His prodigious talent is undoubted, but a second dose of puppy punk feels suggests Baldi is in cruise control.

As attempts at storming the mainstream go, this looks like a surefire winner, but musically it feels like a lesser take on Outkast's The Love Below.

The musical equivalent of a coffee table book this is a poised, polished album of covers and collaborations spanning a decade.

Predictably pristine, ultimately inessential.

Who cares if Stoltz listens to the Kinks and Beatles too much when he sings like an angel?

Love him or hate him, you can't deny that Ronson can certainly put an album together.

Rave horns echo like WW2 sirens being played on a fucked-up ghetto blaster while the cast of House Of 1000 Corpses do their best Gucci Mane impressions--an interesting, if perhaps slightly contrived, oddity.

While songs 'Bondage Of Fate', 'If You Want It' and 'Sometimes' present a classic vibe, standalone track 'Pulse' is equally akin to the electronic sound of today. Nice touch.

Unfortunately, the album barely reaches the most reasonable of expectations. The strength of their flawless magnum opus, 'Better Than Love', overshadows every other song on the LP.

With a sound centred around a tunable percussion instrument called a hang (think mellow steel drum), skittering jazz drums, saxophone and loops, the quartet, who live Monkees-like in a shared house in East London, serve up a fresh vision of jazz, drawing sounds from across the globe.

Good stuff, but their epics, like 'The Quick Mile', are curiously unengaging. When that track is immediately followed up by the captivating Eno-esque minimalism of 'Waves & Radiation', it's clear that their real talent still lies in crafting eerie electronic vistas.

Sharing the pop soul sensibilities of Squeeze with just a dash of Brendan Benson, there's even a soupçon of harpsichord in there. What's not to like about these small songs with a big heart?

For all its forward thinking, the combination of shoe-gaze and synthy electronica leads the record inevitably back to the 1980s, mirroring the haunting sound that M83 have perfected so well.

Whilst each track delivers exactly what is to be expected from an IAK album it is a little disappointing that there seems to have been no development from the previous outing.

It's all very "nice" but only sporadically truly vital.

Wasted Daylight, a sugary, ambient number, offers a particularly sublime performance from Millan, as does He Dreams He's Awake, of Campbell. However, these two are the fairly obvious highlights in an otherwise misfired effort.

The good tracks on 'Body Talk' are of such a high quality that it definitely makes it worthwhile to check this album out but you are soon left with a feeling that the subsequent releases in this series will cobble together one amazing album and one really bad one.

Marina describes the album as “intricately produced” and that’s where the problem lies. Such attention to detail leaves some of the songs feeling pretty sterile and, as a result, it’s a frustrating listen.

More Waitrose advert than classic Wrigley’s; the Black Keys’ raw power’s been polished. Some things are meant to stay rough around the edges.

Drawing on a cast of helpers, most notably Madness' Suggs and Mike Barson, the album boasts their usual eclectic mash of styles, all held together under the Audio Bullys flag.

Bleak as you like, but strangely cathartic in many places, it's absolutely the worst album to soundtrack your Christmas lottery win. For the rest of us dour wageslaves, it's perfect.

With production by Richard Goettehrer, who has worked with Blondie, the Go-Gos and others, sees the Dum Dum Girls sound achieve an authentic, balanced sound, deliberately lo-fi and tinny yet listenable and intoxicating.

On their way to maturity, YSP!WSD! lost some of the punkiness that made them exciting, but they still have hooks and groovy synths, so the growth is graceful.

It’s a refreshing diversion from yer average psych-noise fare that’ll hopefully be explored further on future offerings.