'A Billion Heartbeats' perhaps lacks the cutting perspective or lyricism of classic protest records, while managing to present the revolutionary spirit of old in a modern context.

It's a bold and stark opus worthy of attention, if your attention span is long enough.

Random Access Memories confuses, disappoints and grates.

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.

This album captures an occasionally combustible but largely uncomfortable sound of a previously fearless and pioneering band caught in a crisis of confidence, overriding their own musical instincts to pursue an idealised version of themselves they picture in their own heads.

Things are prone to occasional lulls with three tracks exceeding ten minutes. However, Johansson is capable of some beautifully stirring music, and when this album soars, it is a treat.

‘42.26’ - unmasked as the previously released ‘Feels Like Summer’ - and ‘47.48’ (which features his son Legend Glover) are the only other enjoyable tracks on the project. The other songs seem to fade and ultimately becomes background noise with no proper substance compared to Donald Glover’s other projects. Lacking the strong narrative thrust so apparent on his past albums, the project is incredibly disappointing.

A beautiful recording but an occasional listen.

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.

Herring’s growling vocals prevent proceedings from becoming too gloopy or nostalgic, and make Singles a new-wave treasure.

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.

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.

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.

The only maturity in their sound is towards a more ambient quarter. Elevator music not quite, but rising out of the background might be an issue.

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.

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.

The Dreaming Room is an enormously frustrating record, as Mvula clearly has it in her to be an incredible artist. But at this point in her career, she remains a orchestra in need of a conductor.

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.

They’re worth the minor missteps along the way.

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.

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.

The real issue is that in a genre filled with imitators, many whom Deerhunter no doubt inspired, we need a bit more bang for our buck. When the oddities on this album ride so high they should have let complete weirdness take over.

As unconventional in approach as ever, the set extrapolates from their previous ventures and results in a confident and competent continuation of established qualities.

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.

As it stands FM! is little more than a placeholder--an interesting but self-indulgent sketch from an artist who could be creating masterpieces.

Turner’s inconsistent seventh LP may not compare with the likes of ‘Love Ire & Song’ and ‘Poetry Of The Deed’ but a willingness to experiment paired with a deceptively simple message make it a decent, if unremarkable addition to his stellar back catalogue.

Loma is an interesting concoction, but one that doesn't always necessarily gel. It's undoubtedly a lovingly produced set of tracks, filled with an almost tangible level of texture, but the songs often don't match their treatment.

There’s a lack of precision, with a flabby middle section finding ‘Begin To Begin’, for example, looping aimlessly. Yet when it hits home, Reality Testing more than justifies Lone’s tag as one of the most flexible, dextrous producers in the game.