Adult is fun for a little while, but it’s hard to see it keeping listeners’ attention for long.

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.

While these tracks aren’t necessarily bad by any definition, they certainly lack the charisma that M83 is known for.

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.

There's a lot to like here. "Bucky, Boris and Dent" aren't long for this world, but their memory lives on thanks to the song's chipper melody. It's just that a good chunk of the tracklist unfolds along a steady procession of waltzes. They're all gorgeous, too, smooth and shiny as a commemorative dinner plate. The spacey interludes will keep you on your toes, but anyone who's looking for a hoedown might get bored in a hurry.

Much of the album carries this sense of being a showpiece for one of its individual elements--more often than not, it is Ronald Lippok’s shuffling percussion which breathes life into Instrument.

Pinned isn’t a memorable record; it’s a cacophony of ideas that don’t pan out. While it has bursts of substance, they soon trail off, or are abandoned instantly.

Long-time fans--particularly of King of the Beach--will find plenty to like here, but it’s difficult not to feel that Williams, by now, has scraped the bottom of the pop barrel; his future, as No Life for Me suggested, looks brighter when his stylistic eye wanders elsewhere.

It may not be revolutionary in its music or pantomime, with some evident missteps. Still, the secret society is doing a world of good by exposing a gamut of fans to the many genre-bending tricks they possess.

Royal Blood’s debut is an easily digestible, unfortunately thin-sounding, slightly disappointing rock record and an exciting, fresh, invigorating pop record both at the same time.

On Found Heaven, the wreckage of love overstays its welcome; sadly, profundity gives in to frustrating familiarity.

The Shadow I Remember suggests something is incomplete, the band failing to consistently scale the heights capable at their gut-punching best.

In Ferneaux is arguably Benjamin John Power’s most subdued effort under the Blanck Mass moniker. It’s a slower, more meditative affair which deviates significantly from its predecessors and whilst there are gleaming examples of Power’s sonic craftsmanship, they’re hindered by sections of profound aimlessness that move against the defined conceptual direction to be found elsewhere on the album.

By the end of Baw Baw Black Sheep the one thing we’re left wanting more of is Snow himself. His presence feels secondary to the album’s weakest cuts but, when given space to shine, the artist dazzles.

Dream World is fine, but save for one or two tracks there's little on it that couldn't be called dispensible.

Don’t get me wrong, Endless Summer Vacation is a good album with each track deserving of a listen, but in the same breath, the majority of them aren’t worthy of a replay either.

Jenny from Thebes, depending on one’s fascination with The Mountain Goats’ 30-odd years of winding lore, may either have the connotation of your dad and his group of friends finally getting around to making that album they always talked about, or, where charity applies, stay just high enough above passability that it can be recommended by fans with the asterisk, ‘one of the better ones.’

Radiate Like This is a characteristically joined-up effort from the close-knit group, underscoring the strength of their musical bond – its only hindrance being the occasional pang of déjà vu.

Some tracks feel like throwaways, then there’s the TikTok and radio cuts like “IDGAF” with Yeat and ear-shattering production from BYNX (who has been killing it btw) and “Rich Baby Daddy” that aren’t particularly rap-savvy but benefit from extremely catchy tracks with a large number of producers.

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.

Convenanza naturally operates best when Weatherall stays away from the mic.

Friendly Bacteria is the sound of artist easing back into his chair refusing to play the fool to get people’s attention and, unfortunately, the majority of it just passes by like a breath of wind.

As You Were is practically all comfortable, predictable, Oasis-without-Noel comfort food.

New Fragility is an easy album to dismiss, especially when it’s such low-stakes (old band, low-key release), but it’s even easier to just enjoy it for what it is.

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

The resulting project is weirdly disappointing; a bold creative decision ends up splitting the collaborators’ contributions down the middle, and BBNG bring surprisingly little vigour or experimentation to the table.

As heavy, hard rock records go, Once More ‘Round the Sun isn’t necessarily a bad one; it’s just that it seems, like The Hunter before it, to be nudging Mastodon further and further away from what made them stand out in the first place.

Whilst it is a pleasure to hear Tycho again with new ears, it's difficult to argue that what is being heard is anything new.