to even more lofty explorations for the future.

While it may not be a classic record and won’t be the new soundtrack to the revolution, Appeal to Reason is filled with faux-punk rock anthems and memorable lyrics and basslines that will satiate anybodies need for Rise Against.

What Silversun Pickups have done is settle into a sweet spot. It might not sit well with everyone involved, but it takes nothing away from what this is: a gorgeous if slightly safe album that proves this band hasn’t lost their edge when it comes to making captivating music.

The Golden Age of Knowhere is the perfect party album since it has something for everyone. And while it will most likely work better in a live setting, it still makes for one hell of an excellent record.

Make no mistake--this is the record that Linkin Park know they should have made seven years ago.

It’s too harsh to suggest that the band are coasting, since there are once more fragments of ideas, concepts and melodies which arouse.

The interludes don’t do much, while a handful of tunes need a richer structure in order to develop an immersive atmosphere. As a result, Powder Dry is similar to reading pages from a diary, some entries describe full stories while others share only a few scattered thoughts. Nevertheless, I appreciate Tim for discarding all guest appearances and the idea of a comfort zone to truly realize his own vision.

Aspiring to find a middle ground between her folk background and the burgeoning success of electro-pop is an enterprising objective, but it is one which Goulding predominantly succeeds in through her genuine sincerity.

As with so many flashy and polished pieces, often the initial effect far outweighs the real underlying substance. For now, though, we’re just going to have to enjoy Hope for what it is: an insanely catchy record from an indie-pop juggernaut that has likely just set the standard for radio-friendly folk.

In summary, it's a good album and a perfect indication of the progress Tankian has made and will continue to make as a musician.

The album is far from perfect, but it is still temping to describe it as a welcome return to form for a songwriter who has lately ventured closer to fluffy indie-pop than the biting folk that made his name. The best of the songs on No Man’s Land mix dense historiography with accessible catchiness.

The album endears itself with a simpler style and digestible runtime provided the ridiculous 60s synths and wee-ooh vocals don't immediately turn you off. It clearly will not go down in anyone's book as a classic release, but for a change it's a Pumpkins album that's aware of that fact, cleverly baking that unassuming simplicity into every note and half-nonsense lyric.

Mission Bell isn't anywhere near a disaster, but it's also nowhere close to being a great album. Whatever it is Amos Lee went off in search of at the beginning of this album, he should have kept looking for it.

Kasher still embraces his flaws and while that may not work to the record's advantage when it does Cursive hits hard as ever.

Planet Earth is one of the more varied albums Prince has done, yet all the same it's probably his most straight-forward release in a long, long while.

While the ten tracks here can switch from sexy to mature, dark to funky, and the differences make themselves further known with extended listening, the heavy reliance on the synth does, unfortunately, keep that complaint intact. Omni is still a very solid record.

The Taking is the sound of a man with no corporate or musical responsibility simply doing what sounds and feels right.

One listen to this album though and you come to realise that its Noel's absence that has made it.

Hella is stuck in the realm of Yowie -- playing with excellent ideas, but too stuck on defining themselves with an all too familiar genre.

The record doesn't particularly sound like anything Our Lady Peace has done in the past, but maybe that is what's so exciting about the quartet's seventh release.

As a concept album, it's halfway to becoming an amazing cycle. There are a few flaws and the second half of the collection to worry about, but so far, Thrice has produced another stunner.

When it's good, it's really good. Otherwise, it's never really bad, just excessive and somewhat unfocused.

OneRepublic’s latest effort proves that they are at the top of their respective genre, and it may be time to stop looking at them as the prince waiting-in-the-wings and finally hand them that goddamned crown.

As a whole Negotiations does little to distinguish the individual songs from the album's greater artistic statement.

It is basically the quintessential Avril Lavigne record, featuring the soaring choruses and melodies that made us fall in love with her over the past ten years, as well as the silly (and sometimes stupid) quirks that range from endearing to flat out annoying.

What truly elevates Relaxer for me is that it finally feels like Alt-J is extending their creative reach.

Every single song is still about smoking with girls, and every song is the same stale, tired, derivative indie/emo I’ve heard a million times.

The thing about Emerald Forest and the Blackbird, though, is that it has no logical direction and no cohesive force, despite its strong and intriguing concept.

It's just we know there's more to this guy than this sluggish, lifeless material.

Chinese Democracy is comfortably the most consistent record the band have put out since "Appetite For Destruction," and proof the ginger midget can put out genuinely great rock music without the blonde giant and the black guy.

While it fails to better its predecessor, Anxiety is a mature, personal and vulnerable release that is both a brave and natural evolution for an undoubtedly talented artist.

A few rays of light cut through the murky and mediocre experience, but when all is said and done, Light We Made is like that dream you struggle to remember in the morning: forgotten.

The fact remains that Songs of Innocence ultimately feels like a crucial upswing in U2’s discography, especially since it comes at such a late stage in their careers.

While at times angrier and more energetic than Death Cab for Cutie, many songs could be (and are) B-sides of "Plans" or "Transatlanticism."

This is the kind of music Shearwater plays best--the it gives the band the space they need. It is a damned shame most of Fellow Travelers opposes this idea, with songs that are defined too rigidly for the Texan reimaginists.

Arrows and Anchors is a masterpiece. It takes the wonder of El Cielo, mixes it with the heavy prog of Tool, and goes all [insert Mike Patton project here] in its weirdness.

Stale songwriting and (mercifully) brief track durations birth forth mind-numbing verses and uninteresting choruses that repeat all too often, in all too predictable configurations. With such uninspired material to work with, it's difficult to conjure an emotion either side of ambivalent, neither to exalt nor to condemn.

Penny Sparkle's brisk length works to its advantage: music this glacial just can't be endured for too long. But this isn't to say Penny Sparkle doesn't (possibly) foretell a interesting future for Blonde Redhead; in fact, I'd say I'm hoping more than ever before that the band sticks with this newfangled direction, to see if they can work out the kinks and make the kind of record Penny Sparkle could've been.

As a record, Barragan concludes as a frustrating summation of Blonde Redhead’s overwhelming promise and a glaring reminder of the band’s flaws.

Circus is a top-rate pop album that, with a little bit of justice, will be afforded the same sort of longevity as her brilliant early singles.

Between the Buried and Me have refined their sound and improved their songwriting ten-fold, and while The Great Misdirect may not match "The Silent Circus'" raw energy and intensity, it might be their most coherent album yet.

Sure, the album is a commendable attempt at maturity which suggests that the five-piece are unlikely to take their careers for granted. Unfortunately, Everything's Fine is another example of a band attempting to grow up far too fast, and coming unstuck because of it.

The album is just a bunch of incredibly inoffensive hard rock masquerading as metal, and while its not good by any stretch of the imagination, it isn't a travesty to music either.

Savoir Adore are best suited for exploring the recesses of indie-pop, noting what’s worked most successfully in the genre’s past and utilizing it to shade their brand of music as they please.

Tying everything back to the idea of the album as a showcase for Grande’s newfound maturity, My Everything ends up ringing hollow.

In the end, iTRÉ! is unexpectedly the strongest record overall of the three. Although it has its own issues, these don't drag that much the whole affair down and there aren't any horrible missteps such as "Nightlife".

Music to Be Murdered By doesn’t improve on Kamikaze, that’s largely down to its run time and hodgepodge of styles, but I can say there was at least some effort put into this one. The production is decent, the vocals occasionally hearken back to his playful era, and the guests do a pretty great job throughout, but there’s still too much baggage being carried over from the ‘10’s Eminem albums, and it kills a lot of the potential here.

Greta Van Fleet has taken full advantage of their moment. They've cleaned up the mistakes of their first album, fleshed out their atmospheres into some truly lush and breathtaking territories, doubled down on their heavy rock edge, and crafted something that is far better than it has any right to be. Bask in it without feeling any shame.

Barbara is pure We Are Scientists, and in the context of the band's discography, it's hopelessly unoriginal but undoubtedly strong, the kind of record that will either have you tearing out your hair in frustration at a band that showed so much promise or singing along in your car to a CD chock-full of superb sing-a-longs.

Every once in a while, Myself In The Way’s commitment to boringness leads to some Nice Music.

Freed from the obligations a full album would have entailed, Wu-Tang are free to make their best music in over ten years.

With a hackneyed focus on forcibly juxtaposing several random styles into their main rock sound, the stupidly long track names, and the uninspired hard rock instrumental work we get on here, essentially the album comes across as a tasteless meme.

WE STILL DON’T TRUST YOU has little to offer on basically any front. On the drama front, there are no haymakers or grand declarations. There are a few guests that stop by ala Mr. Rodgers style to give low-effort mumblings to the effect of “Drake Sucks,” but much of the project is devoid of anything compelling enough to hang your hat on.

This is just lazily done and disappointing considering it’s been marketed very well to appear mysterious.