The Killers album is, whisper it, pretty good in places.

A lap or two behind many of the albums it seemingly aspires to be (Cat Power, Radiohead, Fiona Apple and Elliott Smith comparisons have been made before and seem almost invited) 'Knives...' still has enough personality and original thought to shield it from accusations of simple derivation.

Experimental it ain't, but this summer in a shiny flat box it is.

'Crazy Itch Radio' bumbles along with mid-paced beats and, it seems, too many disparate influences to really hold together.

The sonic palette here is just so relentlessly perfect that, for me, it becomes constricting and cloying.

And so it goes on sonic cliche after awful lyrics after terrible synth settings after lazy drum beats after... well, you get the picture.

The 'Idlewild' experience is mostly regrettable and one that will leave you feeling cheated.

Whereas previously his songs felt carefully and beautifully crafted, here he seems content to merely plunder a whole host of archaic musical styles and immerse himself in self-congratulatory jams, and a result you end up with a less than satisfying hotchpotch of songs.

MSTRKRFT have essentially made an album of great productions and remixes and then forgotten to invite any artists or records along to help them out.

Nearly every line contains a shock, a sharp intake of breath. To say this album is worth more as a social document than a musical one is no insult.

While there are some moments of greatness (the menacing, psychedelic 'Dog Sleep', the mournful, pretty 'Don't Cry That Way'), the majority of this double album is dull, turgid and instantly forgettable.

Former admirers, be warned that 'Without Feathers' will send you into a headless, flailing flap; while any newcomers to The Stills will be left with a plump, bald turkey on their hands.

Too much is sodden with his overbearing ego.

'Kratitude' is a far from flawless record and can be a little too hip for its own good.

Almost everything about 'Kicking The National Habit' is righteously unfashionable.

Musically there's nothing on 'Stars of CCTV' that stands out as particularly innovative or imaginative[;] it's above average modern indie fare made with gusto by people who want to make records that sound like the records they like: The Clash, The Specials, The Verve and a bunch of other bygone Britpoppers.

Even on repeated listens, the search for the showy dazzle of The Killers, the lyrical tomfoolery of the Kaiser Chiefs or the sheer stadium smartness of Franz Ferdinand proves fruitless, and it becomes apparent that, in an age where indie's proving to be the stronghold of overachievers, 'Cuts Across The Land' may have missed its moment.

The lack of a linear structure results in the individual songs banging against each other logjam-style, with the unfortunate effect that 'Fab Four Suture' begins to grate.

The trouble is, the much-lauded braggadocio of 'Whatever People Say I Am, That's What I'm Not' is hollow.

With the ability of the participants, surely there could have been more interesting material to explore, and sadly 'The Brave And The Bold' ends up being anything but.

'For Screening Purposes Only' reeks with the all-pervading whiff of vapid irony.

So as sturdy and rocking as 'The Indian Tower' is, it never quite lets you into its world, though if you manage to break on through they're likely to bore you to death by reading Guitarist Monthly aloud and swapping Gary Moore tablature like Pokemon cards.

While a few get close, not one remix here stands up to the original on 'Guero'.

A joyously audacious opening salvo.

Lyrically the record is less cringe inducing than 'Escapology' but Robbie has been let off the leash for a while in this respect, and while sometimes he can be funny, he needs people to tell him when he's being trite and just downright embarrassing.

Despite its many wondrous moments, 'Feels' is not a record for everyone.

There's no let up in Kuperus' constant yelps around the difficult end of her vocal range, and it's this that, ultimately, lets 'Gimmie Trouble' down and disappointingly makes this otherwise excellent Adult. album feel rather indulgent and immature.

The whole experience becomes rather draining after a few listens.