It's frequently ridiculous and makes you a bit embarrassed for the folly and bravado of youth, but the guy has an uncanny knack for that perfectly evocative couplet and addictive hook, which is why his supporters are so vocal.

Aussie collective Architecture in Helsinki return with an awkward mess of shrieking faux island riddims and embarrassing rump-shaking elasto-funk.

What's immediately striking about Challengers is the unabashed mellowness of it all.

What makes Under The Blacklight a true disappointment is the shoddy songcraft.

Andorra feels downhearted, often recalling Elliott Smith; even on 'She's The One,' a collabo with Junior Boys's Jeremy Greenspan, it sounds like she's a real drag.

Kweli's curse- 'n' cliché-free rhyme-ripping proves he needs no help on the microphone. He outshines his celebrated guests, including labelmate Grae, KRS-One, Norah Jones (!), Sonia Sanchez, UGK's Pimp C and Bun B, Musiq Soulchild and Raheem DeVaughn.

You'll find great boy-girl vocals, muted guitars and quiet but hooky pop.

There are a few hot instrumental numbers, but most of this is your favourite undergrounders (add Ladybug Mecca and Z-Trip to the list above) doing their thing over bangin' live funk beats with ace production.

Some songs lack raw emotion but have sombre vocal melodies and engaging lyrics.

Tim McGraw's country-radio-friendly production weighs down the disc.... McKenna sounds best stripped down and rough around the edges. Both her voice and writing deserve more modest frames.

The Stage Names is much more of a balls-out rock album than most of Okkervil River's oeuvre, and also more orchestral and layered, with arrangements that include everything from non-sissy glockenspiel to metronome percussion. The complexity is the perfect counterpart to Sheff's dense writing.

If you can stomach the contrived slow jams and the sensitive soul-baring, there are a couple of decent joints produced by West.

Most bizarre are the contributions of studio drummer Terry Bozzio, known for his work with Frank Zappa, who, despite his reputation as one of rock's most talented stick men, fails to sound heavy, menacing or even relatively interesting.

Sadly, this landfill isn't biodegradable.

How poignantly they express their inarticulate messages through Blink-182 rip-offs and recycled versions of their own material.

Better than anything they've done to date.

Crammed with 18 efficient minutes of material generated in the liminal period after 03's "Fever To Tell," Is Is comes closer to the lusty nails-scratching-down-a-lover's back energy of 'Date With The Night' or early Yeah Yeah Yeahs tracks like 'Art Star' than anything on 06's "Show Your Bones. "

Redundant, needlessly long, Those The Brokes rarely matches the 60s California-dreamin' good-vibes pop of its successful self-titled predecessor.

It's quickly evident on We Are The Night that the Chemical Brothers are making a serious go at being contemporary.... They pull it off relatively well for the most part.

This is no-frills rawk that's been dumbed down for mass consumption.

In terms of writing and production, this may be Interpol at their best.

It's not the best album of Spoon's career, but it's far from a misstep.

The whole album is solid, save for Uffie's questionable club princess rap, and even that sounds better with repeated listens.

It's actually startlingly dark, and understandably so – drummer Paul Hester took his own life only two years ago, and the tragedy definitely shades Neil Finn's songwriting on Time.

While this album might not be their most mind-bending, its hooks and idiosyncrasies prove that after more than two decades, TMBG still know how to have fun.

Goodbye's overall prettiness is both its weakness and its strength; the album is pleasant but blends into the background a bit too easily.

If the Replacements were to release an album stuffed with vital performances of stylishly crafted roots rock like those on Three Easy Pieces, it would be hailed as the comeback of the century.

Isbell shows us his sensitive side in a collection of lightly strummed breakup ballads and weepy slow-dancers you'd expect to get from Ryan Adams. That's not an endorsement.