The album is fun and enjoyable, but it never really reaches what they are capable of as a dynamic group. Every song bleeds into the next, almost sounding the same. It's not the worst feature ever, but as a collection, it doesn't stick out as anything exceptional.

At times, the blend is less than palatable and, frankly, too busy, as on the title track. However, this franticness is occasionally contrasted by a song that manages to draw you in.

Undoubtedly this album will get a cursory listen by fans of hardcore, while gaining a special place amongst those whom embrace and follow its tenets.

Unfortunately, there are a few too many moments with a "more is more" approach, and they hold the record back.

Drenched in fuzzy guitars, '60s girl-group melodies and a dash of light punk (closer "When I Was Yours" blends all three), it has plenty of sticky hooks and sing-along choruses.

These 10 dark soundtracks fail to chart new territory. They're not bad; they're just not challenging or frankly all that interesting.

At the expense of sounding more classically "Wolf Parade," the album suffices as a fun listen with some neat nostalgic nods, lopsidedness and all.

He's unable to find his footing, whether as a blues, soul or country singer, and the end results are a bland pastiche of all three.

While there are some standout cuts--most notably the Avalanches' Afro remake of "I'm a Cuckoo"--much of The Third Eye Centre should have remained on the cutting room floor.

Call It Love is an enticing work, but despite its many pleasing qualities, it doesn't quite stand out from the oversaturated electronic dream-pop scene.

In•ter A•li•a feels like a band trying to recapture the sound of their youth.

In large part, this compilation is underwhelming--there are exceptions, but the creativity is lacking and, to some degree, that's surprising, considering some of the talent on the roster.

This Is Not a Safe Place is a fine album with some songs that, with time, could become Ride staples. However, there are times where the band crumble under the pressure of bringing both a progression in sound, as well as a catering to their older audiences.

Though some of MG comes off unfinished and thematically skeletal, Gore does a fine job at utilizing a multitude of sounds on experimental-leaning tracks like "Creeper" and "Trysting."

Hidden Orchestra occasionally skirt the borderline of cheese, but thankfully manage to stay on the right side of it, for the most part.

This record would be great background music for a party or movie scene, but it does little to hold the listener's attention on its own.

In Technicolor keeps this young duo striving to sound youthful and adventurous.

There's no doubt that, technically speaking, Swollen Members are better now than they've ever been, but a decade-and-a-half in, they need to find new material.

Leery fans will find the uninspired drumming to be the least of their problems, as it fits perfectly with a far more glaring issue: uninspired songwriting.

Sleigh Bells should be applauded for their attempts to move beyond their simplistic formula, but the growing pains are evident and awkward to listen to.

Drank is an interesting take for fans to indulge in, but not an album you're likely to take any inspiration from, given its lack of real exploration.

August By Cake gets interesting when tracks like "Warm Up to Religion" and "What Begins on New Year's Day" tap into the melancholy that's occasionally haunted Pollard's melodies. Aside from those tracks, though, he shows little interest in the tinkering that made his earlier work so interesting.

Couple the simultaneously sparse and noisy production with the overall scant running time, and the album unfortunately fails to leave an impression, especially in an area of music that has become more and more saturated since the band's 2018 breakthrough.

This sophomore effort builds off her debut, but loses the plot in a mass of electronic blackness and vague grievances.

At its best, Mechanical Bull is standard, paint-by-numbers fare that attempts to sprint to the finish line. However, it runs out of gas and you have to wonder if Kings of Leon have as well.

Be Myself is hardly a classic, but it's another solid, light-hearted sounding collection with some clear standouts on it.

Need Your Light is certainly a step up from Beta Love, but Ra Ra Riot are missing the orchestral edge that originally set them apart from other groups in their genre, making it feel inessential despite being quite likeable.

Having more songs available to stream results in more royalties, though it doesn't equate to a flawless full-length.

Full Circle as a whole feels anti-climactic. It's a rough start for Haelos, aren't exactly short on potential--here's hoping they branch out and find themselves on future releases.

Golden Grrrls is an entertaining enough way to spend 30 minutes, although there's little below the surface.

Moments of souled-out bliss are only temporary, pushed aside by jarring, more aggressive fare reportedly stemming from his interest in the music of Death Grips.... These louder tracks are done no favours by the process by which they were engineered: compressed and distorted in a fashion that leaves Tyler's vocals largely inaudible.

As a riff rock mood board, most of the album passes by nicely enough, with the occasional embarrassing lyric (the aforementioned refrain in "Must've Always Been a Thing," repetitions of "Ring dong / Ring-a-ding dong" on opener "The Dooms Day Bells") being the only moments that are actively unpleasant to listen to.

It's all very un-Explosions-like, but it works to not only create diversity in their discography, but also as a moody album that can provide moments of levity.

On Nights in the Dark, California X are comfortable in their own skin and playing at the peak of their powers, but the album would have fared best as a pared down EP nonetheless.

The album is frustrating, with no middle ground, and the strengths don't quite make up for the weaknesses.

Much of it is too unremarkable for it to be anything but a decent starting point for Quarrell to build upon.

Although the quality of the album tends to range drastically, it does offer a few glimpses as to why his music is so strongly followed. In the end, though, Dwell winds up being somewhat lukewarm.

United by Madlib's crackly, jazzy samples, messy scratched hooks and bizarre sense of humour, Yessir Whatever is a gleeful trip down the rabbit hole of psychedelic rap.

Calico Review may leave the listener feeling a little parched, too, as it doesn't paint as bright and stirring a picture as either of its predecessors.

Forced Witness is perhaps too heavily grounded in the sounds of the decade [early '80s], to the point that a "heard it before" spectre hangs over the album.

On News from Nowhere, Darkstar have completed their transformation from playing in an overexposed genre to being in an irresolute one.

There's a hidden level of responsibility in his words, with Mill striking a balance between the glorification and the lamentation of his actions.

While the sonic textures remain in their typical buzzed out territory, the tracks where tempos ramp to harrowing speeds don't entirely work.

Stars Are Our Home is too much of a hodgepodge.

Sleepwalkers has some very good songs, but often comes off as cheesy and predictable--if a melody sounds familiar, it's probably because Fallon has sung one just like it before.

There are layers to Bleached that are yet to be uncovered. Whether it's worth waiting for is a question still left unanswered.

Sharp laments the weakening of expression though technology, which is fitting, as this applies to the album. Where there were once fireworks, the Rentals still deliver a bit of a lazer show.

There's undeniably something missing here.

While PND's production is typically on point, his songwriting and vocal skills are still evolving.

While working on the album, the band reportedly tried to blur the lines--primarily through scattershot vocals--to make it hard to discern who wrote what. In the process, they've lost the collaborative, intersectional sound that's always provided a sense of humanity heart at the centre of Animal Collective.

The result is a fine summer pop record that encourages listeners to approach as they will.

The confident strut and orchestral accents of "Poisonous Shadows" are somewhat cheapened by ill-advised whispered backing vocals, and the songwriting bottoms out in a handful of places. Still, it's miles ahead of their rather forgettable last album, and there's still enough here for fans to celebrate Megadeth getting back on track and starting a new chapter in the band's storied career.

At its best, the album retreads familiar ground.

[The guitars are] the most interesting thing about Broken Water and when they aren't around things plod along uneventfully.

In some ways, it works; the songs on Mind of Mine certainly skew towards more mature content and a sleeker, less bubblegum-y pop sound that's implemented expertly by producer Malay on silky smooth PBR&B-lite ballads like "It's You." It works less well on cuts like Kehlani collaboration "Wrong," which is gratingly heavy-handed with the Auto Tune--a problem that again rears its whiny head on "Fool for You."

With the majority of the tracks being in-and-around the two minute mark, Sage The Gemini presses the gas pedal too quickly before capturing your attention lyrically or sonically.

The production is top notch, Tip is rapping tighter than ever, and clearly knows who and what to work with, but the rare glimmers of originality and risk only further exposes the safeness of this Pharrell-tweaked new T.I. album.

A Wonderful Beast stands as a frustrating listen; a demonstration of what Calvin Johnson can do when he's motivated and what he can do when he's just fucking around.

There's nothing super memorable about this record, nor is there anything horribly offensive about it either. Ultimately, ACR Loco doesn't match A Certain Ratio's past glories, but it doesn't erase their legacy either.

Untogether does manage to lose its grip on your attention, at times, falling back on a bit of redundancy, but when it takes hold, it grabs you by the ears and fills them with a wistfulness that haunts you for days.

The risk of keeping things breezy is that tracks can often lack weight.

"Black Health," "Sober-delic," "Edgar the Elephant" and "Cardboa Negro" are the most compelling tracks, showcasing a midtempo churn where McDonald's rock'n'roll pedigree really shines. ... Despite the presence of these successes, Death still sounds like a band treading water.

Most songs fall into well-worn territory about young love and teenage politics, while there's sameness to too many of the songs. But when it works, and it often does, their charms are undeniable.

The best moments here are either instrumental or wordless, when Coyne's voice--which, though never technically impressive, always fit perfectly with each album's sound, whether it was the ragged bombast of their Soft Bulletin-era epics or the hushed haunt of The Terror--becomes a whispering (or even whistling) texture. Lyrically, though, Coyne appears to have exhausted any last nuggets of profundity he once had.

With every moment on Internationally Unknown I find odd, I ask myself "was that intentional?" Because I usually have no idea. ... Internationally Unknown is fun and probably not intended to be examined too far past the surface.

For a 13-track album, the majority is forgettable and doesn't live up to the colourful elements of Lewis's previous releases. The lack of energy on Caer leaves a longing for more originality and creativity he has once given us.

The problem isn't with Carnation's expansive instrumental palette, but with the way that the record struggles to use its sounds to captivate, often letting each part float away into the ether.

Despite its brisk pacing, Starz still suffers from bloat. Songs like "Iceheart," "Dance in the Dark," and "My Agenda" could have been left off the track list and made the album more coherent and enjoyable to experience.

On Big Boat, their rambling new album, veteran producer Bob Ezrin (Pink Floyd, Alice Cooper, Lou Reed) does his best to emphasize the band's considerable knack for genre-bending exercises.

There's a handful of above-average tunes here, and an earnestness that suggests Harry Styles will have a fruitful solo career.

It will undoubtedly take some time for fans of the band's earlier work to get acquainted with the stylistic shift, though A Perfect Circle's messaging might have benefited more from sounds tried and true.

At its best, Somewhere Else produces a few tracks worthy of putting on and dancing to in the middle of the night. At its worst, it's repetitive material that should've stayed on the cutting room floor.

Tracks like the rambling "Old Things," the hoedown-lite "Bluebird" and perhaps the most precious song about outlaw life, "Private Property," shoot for middle-of-the-road appreciation, sucking out any grit from the recording.

What this trio from Philadelphia, PA are offering, in spite of their rough-hewn hipster image, is nothing new and can be traced back to Barenaked Ladies through Simon & Garfunkel, Crosby, Stills & Nash and even the Kingston Trio.

The EP is good but not great. Diplo missed an opportunity to explore a variety of emerging EDM genres, instead releasing a slew of tracks that bang hard but fail to resonate.

Bleachers is agreeable and safe, but there's a fumbling listlessness to the whole thing, a lack of dynamism that makes it fade into white noise. Antonoff’s latest is not the grand, drive-off-into-the-sun record that Strange Desire or even Gone Now strove to be and sometimes became — Bleachers is a commuter’s record through and through.

The charm of the disconnected, breezy path that starts the album--seeming interludes punctuated by the odd story of a more solid, structured track--quickly wears thin when you realize said path meanders, the tracks mostly underdeveloped, only occasionally rolling into a bigger sound with tangible depth.

They avoid mere imitation, but a sense of aimlessness still floats through the record.

For now, it's likeable despite feeling a little too aimless.

Sonic Highways is an attempt to channel a different musical energy, but it's one that Grohl does a far better job capturing with his camera crew.

There's very little on offer to ground the listener here, which makes Maze of Woods a challenging collection; it's the aural equivalent of a 90-minute movie that feels like a 3-hour watch.

Although there are some standouts on the album, like the vocal push-and-pull of "Don't Move Back to L.A.," the soulful "Shelter Song" and the dramatic buildup of "Human Being Song," Sheff sounds rather lost throughout this album, hampered by indecisive arrangements and ambling verses.

When a guy comes all the way from Jakarta, that's unique, and you want something unique from him. Amen falls way short of that.

Though the band have toed the line between boyish charm and adolescent callousness for most of their career, this ambivalence has not aged well, and often obscures the more successful moments of sincerity on the record.

Black Rock is still filled with McCombs' spacious, isolating tracks ("Tonight at Ten," "Gold!"), which are best for lonely winter evenings.

A frustrating album that manages to both thrill and disappoint in equal measure, which suggests that with some trimming, this could have been an incredible EP.

Cruel Summer has too few of these transcendent moments and is decidedly less than the sum of its parts.

Essentially a pared down version of last year's singles box set--minus the singles, of course, and with a couple of additional tracks--it brings together acoustic takes on old favourites, a handful of covers and a muddy live cut.

At 13 tracks and close to 70 minutes in length, Abaporu just contains too many (albeit many terrific) ideas and stylistic flourishes to properly cohere as a singular work.

Check this out if you are a devoted member of the Pentagram coven, but otherwise, stick to the classics.

Breaking up the band's predictable metal onslaught is the mid-tempo stomp of "Morrigan," the slow-burning "Prayer for the Afflicted" and the ballad-esque "All for Nothing." While they're each a welcome reprieve from the sameness, these moments inadvertently temper any more chaos that could have perhaps been unleashed.

Bizarster is definitely worth a visit for Vibert fans and anyone who wants to relive some glory days, but considering the sheer size of his back catalogue, it's easy to see this one getting lost on the shelf.

Peace Is The Mission is equal parts tepid and garrulous, making it hard to get an overall read on this project. Probably best to not overthink it.

While the sound of this is pretty uniform the quality is all over the place and very dependent on the song being covered.

The album's missteps aren't egregious; rather, it's that after multiple listens, very little sticks. The Tourist's inconspicuousness is its biggest issue.

Without something steady to anchor it all, Hello Happiness sound less like an album and more like a compilation of stand-alones.

Here's hoping they ditch the alt clichés and find their own sound on the next record.

It's hard to hear a group fall so flat on the follow-up to an album like Subiza, but even though there are some bright moments, Apar is undoubtedly a letdown.