He should be commended for going light on the MC features--the bluntly-titled ‘Grime’ is proof enough that he can hold his own on a beat.

The dirges are ditched, yet the previous elements they made their name with are overdone.

GINGER is new ground for Brockhampton, and a gentle nudge to others, urging them to go on their own paths of rediscovery and explore their roots. Thing is, we might need a bit more than a gentle nudge.

It's not always pleasant, but in a funny way, it's quite compelling.

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

The frustration bubbles under the surface for the listener, that, competent and effecting as this album is, it could have been so much more. Here’s to next time.

Despite the two opposing moods of the album, the candid and dark lyricism is the only consistent effort in the album. It’s a massive shame, considering how much headway the band made with ‘Asymmetry’, but Mallory Knox have found themselves half a step behind their peers once again.

'Limbo' is certainly not a representation of his best work, but rather an example of a talented artist not pushing his boundaries.

Unfortunately, HAAi’s music here tends to be a bit stiffer, forgoing the benefits of a heady groove in favor of direct impact. If you’re up for it, it might well help you ascend, but it often feels like a forced way to go about it.

‘Driving Just to Drive’ drives safely. Perhaps too safely. We may yearn for Maltese to put his foot down, but it could be argued there is solace in safety. Not everything has to be hell for leather.

From opener ‘Cheap Talk’ onwards, this is never anything but the purest DFA1979, served flaming hot. Which was just fine back when--but it’s definitely a disappointment to not hear the band even hinting at an expansion of their stripped-raw sound, just deep-groove bass and heavily hit drums.

The Scene Between is a happy remedy to a cynical industry and scary, un-groovy world. One listen and you'll be transported back to your teens--when some sunshine and a little dance would cure all.

Peter Katis’s production can at times strangle the band’s live thrash.

Diamandis is using her music to discover who she really is. That said, by the end of Froot, we're still none the wiser.

There are enough moments of musical eclecticism here to suggest that Built On Glass is his solid starting point, rather than a definitive statement.

We get a less focused effort, with peaks and troughs in its quality. Yet the best tracks off the album are better than any of the band’s previous work. It’s just a shame that the weaker songs fall below the standard The 1975 set for themselves.

By focussing in on softer deployments of electronics and more subtle processing, and staying resolutely in an ambient soundworld, Art In The Age Of Automation does feel comparatively safe; well turned-out and nicely polished, but generally risk-free in execution.

A fine line between unpredictable flair and china shop bull.

Between Waves is an album created by a man who knows what he’s doing; and that’s the problem. He could create satisfactory albums till the end of days, but he’ll need to rip up the rulebook if he’s to grab people’s attention in this fickle age.

Krept and Konan end up sounding like features on their own songs.

At their best though, Junip’s exotic folk gems have a slow-burning charm and are an impressive step forward from Gonzalez’s easy listening cover versions.

Lee ... continues his proclivity for sonic innovation with a plethora of funky grooves and drum lines - with no loops in earshot. AM's psychedelic guitar licks, basslines and vocals underpin an overriding '60s vibe.

Teeth Dreams is the New Yorkers’ burliest record to date, less feel-good and chorus-driven than previous efforts, but there’s still much to love

[Patience] boasts several colourless, uninspired tracks.

Unfortunately, with much of the record polished to a dull gleam, there’s little else that succeeds in rising above a pleasant but otherwise unremarkable album.

[Wonky has] not improved on any of their previous work. They are merely chasing the shadows cast from their own trademarked head torches.

Foreverland embraces the clichés and largely follows a formula. Certain subject matter and song titles perpetuate a particular illusion and the middle of the road radio play has trickled in according to plan.

This record sounds like every catchy guitar song you've ever heard.