Ideas are left unexplored, while 2Chainz innate abilities – on his day, one of the best MCs around – is clouded by a willingness to pack the tracklisting with guests. If this truly is his last trap project, then perhaps a change is overdue.

Flawed but unbowed, it is a fascinating but frustrating listen.

Overall, a pleasantly harmless album with some clear highlights. However, it will be interesting to see how the US singer varies her work as she begins her solo career.

Overall it's a robust, respectable detour but will leave some fans pining for the smoky chanteuse of old.

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

While the album is undeniably well produced and generally well performed, unfortunately Woods' fails in his first attempt to stand out from the crowd.

Suck It And See is not a disappointment, because we've learned never to expect the Monkeys' next move, but it's not half as fun as we'd like it to be.

They’re worth the minor missteps along the way.

Swift’s vocals are triumphant, soaring, wild throughout--she is a fantastic singer, and 1989 does showcase her ability to attack a track of any style and claim it as her own, even if the ultimate results feel like a compromise had to be found to make the final cut.

A bizarre little record, Music And Words was seemingly kicked off in 2007. With a seven-year gestation, it would be nigh on impossible to maintain a full sense of coherency, but the twin artists just about manage it.

Music and performer as one, it's hard to know where I Break Horses begin and their walls of sound end. Vocalist and Swedish nephilim Maria Lindén is a calming apparition, yet indeterminate when overpowered by the huge celestial sheets of Fredrik Balck's new wave order.

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.

On an album centring around concepts of storytelling and reflection, Iggy Pop’s voice remains phenomenal. It always will. However, an underwhelming feeling lingers throughout 'Free', one which is hard to ignore.

Good, but for completists.

If that's not your bag, then this won't convert you, but if intrigue you have; then check it out.

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.

The real issue with the album though, more than any other, is its length (and the inconsistency that this brings with it). Few albums ever benefit from being 17 tracks long, particularly when there are obvious candidates for exclusion. And without wanting to sound too dismissive of the aforementioned chart ambitions, it’s here that sacrifices could have been made for the benefit of a more coherent and engaging record.

So the bleakly beautiful is still there, but the flashes are sporadic.

Ending with an attempt to find hope amid despair on ‘Darkest Hour’, ‘Faith’ is tailor-made to thrill their mass army of fans, balancing fresh ideas with that glamorous melancholy.

Artistic development and risk-taking is to be applauded. With risk, though, comes the possibility of mis-steps. Sadly, here, this is what it feels like Tamaryn's done.

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.

There are plenty of hooks and the pace rarely relents, but it’s hard to ever imagine Colors ever being in anyone’s top five favourite Beck albums.

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.

Everyone loves to reminisce, and we're suckers for well-crafted songs, but we also need to be challenged a little more than this boys.

Like acid (which, again, he never touched) this record is illuminating, often inaccessible, often scary and most people would hate it. But it's still one hell of a trip.

Dusty Notes is an easy listen, but a Meat Puppets album shouldn’t be easy--it should be a hot mess. Somewhere along the way the Kirkwood brothers lost the ramshackle charm that made them everyone’s favourite musician’s favourite musician.

Malkmus' third (or fourth depending on which folklore you believe) outing with The Jicks, is a disappointing collection of hits and misses--with the latter winning on points.

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.