When it’s on form, Reasonable Woman is proof that Sia can still hit those high marks like she’s always been able to. The trouble is that there’s just not enough of those high points on this record.

Even when it doesn’t quite hit the mark, they still sound like no other band out there. They remain a curiously compelling act to listen to, who play by thier own rules – chaos remains their lifeblood, for good and for bad.

While there's no arguments with the quality of the craft on display, over the course of a 12 track album, you may find yourself nodding off sometimes. Yet there's still a warm glow to this album, and anyone who's missed the sound of Knopfler expertly working the fretboard, will find much to love on it.

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.

There’s nothing essentially wrong with Evolution, but it just sounds like it’s mostly been written on auto-pilot. It’s always nice to have a musician of Crow’s calibre still active, but Evolution feels more like an inessential addition to her canon, rather than the glorious comeback it was no doubt intended to be.

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 certainly a confident step-up from Garageband Superstar and if more of Hibberd’s musical personality is allowed to shine through next time around, she could produce an even better album.

It’s another long album – if there’s one conclusion to be drawn from this record, it’s that Justin Timberlake desperately needs an editor – but it’s a return to the slinky RnB pop that made his name. The problem is that there’s not much of the sparkle that was evident about 20 years ago.

Sadly, too much of the Easy Eighth Album sounds a bit hollow and empty, the sound of a band wanting to move on, but without the energy to properly capture the old glory days.

The main problem with Gallagher-Squire is that it all sounds a bit lazy and predictable. You get the impression that they know this too.

Tangk is sadly, and far too often, a rather boring album by a band who can and should be doing much better.

The only issue is that, over the course of a 45 minute album, Masics’ style can drag a bit. When his songs lose Barlow’s influence, they can tend to lose a bit of energy, and as What Do We Do Now reaches its conclusion, you may be a bit weary of mid-paced plodders like Old Friends and Hangin’ Out. They’re not bad songs as such, there’s just not too much to distinguish them as more than filler.

It’s a pleasing finish to a rather uneven collection. People often say that the first episode of a sit-com is disappointing, and you should skip to the second, which is exactly the approach we propose for this album.

It’s not a perfect album – you get the impression that Packs as a band are still figuring out their sound, and they’re at that stage where plenty of ideas are going to be thrown around.

Pink Friday 2 is very much a grab-bag of a record, its 32-minute version sounding no more coherent than the 70-minute version that was released on streaming. But if the best songs sustain her legacy, Nicki Minaj will most likely see it as mission accomplished.

Just as André 3000 isn’t as good at singing, acting or guitar playing as he is at rapping, he also isn’t as good at playing wind instruments, going some way to justify the disappointed reaction to this record’s announcement. That being said, the fun he’s having through experimentation is undoubtedly infectious, and at various points the musical ensemble create such an otherworldly vibe that one forgets the main artist is famous for something very different.

Rockstar is, at heart, a well meaning, fun spirited album. It just pushes the joke just too far. There’s still time for her to make a great rock record, but this isn’t it.

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.

Danse Macabre becomes a career retrospective of sorts, earning credit by not going down the obvious ‘best of’ route. However, to work it needs the different elements to complement each other, and on that score its success is extremely limited.

Too often on The Darker The Shadow The Brighter The Light you find yourself reaching for the earlier albums to listen to instead. While Skinner’s hardcore fans will be pleased to see him back, much of the time this feels a lot like The Streets on autopilot.

If not all of this debut lands too firmly at times, there’s still enough evidence on Sorry I’m Late that people will soon remember Mae Muller for more than that Eurovision disappointment.

As nice as it is (and this is a very tasteful album, seemingly tailor-made to be bought for Mothers Day), Angel Face doesn’t give us much idea of who Stephen Sanchez is, apart from a seemingly nice young man with an extraordinary voice.

Flying Wig is a record that it’s probably easier to appreciate than it is to completely fall for. While this probably isn’t a record for a newcomer to Devendra Banhart, long-term fans will appreciate the change in direction.

Occasionally, songs like Like A God and the fiery Double Dare do recall the band’s old magic, but those moments are few and far between.

As it is, Hozier’s third album is a album that is simply a bit too sprawling. It’s certainly great in parts, and that voice never fails to impress, but it becomes a bit too bloated to listen to in full over time.

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.

The final few tracks have an appealing sense of character to them, harnessing the potential of organic and programmed elements intertwining. The rest of Eyeroll is so abrasive that it’s hard to love, but fans of experimental electronica could certainly do worse than give it a listen.

All in all it’s a decidedly mixed bag, with producer Mark Ronson failing to make the experience even remotely coherent, though during this soundtrack’s highlights even the most committed Nolan fanboy might just get caught up in the hype.

It’s possibly an album that’s easier to admire than to enjoy, but you can’t fault his ambition.

It’s a heavy, lugubrious listen in places but is also the sound of an artist pursuing their art with integrity and investing themselves fully, showing that, while adversity can at times feel all encompassing, there are ways to overcome and find resolution.

While it’s sometimes a bit too unassuming for its own good, King Of A Land does well to remind the world of just what a legendary songwriter Yusuf/Cat Stevens is.

Anyone who wants a nostalgia rush back to the Commotions days may be disappointed with On Pain, but for everyone else this is an effective indication of an artist steadily on his own path, and doing very well out of it.

Although she’s not quite there just yet, with a more stringent editor, and a producer who could get the best out of her (Max Martin would seem a lip-smacking prospect), Maisie Peters is undoubtedly on her way to producing a truly great pop album.

It all stays just on the right side of self-indulgent, although like most albums consisting mainly of cover versions, there are peaks and troughs.

Broken By Desire To Be Heavenly Sent generally plays it safe, assuming the schtick that’s got Capaldi this far has more mileage in it, which gives the album a competent, workmanlike air.

An album which is both fascinating and hard to listen to at times. Gag Order may not go down as Kesha’s best album, but it’s certainly the album that she has to make at this present time.

The album, when taken as a whole, is simply too much. When taken as individual pieces, it works much better – and there’s simply no reason for it to be this long.

A signature sound is all well and good, but in the future the duo would benefit from indulging their inventive side more.

Although the songs on – never really rise above a mild trot, there’s still some musical variety.

Nathan Fake is technically skilled, and on tracks like Hawk his creative verve really shines, but some kinks could be ironed out on this rose-tinted trek.

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.

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.

This is an album full of club bangers – anyone who prefers the ballads like Love Me Like You Do and How Long Will I Love You may be disappointed. Fans of decent dance-pop anthems though will be more than satisfied.

Closing track Happy Now even dares to pick up the pace and is a reminder how good Uchis can sound when she mixes things up a bit. A few more moments like this to break the homogeneity of Uchis’ songs next time around would be most welcome.

She’s certainly an artist following her own vision: one which may sometimes grate, but is never less than intriguing.

There’s a truly startling album lurking somewhere within Moore, but she’ll need to start taking a few more risks for that to be unleashed.

Optical Delusion is messy, and it certainly doesn’t display the focus of the Hartnoll brothers’ career highlights, but you’re never more than five minutes away from a musically inspired moment.

When RAYE is self-consciously rebelling against the mainstream it results in some of My 21st Century Blues’ worst music, whereas on the best tracks we hear an artist who fully deserves this victory lap and more.

When it catches fire, as on Unholy, it sounds terrific but those moments are too few.

Mercy may have a few forgettable tracks, but an artist with John Cale’s long and varied history will always find a way to intrigue the listener.

If the album spent more time doing what it’s good at we would have a classic on the level that Stormzy seems to be aiming for.

It brings its fair share of frustration, but Christine And The Queens’ third record is undoubtedly interesting, a lateral progression if ever there was one.

The third instalment in his Actual Life series continues the concept of an artistic journal, but fails to convey the intended poignancy.

No half measures or quarters are given, and as a tribute to Pierre Henry it is a fitting piece of work indeed. Yet the lack of human feeling continues to be a problem, and the unremitting bleakness of Oxymore – though accurate for our age – makes it an album for admiration rather than love.

Coping Mechanism is full of feisty attitude, blaring guitars and rhythmically intense drumming, and sees Willow positioning herself as the edgier Olivia Rodrigo with mixed results.

Branch’s lyrical savvy and clear communication keep it well clear of the mundane, though you get the recurring impression that she is capable of taking a few more risks.

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.

Despite the classic approach of most of the songwriting here there’s no doubt that it’s a step up in quality for Nesbitt and the result is her most assured and confident collection of songs yet.

Aitch clearly approached this record wanting to prove his staying power, and while he delivers some quality verses (and roughly an EP worth of great music) the fog of compromise hangs that bit too heavily.

The sense of a missed opportunity lingers.

The album rallies later on, as I Love Your Girl and When The Party’s Over are impeccable tunes that more than deserve their place, but Mabel’s dedication to the pure pop that gave her big hits in 2019-20 is now threatening to leave her somewhat faceless.

No one really shakes things up. Still, there are numerous moments of real beauty here.

The main issue that dogs this album is weak composition – few of the ideas are outright bad, but they don’t earn their runtime.

As there is little deviation, you wonder if the band had control with the various producers largely going along with what the band wanted rather than trying to exert their own influences over the record. Whilst it does work at times, Life Is Yours will probably find itself confined to the list of also-ran albums of 2022 as a whole.

This album’s half-in-half-out approach is unsatisfying.

The only problem with Inside Problems is that it’s possibly too arch and mannered to appeal much beyond those familiar with Bird-lore.

A perfectly paced album, but despite the elegant sequencing, there are definitely tracks you’ll come back to far more than others.

C’mon You Know’s problem is that, after the initial bluster of his two preceding albums, it just sounds distinctly pedestrian, complacent and reflective. The addition of wisps of trippy phasing, looped drums and a diversion into dub (eek!) all add up to songs that seem just a bit too contrived and calculated to really feel like he ‘means it man’.

Flume is stuck between innovation and the urge to party like it’s 2014, and though Palaces has real highlights, it is weakened by this indecision.

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.

The music is uniformly simple but beautifully effective. It sounds like what it is, one man telling you stories and weaving beguiling tales of distinct and not too distant lands through a carefully intricate and delicate soft rock tapestry.

Invisible Forces is a deliberately minimal affair, as even formal notation is eschewed in favour of an intuitive musical journey, and if this makes the album repetitive it will surely still be put on repeat by fans of this sort of thing.

This album at its best can be genuinely explosive – see Holding Back with its booming trap beats and chipmunk-soul hook – but Banks’ central problem on Serpentina is how to channel emotion without straying into musical indulgence, and how to evoke situations without wallowing in them.

To produce songs that listeners want to stick on over and over again is the holy grail, of course, and although the whole album doesn’t manage to maintain this level, the highlights could stay with you for a considerable time.

It features roughly one good tune to every two mediocre ones.

The idea that synthetic beats only serve to sterilise is ridiculous and passé – but while they show potential for something really interesting here, they do have the effect of cooling and sterilising an otherwise warm and welcoming record.

Heterosexuality is in many ways bold, both stylistically and in terms of message, but what goes missing in its weaker moments is akin to the ghost in the machine: that compositional spark which would elevate the record beyond the sum of its parts.

As a study of a man starting to slowly regain his feet after a major relationship break-up during a pandemic, Extreme Witchcraft has plenty to say. As a collection of Eels songs though, it unfortunately falls some way short of the band’s best work.

The music is fun and easygoing, whether it’s the title track’s blissful 80s-style chords, or Make It Out Alive’s sparkling synth line, or the dizzying strings of Sweet Talker (a far better Galantis collaboration than Heartbreak Anthem with Little Mix). When the pace drops the results become more mixed, as Intimacy sports a clumsy riff under melodies that don’t gel while 20 Minutes is nice but forgettable.

As ever with Marshall’s covers project, it’s a mixed bag, but there’s more than enough here to keep Cat Power fans satisfied until her next album of original material comes along.

Fragments does not outstay its welcome, but only because it isn’t distinctive enough to be consciously welcomed in the first place. Recommended for owners of trendy cafes and companies in need of hold music.

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

If you’re a fan, you’ll still be a fan and if you’re not, you still won’t be.

MONSTA X, formed through a reality TV programme, display versatility, emotion and style on their second English-language album. If their third is a tad more ambitious they’ll really be onto a winner.

Aside from several unwanted bumps in the road that fail to impress at all, he has at least managed to produce something that resembles an echo of past glories in a few places.

These are earthy songs to be played on the road, to be enjoyed around a roaring fire. These are new songs that sound well-worn and well-loved – much like Crazy Horse themselves. If not that surprising a listen, it’s nearly always an enjoyable one.

Despite her albums being snapshots, sometimes a little more diversity in subject matter would be a good thing. Ultimately, while some intriguing risks have been taken, 30 is probably the weakest, as well as conversely the most intimate and in many ways bravest, Adele album to date.

Actually You Can probably isn’t the best album to introduce the uninitiated to the delights of Deerhoof. By now, you very much know what you’re getting with them, and Actually You Can is another example of why they have such a strong cult following.

As it stands Water is a transition record, signalling a direction of travel but inconsistent and frustrating.

It’s different and at times more uplifting than most Parquet Courts albums, but it’s an album for the band, not for the fans.

Certainly there are some interesting moments on Music From The Spheres. But overall it’s the sound of Coldplay treading water. More alarmingly, it begins to sound like they’re trying not to drown.

Too many of the songs fail to deliver the mind blowing moments that the band have been capable of in the past.

If a devil-may-care attitude is the album’s strength, it also can be a weakness. Songs hit or miss by chance, the product of unmoderated experimentation which can so easily become indulgence.

While he’s sounding as bold and varied as ever, White’s songwriting feels a little less focused, with tracks like the seven minute opener and single Genuine Hesitation and Take Your Time (And That Orange To Squeeze) tipping over into self-indulgent dirges.

He’s going for a darker sound, one which explores different themes than he is used to, but some of the resonance is negated by a reliance on grandiosity. Some judicious editing and pruning might have been preferable.

Yet another unimpressive, tedious release.

Despite its occasional uplifting moments, the overall feeling you get from Ultra Vivid Lament is indeed a lament for something better, something briefly promised by Resistance Is Futile despite its title sounding more Borg-like than Star Trek character Seven Of Nine.

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