Overall, Days Go By ends up as a solid record only because there are traces of The Offspring again and not a band that tries to copy others.

This moment of fuzzed-out, fucked-up pop music with questionably scant odes to rap music is not designed for posterity. To his credit, Post gets that, and is content to make overlong albums where every song can be a single. Not every song on beerbongs and bentleys can be a single, but there’s enough of them hiding in there to make it one of 2018’s more rewarding releases.

Aside from its opening track, which I’ll get to, this album is essentially a blank space.

Integrity to the fans, the fun tongue-in-cheek of the album and the no-*** rock n roll makes Here and Now a standout record for 2011, and may even win Nickelback some new fans.

Faith takes every single ounce of her experiences and infuses them into her music. It results in one hell of a theatrical roller-coaster ride that holds attention from beginning to end.

There are no good songs. There are no ‘moments’ that make any of these 18 songs worth listening to. There’s nothing that implies there is potential, there are no guests that make Eminem worth listening to, there are no good lyrics, there are no good production flourishes, and there aren’t any melodies. There’s no evident flow, and there isn’t anything to be gained from listening to this that can’t be done by listening to literally anything else.

As a whole, Cardiology is an attempt to leave behind the band's failed newer sound and return to their pop-punk roots.

The New Game signifies Mudvayne's transition from elite metal juggernaut to their inevitable fade into obscurity.

At a mere thirty-six minutes, it’s not a stretch to see Britney Jean as a half-baked effort, more of a commitment to be completed and shipped off than the labor of love it was touted as.

Underclass Hero tries its best to be profound and musically challenging, however its only success is found, without exception, in the tracks which drop the pretense entirely and return to the formula which made the group popular to begin with.

There’s no question about which side of the disc is the more interesting- sleaze beats manufactured sentiment any day--but ultimately it’s the country half that most people will pay attention to, and to that end there is very little to actively criticise.

It sounds like the work of a band who are simply trying to get their feelings off their chest, rather than one trying to sell records.

Every song layers Levine's singing/clumsy rapping over the most cringe inducing trap beats, and most of the time he sounds like a middle-aged stepdad trying to sound "hip" to get in good with his stepson. It's transparent cultural and trend pandering, and even when Levine adheres to his bread and butter, the melodies are more vanilla than usual.

Revolting, messy, lazy, and undeniably Sum 41, Screaming Bloody Murder is a dead band moaning in its grave. Any highlights here more or less just belong to other, better bands, or even Sum 41 themselves from the past.

Of course, nothing on This is Forever is really new territory; the 80’s influenced synthesizers, the electronic drums, the monotone vocalist, it’s all been heard before. It’s all been done so much better.

The album’s music is a similar story, theoretically well-equipped with its slick production and generous emphasis on slide guitar, yet so heartlessly procedural in its composition and homogenous in its tempo that its encapsulation of the country Experience misses the elation and dynamism of wind-in-your-hair and ends up for more cholesterol-in-your-burger.

A more confident, complete record than its predecessor, No Baggage sees Dolores O'Riordan building on old strengths, while broadening her artistic scope farther than it's been in thirteen years.

Shinedown has the raw talent to keep Amaryllis afloat, but the album is full of holes and it always appears to be on the verge of sinking.

The Death of Slim Shady (Coupe De Grace) isn’t a blazing return to glory, but it is an intriguing album filled with some legitimately light-hearted and funny moments – something I feel has been sorely lacking in his material for years now – the battle between Eminem and Slim Shady is a great concept that is explored pretty competently here, and the instrumentation, while far from perfect, captures the essence of what he’s trying to accomplish here.

One More Light sees the band embracing its melodic core, and offering no apologies as they expound upon it.

NAV is front-to-back one of the blandest takes on the genre so far.

Any message contained within Lulu is lost in the whirl of discordant guitar work, Reed's mutterings and the complete sense of abject disappointment that surrounds the entire album.

What we get is listless by the numbers "latin rock", dull, sleepy ballads, and overblown Diva numbers I wouldn't wish on Whitney Houston.

Every song is so utterly devoid of energy, like they've released a record composed of the spaces between the notes in all their previous work.

The production quality is a crowning grace throughout the album in the face of some very dodgy writing and bad musical choices.

Cringe-worthy lines are unfortunately rampant through The Weirdness’s (long) forty minutes.

Truthfully, Super Collider is just a Megadeth album born of complacency and issued with only the faintest interest in remaining relevant.