In nearly every way, it is downright unremarkable. The Toronto superstar has once again delivered a tiresome and inflated LP composed of 23 tracks, the bulk of which are only successful thanks to the guest features that aid them.

His album is incredibly well polished, but the gleam of his ice is an illusion, as these diamonds are nothing more than cubic zirconias.

I can listen to “Mansion Musik” for 76 minutes and it’s fine as background music, but if I start paying attention to tracks like “WITCHCRAFT” the bars are so relentlessly negative it accidentally becomes a turnoff.

There’s so much that could be done with a Northern UK emcee to celebrate a part of England that has numerous industrial cities with interesting stories, but Aitch’s message doesn’t register as well as it should thanks to production akin to a box-ticking exercise.

This two-hour epic may not be his best work, but it’s his most Game album yet.

Jack Harlow’s attempts at grandiose appeal ultimately fall short on “Come Home The Kids Miss You”. The young rapper fails to inspire or interest and his attempts at grand standing charm are without merit.

Drake breaks no new ground here, and retreads the same tales of love and regret so many times that the songs bleed together. If you just want background music for making love, this is your album. If you want to have your imagination captured by fantastic tales or be taken on an emotional roller coaster, don’t bother. There are no highs or lows here. We’re on medium the whole time.

The hard truth is that “Dope Don’t Sell Itself” takes a tumble down into the same hole of forgettable 2 Chainz albums that has become home to the likes of “Trapavelli Tre’”, “Pretty Girls Like Trap Music”, “Collegrove” and the like. 2 Chainz seems burnt out.

Sullivan herself is certainly an artist that doesn’t follow the rules, which is why it’s mildly disappointing to hear her sound like Post Malone or Juice WRLD on tracks. For a woman with as much power and agency as she clearly has, she let too much of this release be shaped by what other people sound like in terms of the production of her vocals and her instrumentals.

Overall, aside from some promising lines and one, maybe two standout tracks, “Richer Than I Ever Been” is an album that predictably falls short. It simply features too many weak beats backing up bars that often do more to bore than they do to convey a sense of skill or originality.

It’s beige, hollow music and that’s what ultimately frustrates your dedicated rap listener because it doesn’t make sense why it’s so damn popular. When you throw the poor writing on top of this, and some real hit-and-miss production into the mix, “Certified Lover Boy” may well be Drake’s worst album.

In the end though it’s all just a little too polished, like a hip hop manicure after a rap spa day, one that leaves everything radiant and glossy but says nothing about what’s underneath.

It feels like the audio version of Madonna releasing a coffee table art book of her sexual exploits, and I’m not in any way judging you if you get off on that, but it’s just not my thing.

He’s a fine producer, a middling singer, and a very forgettable lyricist. The album’s title banks on his name being the sole draw, but if it has been titled “Featuring Kanye West, Quavo, Kid Cudi, Young Thug, Big Sean and Future” it would be a whole lot more accurate.

Relentlessly preachy music can be just as obnoxious as the relentlessly vapid, but even pop music can offer more substance than this. If this album was a soda, it would be light and bubbly, yet its sugar free nature would make you crave a Mexican soda in a glass bottle instead.

He clearly cares about his output, but “Music To Be Murdered By” is, unfortunately, another mixed bag of tricks, propped up by lyrical acrobatics and underwhelming production.

Very little is going on lyrically above but Smoke’s energy is priceless. That same energy is only marginally filtered through these swift-moving tracks. The entire album is more of an elongated intro to the Cactus Jack brand.

slowthai gained notoriety for being unvarnished in his lyrics over his country’s politics, but that isn’t shown much on the album except for its title. He says there’s “Nothing Great About Britain“, but the same can be said about his debut album, even with the bright spots.

“Hot Pink” doesn’t show an evolution of Doja Cat artistically or musically. The production from the likes of Tyson Trax, Yeti Beats and even the famed Saleem Remi is as slick as her debut, but also just as saccharine as her debut.

As with every Kanye album, there’s some magnificent production on a majority of “Jesus Is King” courtesy of Pi’erre Bourne, Timbaland and Boogz, among others. ... Kanye just seems like he’s in his own world; disregarding what’s going on around him. Other times, Ye’s writing delves into eyerolling contradictions and ego-driven intentions.

03 Greedo’s lack of depth and highly AutoTuned delivery along with Mustard’s highly listenable production are a Icee for a hot summer day — something cool and refreshing that quickly melts and is easily forgotten.

He’s not quite a great artist. He simply exists, but to those who want more of what XXXTENTACION offered without having to buy 50 posthumous releases, he’ll do.

You can’t examine Young Thug’s music too closely or think about it too carefully if you want to enjoy it, because the casual misogyny of throwing around “Pussy” as an insult reminds you he’s not exactly progressive. If you’re looking for bass to shake the concrete and singing so modulated as to nearly be R&B, tracks like “Jumped Out the Window” and “Boy Back” featuring NAV will definitely fit the bill.

The best thing about “Save Me” may be that it’s a very small bite to digest, clocking in at just barely over 20 minutes after the conclusion of “Love Thy Enemies.”

He can clearly still spit elite bars, at more or less the same rate he could over twenty years ago. “The Lost Tapes 2” may be marketed as a sequel, but it’s a selection of largely forgettable album cuts that didn’t make Nas’ last few albums.

ye is an average album with some good songs, some bad songs, and some songs that will clearly be spun millions of times. The problem is that "average" has never been good enough for Kanye West nor should it be.

Amusing, yes. Revolutionary? Not quite so much. ... Right now she's doing what sells and it's "Bodak Yellow" all day until her 15 minutes fades away.

The "Issa Album" was a full course meal while "Without Warning" ends up being more of a snack.

Rag'n'Bone Man needs to think more thoroughly about what exact story he wants to tell. Until then, Human is a heartwarming, mature pop album. Maybe it's been a wise decision to tone down the artist's hip-hop and rap background for now. But just the same, it could also have played a credible role.

While the beats are mostly good, it feels like Macklemore missed out on an opportunity to really set his solo career apart from Macklemore & Ryan Lewis.

Neva Left is unfortunately, yet predictably, another mixed bag. The good tracks are effectively updates to proven formulas, which when matched to more imposing beats, show Snoop hasn't lost his touch.

Even though there's little to nothing of intellectual nourishment for the majority of "Jungle Rules," there are slick songs like the Beat Billionaire produced Young Thug feature "Black Out" that you can literally do just that to.

The danger though is that The King & I turns into a new version of the "Duets" album, simply rebranded as a Faith Evans album featuring snippets of her late husband. This is exacerbated on the second half of the album by one rap all-star cameo after another.

His technique has a strong propensity towards predictable stream-of-consciousness rhyming.

Your patience will be especially tested during the closing trio of songs that could have been better had they been a couple minutes shorter and/or delivered with more zest musically.

On his new self-titled album Future loses sight of qualities that made his last run at the top a memorable one.

If you can get past some of the dumb lines and the often blunt nature of Big Sean's approach to seduction, there's enough solid, modern R&B here to satisfy those craving something a bit more direct than Drake, but it could have been so much more.

While the beats are relatively mediocre and not at all unusual for this brand of hip hop, they do a decent job matching the dark picture Gucci paints. Unfortunately, that picture is more of a rough sketch as Gucci steers more toward unrefined flows and bland, mechanically arching vocals rather than a more thought out approach.

Other tracks, such as "Gave It All I Got" bring a more introspective sentiment to Lil Big Pac, but these are few and far between and still lack quality deliveries and substantial beats to back them.

Drake's Views is him lying on a therapist's couch whining for large chunks of time and the album drags as a result. Yet, if you took the best dozen tracks, you'd have a perfectly enjoyable, listenable LP.

At the end of the day Mac Miller is without a doubt capable of bringing more to the table than shallow, boring rap. Unfortunately, he doesn't do much to prove that on GO:OD AM.

All in all this project comes up very short. Lil Wayne is simply not what he used to be, and 2 Chainz leaves much to be desired.

Overall this album has some definite stand out tracks: "Not the Only One," "2 Phones," "La Familia" and "Time For That." The rest of the project is not bad, it's just generally underwhelming.

He still has a lot of talent, he just needs to reign in his creative impulses (along with a few others) to make a better album next time.

The whole of the self-titled Fetty Wap album is remarkably inoffensive and uninspired.

As a mixtape, it works, but is nothing more than generic New York street rap set to some largely forgettable instrumentals.

If you can get into the fantasy and ignore the reality then DS2 might be good escapist music for a little while.

Much of Love Story is tepid, but there are moments where Yela nails the singing/rapping combination.

It's cotton candy hip-hop that's enjoyable to consume but has no real substance.

This is one to spin a couple of times, then never again.

The problem Ludacris faces is that both sides of him are great to listen to but it inevitably restricts him from making the cohesive magnum opus his career deserves.

It's nothing we've not heard before.

It is an LP with one hit single, some solid album cuts and the rest is genuinely quite forgettable.

The problem with Full Speed is that Kid Ink is often lost within his own album, as the listener anticipates the next song that's defined by its guest feature.

The Pinkprint is let down by some basic conceptual flaws, lackadaisical decision-making and even placing too much faith in bonus tracks to appease the masses

The stakes were so high, the pressure was on and what makes him interesting was ironed out in favour of low risk, high percentage choruses. Couple that with a mixed bag of lyrics from the rapper himself, and you get a curiously crafted mess that contains a few great songs that you'll end up loving, and lot of numbers that just weren't bold enough or executed with confidence.

Shady XV seems like it was made for: diehard fans of Marshall; and fresh kids who don't know no better. Otherwise, you'll probably have forgotten about the album by 2015, and 95% of the label's energy will soon be diverted to the next Eminem solo LP all over again.

RZA is certainly experimenting on a bunch of tracks, but results are unconvincing.

You're Dead loses momentum after "Never Catch Me." Much of the later two-thirds of the album is more atmospheric, reminiscent of 2012's more contemplative "When the Quiet Comes."

For the moment, we are treated to a promising if frustrating record that remarkably lacks a hit single itself.

Until Trey adds another layer to his songs, whether it be humor, empathy or any emotion other than a caveman-like approach to sex; Trigga remains a hollow, if tempting prospect for men that may well woo your woman, but is unlikely to keep your attention after.

We got what feels like a very quickly thrown together product that lacks the depth and introspection of his previous projects.

Despite being billed as his fifth album, it's nowhere near the level of his strong, yet largely overrated debut "Get Rich or Die Tryin'".

Death Grips have always been a challenging group to listen to, but Government Plates is more migraine-inducing than head-nodding.

There's simply not enough substance and individuality for me to call this a good rap album. But at the intersection of rap and pop it doesn't embarrass either side.

Unfortunately, the rhythm of the album is constantly interrupted by cacophonous dirges which makes it feel unsettled.

She's going for Nicki Minaj meets Eminem meets Rihanna on the Tyra show. It feels like a major missed opportunity.

So long as you don't expect Shakespeare and don't presume this to be a rap album, you won't be mad. It's pure pop done the way Pharrell does it.

Kid Ink hasn't so much found his own lane, but taken the well-worn stretch of road that's littered with empty beer bottles and discarded condoms; a road frequented by beautiful video-models and catchy hooks. Despite this, My Own Lane is tasteful, smooth and if taken at face value, an enjoyable example of radio-friendly hip hop.

Decidedly hit and miss, it's the songs that stray beyond the typical tales of money, sex and cars that are worth returning to.

If you can get past the ignorance, this is enjoyable for what it is - an album to be played loudly in your car, with the windows down and a middle finger up to anybody who looks at you disapprovingly.

Not so much a victim of his own success, but an unwillingness to take risks in the name of music.

Lyrically, let us not sugar coat the situation and pretend that he's some sort of Pulitzer prize winner in waiting. But in conjunction with the upgraded music, 2 Chainz has definitely put more work into his punchlines and it is most welcome.

There is very little humour and some of the production is flat out boring.

Minus the niceness of "Manson Murder" and "Hater Love", this should have been a mixtape as it isn't a patch on any of Styles' previous LPs.

As it stands, the album has some decent songs but doesn't hold together as an album.

Despite his years away acting, LL hasn't really lost his touch rapping. What he has lost is a sense of focus and direction.

There's Something 'Bout Kreay is the sound of a record company trying to turn 15 minutes of fame into a career, and spending way too much money in the process.

No Love Lost is too inconsistent to leave a lasting impression, and falls short of greatness.

York is an interesting and often times bizarre album.

Hotel California fails to deliver on any of the hype it had leading up to its release.

Amalgamating these with pop choruses makes the listening experience too scattered and ultimately leads A Moving Picture to stutter from frame to frame, and it doesn't help that the experience bows down to every chart formula around.

From the dance beats to the cross-pollination of guest artists to the old pop samples, Global Warming is a big dumb album that feels so calculated and market-tested that it is not much fun to listen to.

I Am Not a Human Being II flashes moments of brilliance, but it's far from his best work.

It's a decent but underwhelming album, and one that inspires apathy more than adoration or disgust.

Most poeple probably have those two tracks ["Love Sosa" and "I Don't Like"], and there isn't anything else on here that warrants buying this or taking the time to find a torrent of it.

There's at least one cringeworthy line in nearly every song.

The Odd Future fam needs better quality control to stay relevant in 2013 and beyond.

The biggest fault of Cruel Summer may be that it lacks a unifying voice or vision.

While the music is consistent and fairly unique in its murkiness, it's not particularly compelling and is a tad stale.

There are enough songs with worthwhile beats and guests to hold this album together to some degree, and depending on whether or not you like Flocka's lyrical style will be the degree.

The inspiring message that is clearly part of the appeal is still buried under too much empty rap rhetoric.

The end result is an album that is as unsuccessful as it is daring.

A missed opportunity to progress.

It certainly doesn't reach the catchy levels of Ross' biggest hits on most songs, but sounds good enough to have been decent album tracks.

Ultimately I have two complaints about Blue Slide Park which in the grand scheme of things may be minor.

Radioactive is a mixed bag that has some outstanding tracks, while others fail from a lack of execution particularly in the production and hook department.

There are some other strong tracks on this album, including Santigold's guest spot on "Car Song," and "Energy," which sounds like a lost Talking Heads song. There are also several that are either forgettable or downright bad.