Bella is a decent album, but one that is more likely to attract appreciative nods than the slap-me-on-the-patio lust that Thompson needs to raise his career to the next level.

It’s not perfect, but it does point towards promising a future.

The commitment to developing their sound into urgent and strident rock is commendable yet the execution leaves you cold at times.

Sub Verses may be genre hopping, but it’s not a particularly challenging listen as compared to its predecessors, albums that were both challenging and fun.

In succeeding for much of Human, Brandy makes a committed and surprisingly emotive return.

Violet Cries isn't an easy album to get into, and it may well prove too impenetrable for the casual listener. They may not signal a Goth revival, but there's enough promise here to justify keeping an eye on this Brighton trio.

Overall, No Romeo does a good job of laying down some promising foundations and confirming what Solo Dancing had already suggested--that Indiana is far more interesting than most of the uninspiring pop artists dominating the charts at the moment. Where the album suffers is in its baggy running time and lack of standout tracks to match her most recent singles.

So while Cuomo might be frustratingly stuck in himself, Everything Will Be Alright In The End shows that he’s taking the first trepidatious steps into an earnest reflection on what it’s taken to be the man he’s become.

Whilst they are mostly good cuts, the vocal tracks are disappointing in comparison (with the exception of Beneath The Black Sea); ultimately, there’s likely to be a few yawns and subsequent yearning for a new album by The National instead.

The tracks don’t excite particularly: it’s all rather pedestrian, with the album occasionally struggling to hold attention. This is a shame, because the album’s closer and standout track, The Stars, shows they can manage it.

Lengthier drawn out psych-jams similar to TOY could be one direction that would be an improvement, as would the addition of a guitar maestro, but without a special ingredient you can’t help but feel The Proper Ornaments will sadly find themselves consigned to granny’s shelf too soon, a fact you desperately don’t want to see happen, such is the potential hinted at throughout.

the samples-led, organic electronica here may produce intriguing textures--and Phillips' background as a soundtrack composer is never in doubt--but it is hard work to find anything approaching coherence here.

For new fans, this is a pretty good introduction. For fans who already own all his previous work, it's more of the same, but so well-crafted that they probably won't mind.

This feels like something that Harcourt did for his own satisfaction, and as a little treat for his fans. There’s nothing wrong with that, it doesn’t leave a lot for the rest of us to dig into.

Obviously all is still not perfect in Britney's world, but Circus still does more than enough to remind us of why she's one of the world's most iconic pop stars.

It’s a shame that this is an album slightly prone to dwelling on its ambience. Still, this is a promising collaboration which Denison, Hacke and Kotue will hopefully choose to reprise and develop.

While the album does lose some of its focus and direction towards the end, Dear Miss Lonelyhearts is undoubtedly a much better album than Mine Is Yours.

Jekyll Island is probably not going to be their breakthrough album to a wider public, but their forthcoming debut European tour is bound to bring them some new fans.

Musically, I’m Not Bossy is pure pop with a wonderful glam mindset, but there was certainly more lyrical attention needed for it to succeed its intended purpose.

The Hangman Tree is certainly a decent sapling with plenty to like, but the love or loathe vocals mingle with the predominantly wonky atmosphere to prevent this from being a mighty oak.

six songs may only run to seventeen minutes, but for the devoted it will be a case of quality overriding quantity.

My Sad Captains do have an unfortunate tendency of allowing their subtle, crafted melodies to occasionally lose focus and meander.

Though this isn’t a complete comeback, frustrated Kanye fans certainly have more grounds for optimism after this record than they did before it.

It feels like a work in progress, skeletally over-precise and over-long.

Music To Be Murdered By succumbs to temptation a few times, with a pop concession here and a lacklustre verse there, but it’s the clearest sign yet that there’s a future for Eminem as well as a legacy.

There’s material on this album that’s fun, from the bouncy Blondie backing vocals on Pretty Awful, to the yob jazz of Dirty Mucky Delight, but it’s hard to make a case for most of it being essential listening.

When it hits the spot, Moby’s writing is still subtly powerful, but when it doesn’t a curious and lasting emptiness remains. This may accurately reflect the imbalances of the world, but as a musical work it ultimately feels off-kilter.

There are still a few forgettable plodders on All Quiet – the likes of Baron’s Claw and Be Young seem to be a bit phoned in. Yet while the fire of 20 years ago is inevitably never going to be reignited, this new version of The Libertines seems to be settling quite nicely into a once unimaginable middle age.