This is a missed opportunity, but it's commendable that when both parties are not at their strongest the results can still satisfy.

Though Brightest Darkest Day isn’t a world-changer, you have to admire this pair’s indisputable dynamism.

The album captures little of the Opera's live spirit.

As ever, his lyrics sound better the less you think about them, but you know The Killers are getting it right because most of the time, you don't need to.

An album of controlled explosions that reclaims rock for the oldies and gives the kids something to mosh to.

O'Brien's voice is beautiful and his songwriting often adventurous, but there are times when the aim isn't as true as it could be.

The raspy sonics can’t mask some of their most shrug-worthy songs to date.

Occasionally it's beautiful--the acoustic breakdown in 'Thoughts' is unexpectedly sublime--and often beguiling.

A quantum leap it ain't--and Glass could do with putting her fangs back in--but (III) has just enough up its sleeve to keep Crystal Castles on track.

It's audaciously hit and miss, inevitably, but 'Out Of The Game' is anything but shy and retiring.

The enjoyably fluffy, pacy tunes here match Best Coast’s debut, but the content makes you want to scream ‘Get a f***ing life and chill out!’ at the speakers.

'Never' walks a fine line between experimental and exasperating.

A witches' broth of soothing vocals, swooshing 90s synths and computer drum beats.

Throughout, Niblett’s lonesome, PJ Harvey-like voice and grunge-bitten guitar are central, while disorientating snare cracks serve to underline her forlorn tales of domestic crises.

'Port Of Morrow' is a glorious and confident return, even if it lacks a little darkness at times.

Too often inaudible, the band’s uncathartic noise can still test patience as well as nerves.

A who's who of re-mixers have been cast for the job, and there's value in finding their take on Nick Cave's already unique sound.

Anger, bitterness and scorn spike the discomfiting atmosphere at every turn.

So, all in all: not a bad album, but most of the time it’s more harmless midge than lethal mosquito.

While there are individual moments that are up there with the band’s best, Right Thoughts falls short of the return to form the opening tracks suggest.

No new tricks, but there's life in these old dogs yet.

[The album] is a natural progression from the first, as the band’s distinctively jangly, incessantly upbeat guitars are remodelled in increasingly eccentric ways.

It's slicker than anything Katy's done before – maybe not as long-term-lovable, but certainly worth living with for a while.

As engaging as an album of mood swings can be.

A riot of dumbness, 'Hot Cakes' is predictably brash and Queen-like.

Shulamith picks up pretty much where that album left off, mixing elements of yacht rock, soul, hip hop and dub into a smoothly melancholic whole--but at times Leaneagh’s vocodered emoting makes you wonder if this isn’t just Dido for the blognoscenti.

It's the inconsistency of Future This--particularly the band's newfound tenderness vs. Their miscalculated explosions of noise--that make it a largely baffling listen.

The suave Londoner’s debut is a deeply ridiculous affair, but something about his Cave-meets-Cohen shtick endears.