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

A definite sense of fun permeates Conor Oberst, with the singer allowing himself to indulge a few whimsical idea's.

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

Sounding, for the most part, like a Stars In Their Eyes version of Cat Stevens, the album lacks variety, imagination and charisma.

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?

The second in command of the good ship Broken Social Scene, for quite some time he’s been in the shadows of the band’s co-founder Kevin Drew.

The fact that Hammond can’t actually sing that well is rendered practically obsolete on this album; his hazy drawl may not be the strongest in the world, but it suits these songs just fine.

Perennial underachievers once again fall short of the mark.

Katy Perry's second album offers minimal creativity or originality, but there are several likeable tracks--despite their turgid, juvenile and bordering-on-offensive lyrical content.

You get the feeling that, in the long run, Diamond Hoo Ha is destined to be remembered as one of the lesser works in their canon.

Canadian firebrand loses her spark.

Gifted MC loses the run of himself without Mannie Fresh.

Not much has changed in the futureheads world as, post their major-label career, they bounce-back with independently released third album.

Sleek but insubstantial fourth outing from R&B songstress.

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

Inoffensively bland offering from US indie pop outfit.

Would be blockbuster from the Jack Johnson it’s really not okay to like.

Couples is by no means a terrible record, I just preferred The Long Blondes when they were young, free and single.

Craig David's back, and in fairness, he makes a decent fist of it. However, David is hamstrung by trying to please both critic and fan.

Certain artists are blessed with the ability to say something poignant and meaningful with their music. On the evidence of this eopnymous record, Gavin DeGraw is not one of them.

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.

Shine remains a terribly average r'n'b album that occasionally flickers with possibility, but never burns brightly enough to matter.

Overwrought second album from Glaswegian indie quartet.

Hard Candy sounds bloody expensive, but has precious little to declare except an infatuation with its own reflection in a nightclub mirror.

Ultimately, this is less a fully-formed debut than the tentative first few steps of a promising artist still finding her way.

Hook-laden agitprop combines with slinky beats on outing number ten from The Roots.

Bragg is taking stock. He’s now doing it for himself, at his own pace. Those in search of revelation from an old punk with a new perspective will be left hanging

Tokyo Police Club indubitably share similarities with their more commercially successful UK counterparts, Bloc Party.