There is a poetry to the mundanity that serves as Dawson’s subject matter, which he draws out in its best moments. At others, however, his writing gets mired in merely setting down dutifully that which lies before us.

On their new album, they maintain this dive into pop, but with songs that are nothing like as captivating as their back catalogue.

Blue Rev is a slightly disappointing return from such a brilliant indie band.

On Happier Than Ever the tempo never quite reaches fever pitch; instead, Eilish is content with the tranquillity of tried and tested methods - tentatively pushing boundaries, rather than cranking the distortion up to 10.

Asunder, Sweet and Other Distress’ is good enough, by post-rock standards. But it really falls short of the bar that GY!BE set themselves before they took a break from the game.

The songs are proficiently penned, though often devoid of the juggernaut hooks that elevated previous outings, particularly the exhilarating House of Sugar and stunning God Save the Animals. Additionally, the production MO tilts toward the conservative – well-sanded and well-stirred instrumentation.

While these tracks aren’t necessarily bad by any set definition, it’s worth looking at them through a critical scope and for grand moments like these that once carried so much weight early in their career, we have to begin asking ourselves just how many times can a group reduplicate their sound before their efforts simply become white noise.

God’s Favorite Customer isn’t afforded the opportunity to shine with Tillman’s usual charming spirit--that’s not because the turmoil of heartache is too mundane a subject for the philosophically-minded Tillman to master, but because in order to master it, he needs to do more to whip up his usual reckless innovation.

Of The Earth is ultimately easier to admire as an audacious gamble than to love as a fully successful statement: sections of the album feels still under construction, an impression amplified by a handful of fully realised gems, like the hypnotic and haunting highlight “Light The Way”.

While no wheels have been reinvented, The Show is far from a bad record. If you’ve spent any time trying to imagine what a new Niall album would sound like, you’re probably pretty close.

Horsegirl’s songwriting isn’t distinct enough to imply any hidden tension though, and back to back sweetness becomes a little sickly. It’s no surprise that the best songs here are the meaner ones.

For an album which so clearly sells itself as a capital C concept Album, the narrative is indecipherable; each track dropping a handful of new character names, and the final song seems to give up on it completely. Tillman is a fantastic songwriter, and so some of the new material is gold regardless.

The Chronic and 2001 were simply collections of great songs and the order didn't matter much; Compton, conversely, is one giant song presented as a specifically sequenced album. While it succeeds as such--a lush, expensive-sounding art rap song-cycle--it fits the Doctor about as well as a baggy t-shirt. Dre makes great songs, not great albums.

Ultimately, while Grey Tickles, Black Pressure should be a career-definiting opus, it just seems unfocussed and uncertain; Grant's barbs aren't as sharp, which means too few of the songs stick like they should.

Short n’ Sweet may arrive at the right time for her, but it’s often too tame, too comfy and untidy – a designated mainstream rather than artistic breakthrough.

Although the songs are largely solid, there’s a recurring sense of deja vu. ... Being Funny in a Foreign Language sees The 1975 lose touch with the reality they are usually so skilled at reflecting. Ever one to over-intellectualise, Healy is wrapped up in so many repeating layers of fame and meaning and memes and buzzwords that any real meaning is out of reach.

While well-refined, the composition of some of the tracks sometimes comes off as slightly formulaic and a little predictable.

Time has its highs and its lows. It’s an album that doesn’t take itself too seriously. The lyrics may be tongue-in-cheek, but the craftsmanship of each song is nothing to smirk at.

As a whole, Inventions plays nicely as the backdrop of your psychedelic dreams. In pieces, it fares much better and commands more attention.

They’re all interesting concepts and ideas that work, but together they create a disjointed and bizarre listen.

It’s an album that feels made for technical appreciation, rather than necessarily engaging the listener.

Thirstier seems to spin out of control in the name of artistic development. The daring dip into electronic garners mixed results.

There is no question that this is a work of devotion, even a work of love, but as a document of raw emotion, it is lacking, it feels overly considered.

This is a noisy articulation of pain to be felt once but barely experienced after. It exists to shock with the intention of empathy; unfortunately, empathy takes time and is hardly elicited when all things warped and wicked are at the forefront.

It may not always live up to its title, but it’s certainly an interesting branch of what will hopefully continue to be a long and fruitful partnership.

The 'what if' factor looms large on CHAOS NOW*, but not to the detriment of enjoying the thrilling outsider pop music that Dawson provides both in his overarching messaging and unsteady sound.

Palomino is a return to their familiar and comforting poetic and melancholic storytelling powers.

It results in a pleasant, but mostly quite forgettable listen.