While the playing is never less than exceptional – displaying Mark Knopfler’s assured rhythmic sensibility, and his lyrical lead styles – the arrangements on ‘One Deep River’ can sometimes falter.

At times uneven, the project stands as testament to the unique bond between these two A-list rap talents.

‘Everything I Thought It Was’ can sometimes be forgettable across its 18-track largesse, while thematically it feels bunched around a cluster of feelings.

‘COMING HOME’ competently portrays love as part Afrodisiac, part pulse-racing chase, part languorous and lived-in sensation. ‘COMING HOME’ is also tangential to the live spectacle, and that’s okay.

As with the twin EPs that preceded it, however, the glimpses of originality strewn across ‘Lovegaze’ are too often sparse islands in a sea of pleasant but generic etherea.

With a 19-track span and a colossal guest cast, not everything on ‘BLOCKBUSTA’ lands. There’s a feeling sometimes that these collaborations were done separately and then spliced together, with some moments lacking cohesion, or a sense of chemistry. ‘HOMAGE’ with Kodak Black feels flat, for example, while the record’s eclecticism prevents ‘BLOCKBUSTA’ from truly coalescing. That said, there are moments of real bravery.

Its primary strength lies in the way Drake threads himself and finds pockets within the grooves and crevices, foregoing lustre and grandiosity in favour of an understated performance piece. .... There’s an existential paranoia about this recent iteration of Drake, however.

This album is a step in the right direction in terms of mood, but it’s an overstep in terms of the emotional burden Brown is offering. The choruses are repetitive and don’t fit, and the take away should be focusing more on balance. However, it’s not a question of if he can get that balance right, but when.

Ultimately, the Achilles heel of the whole project is how invested, how much fans will truly believe in this. To some, it’s a meme stretched to breaking point, the elasticity of his flute-playing hauled out to become an opaque sheet, void of detail. To others, it’s an excellent – almost unclassifiable – mood piece. Whether it’s the meanderings of an internet-savvy millionaire or the crucial work of a modern day ambient auteur is perhaps in the eye of the beholder.

The chilled, languorous template delivers on value, but offers little else and you can’t help but feel like these are unnecessary filler tracks. At its core, ‘Scarlet’ is an interesting exploration into the world of ego trips, the trappings of fame, escapism and novelty, a welcome deviation with a heightened sense of maturity and finesse.

In truth, the material does a decent enough job of filling the acerbic, punk shaped void left since their decade long absence.

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.

Packing so much in comes at the risk of a more diluted sound and an album which lacks a strong sense of cohesive unity. This is most apparent in the first two ‘planets’, where the result is a little muddled. When not biting off more than they can chew by integrating three entirely different featured artists within a five track part (see ‘Off Planet Part 1’), the album is a fresh and interesting take on experimental electronica.

On occasion, the record feels quite lazy in its lyrical direction and yet too direct, falling into moments of cringe rather than what could have been perceived as powerful and fun.

Some moments are impressive, like the eight-minute epic of a title track ‘Take Me Back To Eden’, which sprawls and writhes between textures and knows just when to spotlight frontman Vessel’s holy outpourings. ... But the issue is, this opus comes over an hour into the album, and follows a number of lengthy tracks that seem to be trying to do the same thing, but less successfully.

Plays it safe, doubling down on the formula that made his debut so beloved by fans, while making only subtle changes.

‘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.

The result is a solid, if overly safe album that avoids some of the pitfalls of the past but fails to ignite the heart.

‘The Price Of Progress’ is a perfectly functional Hold Steady record, no more and no less.

Courtesy of the blandly produced, overly-compressed vocal deliveries and guitar riffs from Jonas Brothers’ producer John Fields, the act all too easily fall into the inevitable trap of highly-structured song progressions backed by half-baked guitar solos on ‘Same Language’ and underwhelming chorus chants on ‘Kool’.

In her haste to tell her story, ‘My 21stCentury Blues’ suffers from a frenzied second half that cushions the gut-punch it could have been.

‘Five Easy Hot Dogs’ isn’t going to win DeMarco any more fans, nor will it distract from his past triumphs. ... This instrumental offering will, like most of his tunes, act as great company for those who just wanna lay back and disconnect from it all.

A record that feels very much like a side-step, ‘Me vs Myself’ contains little of the soul-searching that the title suggests.

If anything, however, new album ‘Faith In The Future’ is simply too nice. The songwriting is sturdy and well-formed, leaning on his indie roots – you can hear ghosts of the Gallaghers, whispers of Chris Martin – without ever truly channelling something dangerous, or edgy. ... It just doesn’t raise the pulse, or quicken the blood-flow in a way you might long for.

This new album, then, is the perfect piece of fan service. It’s Aubrey on the mic, 21 Savage in full flow. The roll out – which pirated a Tiny Desk session and copied a Vogue cover – was pitch perfect, two artists subverting the expectations placed on them...It’s a shame, then, that ‘Her Loss’ often feels entirely predictable. The foes that punctuate their bars are well-worn – less talented adversaries trying to gain clout; love interests who leech on their wealth and prestige – and while it’s nice to hear Drake unleashed, at times 21 Savage can feel like a passenger.

‘The Loneliest Time’ feels a far cry from the saccharine star that launched Jepsen’s career but proves her musical pliability.

This album is, to be clear, an ambitious, stylish, coherent work of fine art. ‘Tranquility Base…’ grew on me, this may too. But I can’t help but feel that with ‘The Car’, Arctic Monkeys have taken a wrong turn.

In spite of much of ‘CHARLIE’ missing complexity or a distinctive flair, the album remains punchy and bright and what Puth lacks in poetry, he makes up for with glimpses of pure pop excellence.

‘Doggerel’ isn’t a bad record, it’s just missing the audacious grit that is so entwined with the bizarre charm that makes the PIXIES so remarkable.

‘Curtain Call 2’ is at its most engaging when the Detroit figure simply cuts back on the Billboard tie-ins, and reminds us all why he became such a revered rapper in the first place. ... As a project, however, ‘Curtain Call 2’ is weighed down by its flaws. There’s no ignoring the wayward path Eminem has taken over the past two decades, and the tracklisting reflects this.

A record of fireworks, but few surprises. The songs kept succinct, punchy, and direct; there’s no house production about-turns, no moments of revelation, just sheer, unadulterated Khaled. It’s like being strapped in to a rollercoaster – at points its exhilarating, at others terrifying, and by the end you’re eager for it to be over.

An album that is often slight, and occasionally cartoonish. There’s a lingering feeling that not only can UK rap do a lot better, but so can Aitch.

While it does knock out some definite singalongs, sprinkling in some fun hooks and catchy structures, there is something missing beneath the veneer of theatricality. This is an album that hints at complexity, but it is inevitably overshadowed by Urie’s one-man-show.

A bold, contained statement nonetheless, doubling down on her niche style with a few twists and turns brings us some truly great moments to cherish.

The record is funky, it might sound good near some waves (the title is also a play on the .wav format for digital music files, which Harris is constantly sending to studios across the world), and the beats generally bounce happily along. It does what it says on the tin.

At times frustrating, ‘The Last Slimeto’ is never less than entertaining. A bracing, defiant gesture, it finds NBA YoungBoy embracing freedom with both hands.

There are a few points in the album where Lauv begins to take an interesting turn, only to retreat to familiarity.

While ‘PANORAMA’ at times feels repetitive, there’s certainly moments that smoulder with passion, sparkling with Kiyoko’s signature charm.

It’s just unfortunate that ‘ISTHISFORREAL?’ is less of a philosophical treatise and more a frustrated misrepresentation of Purdy’s abilities.

It’s not expressly about anything. This is music that performs confidence, that uses confidence as a genre rather than embodying it in any convincing sense.

While this might not be the most fun album to listen to, Neil Young and Crazy Horse deliver solid performances that elevate it from seven songs of despondency.

Haines’ singular vocals have always been the band’s not-so-secret weapon, and it’s here [on ‘Enemies Of The Ocean’] where they shine greatest, jumping from hauntingly beautiful to full-on rock goddess mode. However, much of the rest of the album just goes to highlight how it’s a game of two halves. You could literally compile a list of the numbers that are over five minutes as the standouts and ones under as pedestrian.

If they’d dared to be a little more vulnerable with their sonic approach, ‘World Below’ could’ve been an immense album. Nonetheless, Baby Strange are back in valiant style.

Neither one thing or another, the lack of definition on the project results in something quietly rebellious, but curiously unsatisfying.

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.

At times pretty, at others curiously appealing, ‘AIR’ is more-often-than-not simply boring, ca selection of mood music that fills up space without every truly saying anything.

While elements of ‘Every Shade of Blue’ may struggle to cut through its over-ambitious production value, the album is bound to translate well on the big stage regardless.

‘Come Home The Kids Miss You’ illustrates that he’s not quite there yet, but he’s certainly Justified.

It’s not a bad record – the highs more than justify your entrance – but with a rumoured follow up on the way, perhaps it’s time for Future to break a few of his own rules once more.

While undeniably sweet on a surface level, 'Cry Mfer' is a clear reaction against the self-seriousness that runs rampant throughout indie music, and while its conception proved challenging for My Idea, this debut is a clear sign that specific working relationships can bear remarkable fruit.

At best a fiery evocation of the electronic elements that team thrive on, ‘Paradise Again’ isn’t hell-on-Earth, but it doesn’t leave you enraptured.

This awareness of his public perception seems to dominate the album, even in the tracks that don’t outright address it. As a result, the overall mood is far less authentic.

There’s enough here to make even the most discerning New Rap playlist – but as a body of work it doesn’t land in the effortless fashion that made EARTHGANG such a pivotal pairing.

While a fun and energetic record, much of the songwriting falls into the somewhat forgettable. Everyone is bringing their A-game, and they're having a blast while doing so, but nothing entirely sticks to the ribs.

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.

There are moments where Dior shows his undoubted potential and those moments save this album from being completely mediocre, unfortunately, those moments don’t come anywhere near often enough.

The outer edges of this album are impressive, but why couldn’t they penetrate the main parts of these songs and this album more? Instead, they are eye-opening but ultimately useless ideas that must make way for the dry 808 beats we’re all too familiar with.

While casual listeners might find the overall listen a bit sparse, there’s no doubt it’s the perfect soundtrack to a Halloween party, or indeed a Halloween Movie™️.

Ultimately ‘Fighting Demons’ works almost as a tribute record, gathering fragments of his undoubted genius. Whether it’s a true Juice WRLD album, though, is another matter.

It won't appeal to those who prefer his party anthems and vibrant disco, but for those who want to see yet another side to this most prolific of musical minds, it's a voyage worth taking.

It’s a theatrical 10-piece song cycle that neatly extends their work, while nodding to what came before. At its best – opener and lead single ‘I Still Have Faith In You’ for example – it comes close to reaching the transformative peaks ABBA scaled all those years ago. Yet for a piece of fan service ‘Voyage’ remains confusingly slight.

O’Connell colours firmly between the lines. His ideas do not stray beyond the conventions you’d expect for each singer-songwriter outfit he puts on from song to song.

Always Inside Your Head is often a frustrating album, peppered with sparks of genius and disappointing dead-ends. Ultimately, though, it’s another example of an artist constantly – restlessly, you might say – developing.

Unashamedly broad, it can lack detail and punch; yet ‘=’ has something about it that is difficult to shrug off, while being hard to truly relate to.

‘Music Of The Spheres’ is never less than listenable, but rarely raises the pulse.

Spread across 18 tracks, Meek Mill's creative contouring isn't fully consistent, leading to some awkward moments; 'Love Train' and 'Love Money' feel insubstantial, while the mid-section loses its punch.

It hardly moves mountains as a standalone effort, but is moderately impactful and somewhat befitting of its lofty pandemic-era presentation.

When it punches hard, ‘Jose’ doesn’t miss. ... Yet ‘Jose’ – like Drake and Kanye’s efforts, previously – is led down by quality control. The creativity is undiminished, but it struggles under the weight of its 24 track span – clocking in at more than hour, the record at times tries the patience.

Aubrey Graham hands over his fifth project to cross 80 minutes, an hour and a half smorgasbord of all-new tracks. In his defence, the Drake cuisine is far too extensive and varied at this point, but this dilemma has been around for a number of years now and some sort of sacrifice for a better, more cohesive project has to be made if he wants to release another classic.

There are some real moments of beauty on the record - 'In Blur' aches and sparkles, whilst singles 'Great Mass Of Colour' and 'The Gnashing' showcase a band adept at building beautiful soundscapes even with the guitars turned down - but at a certain point, the album suffers from the lack of depth in Clarke’s vocals, or range in his melodies.

A bold gesture weighed down with excess, 'The Voice Of The Heroes' is a worthy experiment, one that feels destined to be a cult favourite.

Continual evolutions has pushed them away from their roots, feeling less like a band and more like a committee, marking out different strategies without truly owning one themselves.

Some good, many passable, a few questionable, to say the least. There's plenty here to pick out and enjoy, and that's all that will matter when the single songs are playing in your pocket, but after all the gems the label has given us over the years, 4AD deserved something better.

Hemmed in by their own ambitions, ‘The Battle At Heaven’s Gate’ is an oddly contradictory experience, one that finds Greta Van Fleet truckin’ on up a one way street.

Feels curiously unfocussed, and lacking in purpose.

Spanning an array of genres including worldbeat, jazz, classical, blues, rock and new-age, 'Duets' is an solid collection from one of the UK’s most prolific singer-songwriters.

The blistering debut is a collection of delightfully pungent tracks, delivered in all their unashamed, reckless glory.

The act of combining musical stylings that range from African tribal beats through to Talking Heads inspired synth pop, with lyrics that seek to overcome a divisive social culture is an intention nothing short of universal. It’s just in the execution where he falls short, leaving little to the imagination of the listeners on an album that strikes a rather predictable tone.

It's no secret that remix albums are often tricky affairs, especially when meshed with beloved rock songs. Luckily everything off Pony's dark twin is enjoyable, if not essential sounding. Overall, it’s a fun curio worth exploring and saving a few of its more ambient moments.

There’s a lingering feeling, though, that 2 Chainz hasn’t quite distilled exactly what to do with the opportunities being presented to him.

For the most part, it’s actually pretty entertaining.

'Extinction Level Event 2' is often bloated and monotonous, making its one hour (plus!) run-time challenging to endure. What could be a colourful and important album is unequivocally tarnished by the tedious, repetitive, and needless opening seven tracks.

Major Lazer’s best songs have always acted as overstimulating sugar-rushes - but the formula that was once fresh and boundary-pushing for mainstream pop now sounds outdated.

In ‘Love Goes’ Sam Smith has produced a flawed but decent return that mirrors the introspection of this strange, difficult year.

Herring’s blessed baritone vocals teamed with their trademark bittersweet synth and hefty baselines will continue to make for decent, honest albums for as long as the four-piece please, but the introduction of a faster, lighter tempo in tracks like ‘The Painter’ and ‘Hit The Coast’ could mark the beginning of a much-needed dive into uncharted musical waters.

Their interpretation of Barrett Strong’s ‘Money (That’s What I Want)’ and the mysterious sounding ‘Fever’ brings a different dimension to these classic songs and breathes new life into these and other legendary songs.

We’d be looking at an even better record had it allowed the space required for her often unrecognised jaw-on-the-floor vocals, but as a whole Melanie C has drawn from a whirlwind year to make a jubilant album that understands where she is right now.

Tracing the lush synth lines running through this album shows Epworth’s love affair with the retro electronics of the 1980s. But their pairing with the sensibilities of modern pop ends up feeling less like the 80s, and more like last decade’s 80s nostalgia.

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.

‘Spell My Name’ [boasts] moments of rich maturity, the kind of lyrical openness that has always made her work so intriguing. Yet there’s also an unwillingness to embrace contemporary movements in R&B, in the manner of, say, Brandy’s recent LP.

The project doesn’t really find the band moving outside their comfort zone – indeed, ‘Candid’ is defined almost by how resolutely ‘Whitney’ it feels.

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

‘Under My Influence’ is a bold undertaking, but, at times, it feels unfinished. While many singles and supplementary songs showcase the band’s talent, much of the record weighs in as forgettable filler sounds that take some time in getting accustomed to.

It’s an album that Beths fans will doubtless like very much, and it offers a strong mission statement to the future that this is a band hungry to expand and determined to explore the hitherto untrodden ground. It’s just a shame that, on this project alone, they’ve not delivered anything of career-defining merit.

The full length return of The Streets, it offers Mike Skinner at his most vivid and most forgettable, offering moments of illumination before retreating into darkness.

At times, ‘Lil Baby 3’ comes close to grappling with maturity, but Lil Yachty’s version of adulthood feels distinctly shallow.

Playing it safe just a little too often, it finds John Legend in full flow, demonstrating his undeniable versatility – yet it can also appear to be covering the bases, offering breadth for the sake of breadth.

The songs are a little more distinctive, and they’re crafted a little better.