Yours Truly kept you singing until the moon shined and My Everything will make you want to dance until the sun comes up.

The Saga Continues, despite being a passably entertaining listen, is a grimmer entry, as there seems to be no concern for their legacy left.

There are moments when their roots peek through, such as on 'Sad Sad Situation,' but this record feels more like a well thought through progression and career finisher than an attempt to indulge in nostalgia.

A considered but playful overdue debut, Towards will no doubt sustain and serve them well as head onwards and upwards.

Mercurial moods aside, it's a beautifully produced record and almost addictive with the allure of its sublime tones, percussive arrangements that draw you in and an attractive coil of guitar phrasings.

It's cerebral, visceral storytelling. How you feel about that is your prerogative.

It's disappointing in some ways that quite a chunk of the record feels like offcuts; of precisely what, we can only wonder.

Nothing much sticks out, other than a campy nostalgia for an age when indie pop was still novel and there was a thick dividing line between this kind of guitar rock and the mainstream.

It's just disappointing that in the midst of a year defined by monumental hip-hop albums, Travi$ Scott chose now as the time to come lukewarm.

It's unabashed, unrepentant, contemplative when it needs to be, volcanically in-your-face the rest of the time.

Ye is an ambitious misfire.

It is like Prince meets The Allman Brothers Band, on an approximate dosage of 40–50ug of acid. ... And that makes it a certified...

As a continuation of U2’s work at this point in their career, Songs of Experience is a decent addition to their legacy that longtime fans should be generally pleased by. However, it still suffers from the same issues that have made U2 so polarizing in recent years, and is unlikely to change anyone’s mind about the band one way or another.

Notably shy of repetitive stadium-sized singalongs, it's a more intimate and mature affair on all accounts. By quieting things down, Justin Bieber may just drown out the noise.

These songs don’t live nicely in any genre, and suffer under the weight of attempting cross-pollination.

Overall, the EP is decent, its production hearkening back to Abel’s pre-pop efforts. It brings in a range of genres and collaborators into The Weeknd’s canon but fails to truly cover new ground in the lyrics and vocal threads. My Dear Melancholy is a promising output but here’s hoping these stylistic ideas can be explored more originally on a full-length EP.

Hiccups aside, Begin is an otherwise highly enjoyable album, one that sees Lion Babe fearless in their willingness to experiment with various styles in order to see what works and what doesn't, and it's through that process of discovery that they will eventually find their groove and hopefully the hit singles they are striving to create.

Enjoyable as Drift often is, The Men are honouring their influences but not going the extra mile some of their contemporaries do to make these songs stunners.

Too often, though, this feels like folk music on cruise control despite the attempts to introduce subtle electronic elements to the background of many of the songs, like a Fence Collective recording gone a bit wrong.

Sivu has naturally but powerfully created a palette of sensory strength, allowed into existence and our listening pleasure simply by being vulnerable and open to both the endurance and the departure of senses--and all that we feel, fear and hold dear.

Young Magic's second full-length is arguably a more accomplished body of work than Melt, which although also very strong, doesn't have the same congealed feel.

Fated draws you in, and encapsulates a range of euphoric sounds, leaving you much lighter on the other side.

This is an album that will not send Shintaro Sakamoto into super stardom, but will further cement his place as an experimental and eternally intriguing cult artist.

It's catchy without sacrificing heft. It's a behemoth, but also sounds meditative. Furthermore, it doesn't seem to compromise so much as heartily invite the genres it dives into.

Eminem was really rapping across an entire LP again (something I’d never say elsewhere: Rihanna is not missed), stans were going to like it too much, while his inflammatory remark is sure to prevent most any of the unconverted from being able to engage with the music itself.

It's not a terrible record, but given the weight of expectation and the creativity we've seen from them before, this just feels like a step backwards.

Its songwriting and overall conceptualising is definitely miles above the duo's experimental adolescent triple album. ...And Star Power is not an album - it's an out-of-body experience.

Unlike its predecessor, the new album is expressed with a confident ease rather than pent up frustration.