With the experiments being so hit and miss you’re left looking for familiar thrills, but even when delivering these, the band sound so much like there are motions to be gone through that you just aren’t inclined to feel engaged.

In 1996, The Fugees set the whole urban blues thing in motion with The Score. With a work of such stark emotional beauty, Blake has picked up the torch once again with Overgrown.

That the new stuff doesn’t make you pine for the comforting certainties of early solo classics à la ‘Naked as We Came’ at all is a sign of just what a successful evolution Ghost on Ghost is.

Wolf is both a departure and a refinement for Tyler, combining his best traits in such a way as to nearly eliminate his weaknesses.

It’s an album that washes over, vying for attention, but never quite succeeds in grabbing it, and never quite living up to what Cold War Kids could be.

While it is a shame that some of these ideas don’t feel more fully fleshed out, there are still plenty of moments that set characterise White Fence as some of the most interesting ’60s-tinged music being released.

Electric English is not groundbreaking nor really anything that competes with the band’s back catalogue, but overall it’s a good listen that will happily satisfy OMD’s fans.

It’s an admirable pool of ideas, thrilling noises, rare, unpredictable melodies and a huge amount of imagination but to be brutally frank, it doesn’t encourage repeat listens.

It may take a little longer to get in to, but it’s entirely possible that once you’re immersed in Wakin’ On A Pretty Daze, you might be happy never to surface.

Alone Aboard the Ark is an album that moves The Leisure Society forwards, outwards, and upwards, as a band that continues to grow into their story.

Victim of Love may only be Charles Bradley’s second album but it marks another remarkable footstep in the life of its creator.

In other words, they haven’t lost a step as a band.

Learning the lessons of its predecessor, then, album number 5 is an intelligent distillation of everything that people cherish about British Sea Power and what makes them a truly Great British rock band.

Dormarion is a record that fits the Telekinesis mould whilst taking major strides towards breaking it; it’s uneven, sure, but it’s also pretty exciting.

This album doesn’t pack enough punches to provoke or demand a rebuttal, and given the length of VietNam’s hibernation after their debut, they may head straight back there if there’s no impetus to keep them in the spotlight.

Drawing on powerpop, new wave and girl group harmonies, this record is full of engaging tunes, doe-eyed dedications and wry witticisms.

The fact that a band thirteen albums in to their career can still make music that scares their audience is one thing. But the most amazing thing about The Terror is that it sounds like they still have the capacity to scare themselves.

The Strokes have shamefully settled for average, and have failed even at that.

The album itself doesn’t quite reach the sharp, perfect coherence that Timberlake was clearly aiming for.

This record represents a bold, imaginative first step for a young band that seems poised to take their sound anywhere.

Bloodsports is such an assured return, as welcome as it is unforeseen, that Suede have succeeded in rewriting what might be deemed acceptable for a band preparing to enter middle age.

The Golden Age is undoubtably the work of a mature consciousness.

Ultimately, Delta Machine is a record full of terrific moments, reminding you of why you fell in love with Depeche Mode in the first place.

The best moments of the album work by adding a more considered approach to material that, in the wrong hands, could sound slapdash. However, the albums least remarkable moments are plodding at best and mawkish at worst.

Life After Defo is a truly captivating debut, with a poignancy that lasts far beyond the first listen.

It is a cohesive collection, each ballad given similar treatment, steadied and prettied to similar effect, and the exercise is sadly brief.

The album certainly finds the fiery BRMC of old rekindled, with the band wisely applying the lessons they’ve learned over the years to fortify their bold but familiar sound that, while not approaching a reinvention by any means, at least represents a definite rebirth.

Pop-radio metamorphosis hasn’t been fully achieved, and there are plenty of moments where pure beauty shines through.