Despite only clocking in at 42 minutes it feels like it drags on for ages. And the copious use of samples to remind you it’s an industrial record gets tiring.

EndEx doesn’t win many points for going where no band has gone before. The album, and its creators, do deserve credit for continuing the Fear Factory tradition, as an industrial metal band preoccupied with questions of how technological advancements adversely affect our lives. If you fear the future, this is the soundtrack for you.

Very occasionally, such as during the first half of the otherwise excellent Crashed Out Wasted, that compulsion to pour honey in our ears can lead to a little too much saccharine. But on the whole, Race The Night is a journey worth taking, deftly hitting all of the touchpoints that make Ash such a special band.

True, not all these 10 songs are gonna be fan-favourites, but this return at least partly captures the sense of catharsis brought so brilliantly to that stage in South Wales.

Alas, as with other City and Colour albums, this one suffers from moments of terminal blandness.

Dying Of Everything does not match or beat its predecessor, but that is not to say that it is lacking in any department, for it is a crushing slab of the dark’n’hard stuff executed with merciless precision and delivered with a killer mix.

The bad news for Disturbed fans, and unsurprising news for their detractors, is that Divisive is an average record. Hearing the first three tracks – opening single Hey You, the leaden Bad Man, and the forgettable title-track – one hopes they’re mere aberrations and that the quality high-octane arena fodder will arrive imminently. Alas, it never does.

It’s very pleasantly chill, but after a while it does start to get a touch samey. Still, for those looking for something with vibe firmly in place, as ever, Turnover deliver exactly what you’re looking for here.

As a big, glossy rock record that finds Bush aging both gracefully and garishly, The Art Of Survival is a success, even if it’s unlikely to win over any those who’ve remained immune to the band’s charms so far, and isn’t innovative enough to ensnare new listeners.

Opener The Funeral presents a far less cartoonish performer than he was on 2020's overly-cute second album Weird!. This alone makes the whole thing magnitudes more enjoyable. The energised electro-pop of Memories (a duet with WILLOW) and the brooding Sex Not Violence continue on a similar tack, showing a width of creative goalpost while actually keeping things together.

There are still elements of The Fall in the taut rhythms and the brief but potent guitar flashes are occasionally reminiscent of Jon Spencer or J. Mascis. As a whole piece, though, My Other People sees TV Priest continue to map out their own increasingly intriguing identity.

In truth not every track on BLEED HERE NOW quite justifies its inclusion. A trimmed down version would have been the best …Trail Of Dead album in 20 years, but this sprawling incarnation remains a comforting reminder of the warmth and weirdness of these perennial outsiders.

Not all of World Below lives up to this early promise. You can find songs like Poor Old Me – wonky guitar, jaded sarcasm – filling out landfill indie releases from the ’00s. However, late highlight Midnight twists heads with grinding industrial rhythms.

While DISCO4:: PART II isn't perfect, it's definitely worth your time.

John Frusciante’s performance is effective and restrained, and drummer Chad Smith shines when he’s let loose, notably on These Are The Ways. There are, however, way too many tracks that miss their marks, trying to supplant the old energy with wisdom; the magik with maturity.

The one thing holding Diaspora Problems back, save for its disappointing lack of hooks, is that it doesn’t exploit its strengths as fully as it might.

Machine Gun Kelly’s detractors will likely have you believe Mainstream Sellout is terrible. It isn’t, but nor is the fire burning as bright as it once was. There’s some fun to be had here, but ultimately, this is the weakest record of MGK’s rock era so far.

There are no crashing power chords, OTT theatrics or questionable haircuts to worry about on All The Truth That I Can Tell. Just an open-hearted, increasingly middle-aged man, his acoustic guitar, and the same brand of chest-swelling songwriting many of us have known since we were young.

Blood Incantation have definitely achieved what they set out to accomplish and it’s by no means executed poorly, it’s just lacking the instantaneous spark that their previous two releases encompassed.

Ultimately, there are enough ideas on display here to just about see Twin Atlantic right. While it may not be a clear-cut success, Transparency does prove once again that its creators have it in them to be bloody great.

On Motorheart The Darkness’s timekeeping is impeccable and with songs about shagging droids their virility proven beyond doubt. As for staying on the right side of that fine line, give the boys credit; two outta three ain’t bad.

Bottom-heavy power dynamic shines on tracks like Dark Horse, a parade of colossal bass drums and Demi’s pseudo-organ effects wizardry, which then reveals its true colours with a flourish of doomy, speaker-blowing riffs.

Despite Tom’s superlative guitar playing tying it all together, the way it switches genres and atmosphere so chaotically ultimately makes it too uneven to really work as an album. Still, there are plenty of gems here, and – given how disparate it all is – probably something for everyone, no matter where your musical tastes lie.

In general this is a more reflective, far darker album than we’re used to from the former god of partying.

At no point is it bad, and sometimes it’s rather good, but nothing here is particularly essential.

Hideaway could perhaps have done with a few more leftfield moments, then, because while it’s breezy and over before you know it, that’s largely because the majority of it is in one sedate speed setting.

On the whole, they should definitely be commended for their ambition in mixing things up at this stage of the game, the result making for a compelling, quite fascinating collection.

Atreyu’s act of streamlining has sanded many of their edges clean off, leading to moments that sound like they’ve been made by anyone but the actual authors.