‘I’m Doing It Again Baby!’ is a fine album; it’s fun and sweet, if a little bland. It’s a pristine pop record that takes few risks and leaves little room for error – though it might be more interesting if it did.

Gray’s newfound penchant for ’80s pop doesn’t come with a notion of irony – he’s fully embracing even the era’s most ostentatious elements. But despite his own sincerity, there are moments that drift closer towards a caricature of the era than a true homage to the decade’s most innovative pop.

This is a pretty good Black Keys record that chiefly serves to underline how wedded they are to the fundamentals of their own process.

Viewed in isolation, ‘Heaven’ is a pretty sublime pop-punk record. Its little brother, ‘Hell’, yields more mixed results, continuing the metal-infused sound Sum 41 have veered towards in recent years.

Musgraves’ assertiveness feels like a real glimmer of light amid the sparse compositions that run through this thoughtful, imperfect, down-to-earth record.

Clocking in at a slither under 77 minutes, ‘Everything I Thought It Was’ is a slog enlivened by some surprising moments.

‘Vultures 1’ might not be the total dud that could put Kanye’s career six feet under, but it is far from one of his best efforts either. It’s more cohesive than ‘Donda’ – although that’s not hard, given it’s about half its length – and includes some well-curated guest spots from Travis Scott, Playboi Carti and India Love.

Some other stylistic choices prevent ‘New Last Name’ from being the disruptive moment it clearly wants to be – ‘Flex’ and its nod to ‘Mr Brightside’ (“now she’s calling a cab”), doesn’t quite land – but the album’s overall vibrancy doesn’t dim on repeated listens.

There’s no question that Herring still writes songs capable of evoking strong emotions, but this time around they can occasionally feel too twinkly and repetitive. What’s missing is some risk-taking; unpredictable production flourishes that could better reflect the overall mood of the album and all the ambiguities that accompany a major life change.

Though the romantic elements of ‘Discount De Kooning (Last Man Standing)’ are nice enough, it fails to penetrate in any meaningful way. As the record meanders on, tracks such as ‘The Dreamer’ and ‘Anonymous In Los Feliz’ fail to leave a lasting impression. That’s not to say it doesn’t work. It might not offer anything new, but it doesn’t necessarily need to.

It’s not until ‘Kids Are Growing Up’ the album’s 20th and final track, that Howard attempts to reflect on anything but heartbreak and fame. .... It feels like an emotional breakthrough for Howard, but it comes just a little too late.

The collection is more of a mood piece than of noticeable, memorable songs.

‘Quarter Life Crisis’ moves between moods that translate to bright, Day Glo colours (‘Kid Genius’) or dark goth accents (‘Die Alone’). But the former can often turn grating.

The issue is, however, that it’s perhaps lacking in variety. Although the rocket-fueled, lightning-paced ‘More Than You Know’ and the gently atmospheric closer ‘Childhood’ do offer changes in pace, there’s only really subtle things differentiating many of these songs from each other. Sometimes, the hooks aren’t as strong as they could be.

While ‘The Darker The Shadow’ is ambitious, packed with witty, insightful commentary on the human experience, its conceptual focus allowing plenty of scope for creative flourishes, it ultimately lacks the incisive punch of his earlier songwriting.

The club bangers lack the oomph of his past singles and the lead-out tracks, ‘Fan’ and ‘Worth It’ are criminally limp. .... Eventually, the vulnerability shines through.

For All The Dogs- his third solo LP in as many years – not only feels tiring, but sounds tired too.

The album, frustratingly, proceeds on a perplexingly flat note. Clocking in at 14 songs, one wonders if the ferocity of ‘Grooming My Replacement’ could have completed a memorable ten-track collection, with the final few tracks lacking that consistent cutting edge.

The nuance and specificity of his last album’s songwriting is largely absent; instead ‘Autumn Variations’ is akin to aimlessly swiping through Instagram, blurry snaps of followers’ leafy happenings whizzing past in a distracted daze.

‘Sorry I’m Late’ is a lot more fun when it stops trying so hard to prove itself.

Sanchez’s gorgeous vocal is what truly stands out.

It all adds up to an overlong, slightly repetitive but ultimately compelling album of two halves.

There’s one too many generic, string-laden ballads, and a stop-start feel to the record, a frustration given how enlivening its highs are. But if anything, it feels like a record Beer has been desperate to make since the very beginning: she’s come a long way in her time in the spotlight, but now we’re finally getting to know her true sound.

‘Volcano’ certainly isn’t overstuffed with ideas. Often, the uniformity in this approach – muddy vocal line that could be a chopped-up classic, and a minimal but effective bassline – mean that several of the songs meld together, struggling to stand out. .... But when they get it right, it’s hard to deny how hard it hits.

Where he’s inventive and precise in directing his energy, he’s able to make real uplifting and imaginative indie bops. It’s a shame this album’s not full of them. The potential is there, but he’s not quite hit it.

By going back to the sound of his early work, Scott steps back into the gargantuan shadow of his mentor. Kanye West – particularly the mechanical abrasiveness and fragmented textures of 2014’s ‘Yeezus’ – is not just an inspiration but an apparition that looms over Scott’s identity on this album.

There’s a certain power to ‘Euphoric’, but it certainly could have been a much more potent album. It’s a shame, and a missed opportunity: we don’t learn much about Georgia’s new worldview on a record that is, supposedly, dedicated to moving on from the past.

‘Sunburn’ still acts as a love letter to the place he was raised in, however, allowing Fike to return home not only to the relentless humid state but to himself.