Their festival-friendly rap-rave-metal goes "the-generation-that-are-going-to-change-the-world" political.

It induces a heady sense of perpetual forward motion, whether graceful or full pelt. Stunning.

It may not be as mind blowing as FutureSex. But, frankly, what is?

Ward's at his best when he ditches the troubadour formula, as on the glam-pop romp he takes through Daniel Johnston's "Sweetheart".

It's a blast.

Most of the beloved Feat features are featured.

It's two-thirds pretty good, all the same.

Generation Indigo is a hugely enjoyable electro-pop album.

On record, this is a joyous burst of blissed-out world pop.

Neville almost levitates through doo-wop, soul and R&B standards.

On the evidence of this [album] one can safely say that the Dø are the best French/Finnish duo in pop.

The slightly sterile neo-soul fump of the Roots may lack the feel of their progenitors but the songs make up for that.

They have now cracked out the synths, ramped up the drum machines, and found their calling in giddy, lovelorn electro-pop.

It can be plodding and takes a while to get going, but also occasionally reaches soaring, festival-fields-at-dusk heights.

The result is an album of solid country virtue.

The repertoire leaves room for instrumental chops from saxophonist Ernie Watts, while Haden's big bass fiddle thumps out the time with authority.

It's a shame the God-bothering pomp of John Legend collaboration "The Believer" spoils it all at the end.

They sound confident enough to provide space for Finn’s lyrics of high nights and soul-harrowed hangovers

Mostly, though, this lingered-over comeback offers sumptuous returns for those prepared to linger over it.

Pianist Matthew Bourne goes all English-pastoral in this largely lovely solo suite.

A cool, edgy soundtrack for the summer, should it ever arrive.

Suggests and afternoon in Ikea. Snorbital.

[An] exceptionally artful debut.

Slipstream is welcome, despite large portions of it sounding generic to the point of self-parody: funky, strolling, sunny California blues-rock with lashings of soul.

Bewitching.

Well, they were demos once; and here they are, in all their functional glory.

It is derivative and woebegone and its musical twists are seldom hard to predict, but it is also finely crafted and devoid of the phoniness which can make such works unbearable.

Nice is the word.