Those who are justifiably fond of Tigerlily will find much to enjoy here. But it’s a shame Merchant didn’t take the opportunity to shake up the original album a bit more.

It may not have the instant listenability of We Were Here, and there are parts where it gets slightly bogged down but, in the end, it is another worthy addition to their catalogue.

All this amounts to, in the nicest possible way, is an album that sounds sleek, professional and (say it quietly) a little safe.

Their fluctuating randomness trails away from scattered innovation and colourful variances in pitch and tone to become interchangeable noise. Without sufficiently varying their distinctive sound, they still serve a herbal tonic for the senses, even if there’s a decidedly bland aftertaste this time. Still, at least there are some nice vinyl options to put away on the shelf.

This album works best at moments like this, sweet and soothing – not exactly ambient, but soft and comforting like a nest of scatter cushions.

The sheer brevity of the record means that it doesn’t really feel like a ‘proper’ record as such, but it’s still a lovely listen.

There are a couple of tracks that veer towards the forgettable, and the overall downbeat tempo of the album as a whole may test the patience of some listeners. ... Yet even on the less memorable songs, Merchant never sounds anything less than completely captivating.

Big Anonymous is a deliberately paced album that some may find a bit too bleak to visit often. It’s beautifully crafted, as you’d expect from Sarah Assbring, but at times that darkness can become a bit all-consuming. If you’re in the right frame of mind though, El Perro Del Mar’s world is one that’s well worth stepping into.

It's good to see this album released, but whether the meeting between Costello and Toussaint has produced anything of greater note that their individual achievements, I'm not convinced.

For the main part, The Life Of The World To Come is so familiar as The Mountain Goats that it seems rather lazy.

This is at once an enjoyable effort and an opportunity missed.

If there were any criticism to be leveled at this album, it's that it is a little bland around the edges.

They’ve had their day doing one thing, they now need to do another, and while further albums are even less likely than this one, Happiness Not Included feels like something of a missed opportunity.

Basically, this is the sound of a band happy to be coasting, which can be a chore to listen to.

It may be enigmatic, uneven and flawed in places but at the same time it proves that he is still a single-minded sonic adventurer worth persevering with.

Love + War is solid rather than spectacular, but contains enough promising signs to suggest his next album could be something special.

It's hard to deny the fresh, eclectic sounds of Walls or the sheer beauty in the closing sounds of Volcano, but overall, if this is any indication, Danger Mouse's productions are losing their novelty, and Beck remains at an uneven point in his career.

When so many performers are trying to push the boundaries, sometimes it's nice to have something so plain and straightforward.

Overall the lingering feeling is that I Don’t Run is a pleasant enough listen, and one that would happily soundtrack many a summer barbecue, but it falls short of the promise of their debut.

Concise and defined, the 10 tracks here distill Marina’s thoughts on modern day society and all its horrors into a short, sharp shock. ... If there’s anything the album lacks though it’s some of the knowing playfulness of her previous work.

Casual and smartly-attired passers-by alike may find little to separate this excursion into meta-pop from the last.

There are certainly things to enjoy here, but too often Steeple is searching for its soul. It's a soul that will probably forever be caught in a bygone time.

This was undoubtably an excellent night out if you were lucky enough to be in the audience, but as an album it’s a mild diversion at best, which will probably end up directing you back to the Dylan original.

The Voyager is less of an addition to her back catalogue than a summary of her work to date, dipping into different eras of Lewis, and not settling on any.

Those who choose to embrace and eulogise anything the great man releases will no doubt laud Fallen Angels as another triumph, but the harsh reality is this is Bob on auto-pilot.

The DJing skills are still there and the grooves hold together throughout, though there is rarely much of interest on top of them. ... There are also precisely eight bars in The Cards’ mid-section where the drums hit just right, before they’re replaced with yet more poorly-mixed elements. These moments are so few and far between, however, that it’s hard to justify the album’s raison d’être.

While The Golden Record is far from perfect, and occasionally falters and fails to make the impression it should, there is much to recommend here.

There’s nothing on Alone that could stand shoulder by shoulder to the band’s genuine classics, but perhaps there doesn’t need to be. At 65, Hynde has proved all she has to, and at this stage, it’s enough to hear that marvellous voice sneering its way through some new songs.