Songs like “Carpenter” and “Set the Fairlight” have some of that old-school Islands mentality, displaying Thorburn’s ability to write infectious grooves. But these moments are few and far between and easily overshadowed by the homogenous tones of “Natural Law Party” and the flighty “Marble”.

This may be a confused record, but it finds its place through a universal truth it manages to hit: so Skinner can't quite find his way in this world: who among us can?

As a package on its own, Air's Le voyage dans la lune doesn't hit especially hard, but when paired with the historic film, they become a dreamy, fulfilling piece of entertainment and mystery.

The Babies is a worthwhile enough diversion to make me genuinely excited for the next Vivian Girls record, and think that maybe Morby should stay in the spotlight and ask Woods to find a new bassist.

As out of place as the occasional vocals are, the production surrounding them is impressive enough to at least disregard the problems for the short-term.

Instead of charm you've got big dramatic gestures at every turn.

What results is a more even effort, a more accomplished record, by all stretches of the imagination, but one that lacks a single truly brilliant track to elevate it above the legion of Brooklyn guitar bands.

There's no deeper level to be revealed in Oberhofer's brief pop-rock tracks and for that reason Time Capsules II remains a consistently easy and pleasant listen.

One Track Mind aims for the feel of a great dusty road-trip album, and only through its staggering consistency does it slightly fall short of such heights. But when it hits its highs, as if often does, the collection is a transcendent experience.

Races' debut is a powerfully tenacious effort.

It's exceedingly confident with what it does and it spins a very individual and emotional tale that's more than worth investing in.

TEEN is another in a long line of mildly interesting but ponderous offshoots from already established bands.

While it may prove inconsistent to some, the experimentation and exploration ensures the album remains exciting, as you never know what’s arriving next. If the intention of this album was to show a rebirth, it succeeds, as Banks seems reinvigorated and ready to fearlessly conquer the demons that dare cross her path.

For the most part, Rad Times Xpress IV bubbles over with a love of over the top rock n roll that's impossible to not find endearing.

For most of Valhalla Dancehall, the diversity in sound works to British Sea Power's advantage, but it also leaves the album feeling weirdly unsatisfying.

While this record may not quite reach the highs of Set Yourself On Fire or even Heart for that matter, it's still a hell of an album that clearly and succinctly makes the case for the band's continued relevancy in an over-stuffed pop marketplace.

Jace Lasek does an admirable job with the production, channelling a more nocturnal version of his own band's widescreen grandeur, whilst Suuns themselves evince a knack for memorable melodies without really producing anything in the way of actual hooks.

So while the stylistic homogeneity erodes its high points, and it sometimes feels like one giant song, Within and Without harbours some rich, emotive sounds under its monochrome canopy.

This is the kind of album you just throw on to have fun. If anything, it proves My Chemical Romance don't need to be eccentric or theatrical to put out an enjoyable record.

Wolf is a serious mess.

Beal appears determined to make his debut as inaccessible as possible. Intentionally crappy instrumentation holds the album back, stealing the focus from what is an incendiary voice--a lot of casual fans will be dumbfounded by this grating, uneasy listening.

There are occasions in the album's 45 minutes that are pretty good.

Yeah, some of the electronic and percussive flourishes might be a little tired in 2011, but Givers sell it with such wide-eyed abandon and indulgent wonder that it's hard not to give in to the cacophonous stew of bursting pop euphoria.

At least in name, Heavy Rocks seems to promise a return to form for Boris. It isn't. It certainly manages a return to sludgy riffed-based heaviness, but the spirit of the record's orange prequel is nowhere to be found.

For all of its well-intentioned flaws and near-immaculate production, this record hums with a life of its own, confident in the abilities of its creator.

We have this perfectly pleasant and assuming piece of synth pop, neighing through a vocoder with the dying breath of the shamelessly beaten horse of retro-futurism.

All the talent in the world can't cover up the fact that Queen of the Wave simply tries too hard and succeeds too infrequently.

By the end of Tearless, Amnesia Scanner’s singular vision, for all its moments that both stun and disgust, has seeped its way in. There’s no looking back.