Produced by Youth, it’s a routeone volley of loud guitar riffs and peripatetic punk energy, railing at the establishment. It’s our world, they roar, and it’s on fire, so let’s not go gently.

A Brock-sung acoustic setting of We Took The Wrong Step Years Ago is a highlight, but the less said about how the massed saxes treat Down Through The Night the better. [Sep 2018, p.91]

Kasabian's USP has always been a cocky straddling of indie rock and rave. It's a shame they pretty much discard it here. [Aug 2022, p.68]

The title track about wanting to know more about your partner, is strong enough to rise above the clichés, but some others are not so fortunate. [Jun 2022, p.79]

It's mainly chirpy, dance-floor stuff. [Jul 2014, p.92]

Stockdale’s magpie career continues to show not an inkling of musical mutation. Let’s call it treadmill rock--one man putting a lot of effort into going absolutely nowhere.

The predictable impression of a rich man's plaything cast with superior company remains. [Aug 2013, p.84]

The lyrics are packed with so many trite clichés that you can’t help but wince, whether he’s wishing for world peace on Make Love Not War (which manages to make room for the Trump-supporting Love to thank the USA ‘and all the folks protecting us very day’), dredging up seafaring love metaphors on Too Cruel or fashioning sappy eco ballads like Only One Earth.

It would be exhausting to list all the crimes these two commit in the name of rock'n'roll on this record. ... Risible. [Sep 2022, p.75]

The worst thing is, for all the nauseating country-rock-lite choruses, this is agonisingly catchy. [Summer 2013, p.89]

The Kids Are coming (To Take You Down) is the one highlight of the album, a thundering radio anthem redolent of Cheap Trick. Its carefree joy is notably absent pretty much everywhere else. [Nov 2019, p.81]

At times recalling the impressive yet aimless psych squalls of early Verve, Ride or Tame Impala, and at others of Can trying to make sense of 1980s pop radio. [Aug 2018, p.91]

Post-pop indie rock at its drabbest. [Jun 2020, p.89]

For all the loving homages to past recording techniques, they sound laboured and bored. [May 2013, p.84]

A great version of The Fugs' Carpe Diem aside, Everybody Loves Sausages feels like an in-joke that was never funny to begin with. [May 2013, p.87]

One of the most musically interesting things he's done in years. ... However, a bitter aftertaste lingers long after the final notes. [May 2020, p.79]

A classical version of a rock album only reveals how tonally conservative rock is (formally, Quadrophenia’s compositions would have sounded hidebound in the late 19th century), while at the same time revealing classical music’s inability to convey the electric volatility and the spine-tingling, physical frisson that’s unique to rock.

As it is, there’s a certain Wagnerian tweeness about the record, its changes predictable, it’s progressions too easily resolved, his tunings over-familiar. The whole thing feels like drinking several pints of spring water.

Snapshot consists largely of new material written to ape the 50s and 60s standards they've been covering live since puberty. And that's it's downfall. [Nov 2013, p.95]

As a compendium of rock styles, it’s hard to beat--maybe that’s what they mean by Little Victories. But it’s all quite characterless.

All flutes and bubbles, A Jammed Exit could be a Jethro Tull B-side, and only dedicated lovers of the eight-minute free-form scree solo need apply to Nervous Tech (Nah John), which is essentially Frank Zappa having a fit. Run for the exits.

Papa Roach's not entirely convincing attempt to music in on the action. [Feb 2019, p.88]