These moments of stepping outside of the indie pop comfort zone are what give Mountaintops a bit of zest, but it's also what makes the album less than a stellar affair.

Even if Strange Mercy is like a blender with its top blown off, it's undeniable how convincing St. Vincent has become.

While I may appreciate this album despite some of its fundamental flaws, I'm still not exactly clamoring for another Chili Peppers record. As stated before, I'm With You doesn't suggest a future for the band: instead, it showcases one stuck in the mud, capable of churning its wheels but not moving forward.

Pleasant, often phenomenal. And then afterwards, most of it is gone minus those times when it got real.

These are the blunders we have come to expect from Wayne, but we expect to be compensated for our time with some classic tracks, and on Carter IV, there are none.

Listening to something like Thursday is the ultimate form of escapism that so many of us flock to music for. That's a quality that should be celebrated, not criticized for its lack of immediate pleasure.

It's hard to mess up a good thing too badly and there are certainly enjoyable moments on The Green Album.

If Primary Colours still left any doubt, Skying makes it certain that The Horrors have moved on from the shadow of the (unfortunate) title of being NME darlings and into a realm where their future releases become something to mark on the calendar.

Though it may not capture our hearts as instantly as the ideas of nostalgia and romance, The Rip Tide ushers in different dimensions of emotion and that is a progression to be admired.

We're left with a mess of an album that sounds too good to hate.

While I can't rate this as highly as I hoped I'd be able to, a song like "Felt Just Like Vacation" seems like what this band is and has always been, different though it is.

With cliches becoming scarcer, there is clearly lyrical growth evident, yet one could hardly call them ground-breaking or especially relatable.

Slave Ambient is the work of a band making us listen for every piece of them.

Perhaps Sky Full of Holes will be that album to some impressionable youth whose idea of power pop revolves around Justin Bieber ballads, but for longtime fans it just sounds tired and dusty. Fountains of Wayne are still doing what they've always done, but I think I've finally grown up.

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.

Its hidden nuances become more apparent with each listen, and it's this replay value that is Fair to Midland's greatest strength.

There's nothing wrong with writing four-minute protest songs that relish in the best of their psychedelic influences, but it'll be when Portugal. The Man really unshackle themselves and start writing what they do best that they will establish themselves as a band on par with their forebears.

Fly From Here attempts to offer, amongst all this, an image of Yes that isn't hampered by the past, with five tracks smuggled onto the end of the record but having no narrative relation to the 'epic' that sells it.

In keeping with Givers' multi-dimensional aural assault, it only makes sense that vocals would also come from multiple sources. While drummer Kirby Campbell occasionally lends a hand, it is predominantly Guarisco and Lamson who brilliantly deliver the boy/girl dynamic on show here.

Basically, fans of In Flames' last four albums are sure to find plenty to enjoy on Sounds of Playground Fading as it is easily better than a lot of what they've done recently, but it could have been so much more if the vocals could be anything more than adequate.

Black Up is at first mind-bending and perhaps confusing in its production and aesthetic, making it easy to lump in with fringe rap artists cLOUDDEAD. But to do so ignores the visceral qualities of the album, both in Butler's lyrics and in the production.

It straddles that difficult line between accessible and adventurous, making for a fine stopgap between Fiery Furnaces records and an excellent summer album regardless of the year.

Whatever they ought to be doing is lost in mess of lame ideas buoyed by big hooks and pop flourishes.

With Leveler August Burns Red have reached the limitations of the metalcore rule book that they have been glued to ever since their debut.

If this is what we're going to be getting from Boeckner and company, perhaps Wolf Parade can stand to take a break for as many years as it needs to.

Whatever's On Your Mind fails to leave much of a lasting impression aside from the hooks and the impressive way the band can make a straightforward pop tune sonically adventurous.

The more muscular sound apparent second time around assists the much-discussed lasting value of the sextet, making this album as much of a grower as it is immediate.

So sigh with me; for all the promise their reunion had, they sound as if they're remembering how to work together, painting their album by numbers rather than taking risks or adding artistic flourishes of their own.