This slight, shrill and, ultimately, underwhelming debut album has its moments.

This is a maddeningly inconsistent collection, with more misses than hits – though Kelly’s best moments do go some way towards atoning for his flaws.

Howling good fun from Lupine superstar.

Neil doesn’t do things by halves. His words and melodies are, like Roy Orbison, Cecil B De Mille scaled. That said, there are more than a few points where he misses the mark.

Patchy covers album from alt.rock veterans.

80s clubland legend Grace Jones returns with Hurricane, a patchy but fascinating comeback record.

These are early days, of course, but some worrying lapses into blustery Editors’ territory aside, Foals prove to be a tricksy, livewire prospect.

For just under two decades, brothers Bubba and Matt Kadane have spent the majority of their time together crafting as near perfect slices of sonic Americana as they could.

Steady as she goes from the indie institution.

Sprawling America travelogue stays strictly old school.

Surprisingly radio-friendly System Of A Down spin-off.

Starry-eyed debut hits more often than misses.

Donkey is the mediocre second outing Brazilian electro rockers CSS – will it show that they have more substance beyond being a mere good-time party band?

If you pardon our French, Clinic’s fifth album is pretty fucked up--and yet it's also their best effort to date.

Lo-fi freakster doffs cap to minimalism & screaming chipmunks.

Warm-hearted folk pop from New England.

Shine is over-ripe with hokey Casio drum machines, soprano sax, and other things that nudge the tone towards easy listening.

It’s not as nebulous as their last album--and it doesn’t deliver the melodic thrills of Last Splash--but Mountain Battles has personality, spirit, warmth and tenderness in abundance.

Raw, sparse, low-key, vocodered hip hop.

Newcomer electro-rockers produce a hyperactive, ear-decimating album that screams with heavy synth and rhythms, but dies with a lack of inspiration and creativity.

This album leaves no doubt that the former Beach Boy is now fully recovered from the 1967 nervous breakdown that effectively stalled his career for decades.

Surprisingly agreeable return from the High Priestess of country kitsch.

Surprisingly enjoyable party rock.

The potency of the admirable sentiments is undermined by the lacklustre execution.

Although combining an assortment of sounds may seem risky, they’ve managed to produce a solid album, fusing jazz, soul, ‘60s rock ‘n’ roll and playful lyrics into a tight 10 tracks.

R’n’B lothario sings the praises of monogamy on patchy fifth album.

Most of the record is--sonically-speaking, rather than in terms of quality--classic Ghostface, but only a couple of these familiar tracks match the standard set on previous records.