Although Supermodel is derivative, it’s more often inventively imitative, rather than devolving into out-and-out mimicry.

Pharrell isn’t raising the game on G I R L--it’s a thoughtful, imaginative unit-shifter with some sincere themes running through it. But “different”? Not quite.

Intimate moments, however, like the haunting, heartbroken folk of ‘Tightwire’ show how primal this fourth studio collection could have been.

It makes for a focused, solid offering.

With its sharply defined highs and curiously odd misses, there’s more than enough here for dedicated fans to sift through, to extrapolate new shades of Springsteen from. For the rest of us, though, there isn’t quite enough to hold our attention.

It’s not a bad record by any stretch, albeit one where the turgid does bump ugly against the terrific.

Dear River is an interesting collection but, while pretty, these songs sometimes sound a little too slick or obvious.

Tracks still miss on occasions, and Glover writes with such self-awareness that the listener can regard him as a full-of-himself show-off, someone who believes he deserves musical success just because he’s achieved it in television.

Despite lending his rich, soulful vocals to an eclectic collection of tracks, including versions of songs originally by Coldplay and Wye Oak, the streamlined, country-tinged production waters the songs down.

Whilst previous albums were energetic and exuberant in scope, Eve largely lacks the duo’s trademark vigour and moments of originality.

Some decent-enough songs on an overly long album mostly containing sub-par tracks from an artist capable of much more.

Not a great pop album, then, but certainly the product of a great pop star.

Some may find something deep and spiritual amongst the cuts on Outside, but it just makes this reviewer want to stay indoors.

A fine sound indeed, but one that could have been better with a shade more variety injected into proceedings.

Repent Replenish Repeat is their most mixed work to date.

‘It’s Never Over’ is this band’s best TV On The Radio impression, and ‘Porno’ almost goes G-funk: a pleasant surprise. But undercooked electronics, impotent rhetoric, too-familiar crescendo-ing structures and an overall feeling that this needs further post-production attention render Reflektor an entirely substandard album.

At its best, Roaring 20s is clumsy and awkward. At its worst, it’s hectoring and condescending.

Easy to absorb musically and easy to ignore lyrically, Loud Like Love is 50 minutes of simply okay alt-rock.

Even at its worst this hotchpotch collection is pleasant fare.

Loose vocals meander through the whirling haze, the album more suited to intimate, personal listening rather than gatherings in the sun.

This is an auspicious start, but it too often seems that Samaris lack the inherent ability to fully realise their ambitions.

Reid’s soundtrack is vibrant, but it can’t save the album from its own tedium.

Cerulean Salt isn’t boundary breaking, but it possesses qualities enough to leave one charmed, if not consistently captivated.

Running to an hour long, Magna Carta becomes exhausting, bumping familiar motifs with such frequency that, as the album nears its close, the senses feel entirely numbed.

The whole exercise seems so carefully crafted and desperately needy that any joy found within The Weight Of Your Love wears off the more you play it.

Other than final track ‘A Certain Spirit’, the clearest crossover of irked techno and David Byrne-d, samba deconstruction, the melting pot (remember those aforementioned ingredients) that has gestated for five years ends up being served cold as gazpacho.

Ice On The Dune is patchy, and shows little progression from 2008 debut, ‘Walking On A Dream’.

It’s a dispiriting affair--a mishmash of glam rock, lad rock and heavier indie rock that fails to ignite.