It’s not that Scorpion is bad music - it’s exactly what you’d expect, and too much of it. Its maximalism offers plenty for the converted (and the charts), after all, this far in, nothing is going to turn those set against him. For those of us with more complicated relationships with Drake’s music, there’s also nothing here to overwhelm the sense of stagnation dominant since Views.

Only ‘Peanut Butter’ stands out amongst the morass by dint of its crashing introduction. Even that track eventually settles down into the record’s bloated template. It’s a shame, because there are some lovely moments.

In general, Young Romance is a record that wears its influences plainly on its pulsating sleeves. It may not astound you, but like a pleasant day by the pool, it’s more than pleasant enough to be worth it.

This collection of tracks could be spunked on by a Joe Satriani-type noodle, and individually each member could break free and have their moment to shine, but instead they shun solos and move as unit, maintaining collective power and defiantly sticking to their modus operandi.

Standout tracks, melancholic interludes and stylistic jumpiness add elements of unpredictability to Everett and co. that they’ve sorely missed. But these same things also make it an overarching mess.

This latest effort isn't comparable with the visceral exoticness that Jimmy Page began to find on Physical Graffiti, but a more focused and staunchly unified project, designed to push the conventions of improvisational rock music and provide Rhyton's competent credentials with actual substance.

You can hear [that the songs were written very quickly]; the atmosphere across the album is very constant. However, it makes them very similar by the same standard.

Nektyr is a tough record to like. Fans of Cocteau Twins may be better placed than I to pierce the veil and properly appreciate the wonders within. For me, trying to pull away the mud and heavily-baked conceit left me exhausted.

Vessel's ambition has exceeded his abilities. By trading in his synth for sheet metal he has lost out on what caused people to stand up and take notice.

Individuality has been smoothed out by production and a lack of lyrical diversity. Undeniably a star, Maggie’s light has been dimmed here.

This is still a lovely, lovely record, on the surface at least; I'm not sure it'll stand up quite as well to heavy rotation as its predecessor.

At the end of the day, an outtakes record only appeals to super-fans and aficionados. Cowboy Worship is an interesting look at the evolution of Amen Dunes, but it doesn't add much to their oeuvre.

The message behind the music is much more clichéd, and much less interesting.

White and Mosshart's collaboration feels like a tale of the proverbial nearly men--close, but no cigar.

On I’ll Be Your Girl, The Decemberists do a few things well, a few things poorly, and most of them acceptably and nothing more. The fact that it never goes completely off the rails is almost as disappointing as the fact that it never finds its footing or seems interested in doing so.

The ideas are fleshed out so well sometimes, and it's upsetting that I have to wait until 'City' to once again get to a place where the records conciseness is shared with its depth.

Sometimes he lands on stanzas worth savoring (“All that I fear is that all that I have given you is a ship out to nowhere that wants to be out of control/but I see the light in oh so many things out here, and a lifetime so gently now sits on the stairs to my home.”) Other times, timelessness gives way to stuffiness, with lyrics that act more like riddles he doesn’t really care about solving (“When every wind is an afterlife out here, what language do you dream in when you’re drunk?”)

It's decent and fairly enjoyable, but nothing astounds.

Though it definitely has its moments and manages to grapple with the horror of modernity there’s a split keeping this from feeling quite as cohesive as it should.

Juice B Crypts is certainly a decent-enough math rock album, but when you have people as experienced and talented as Williams and Stanier “decent-enough” doesn’t cut it.

Electric Würms as a whole: cool and weird with some great moments, but little structure or direction.

The White Album is a return to a particular state, but it was never going to be a return to form.

The band still show the glimmer of potential they’ve always carried, and it’s nice to know that consistency is possible with the band. ‘Doctor’s In' ends with an abrupt fadeout, and your memory of Tasmania can depart at a similarly unsatisfying rate.

Many Moons is the fussy, neat feeling we already know of him. The only real change is that we now have to look deeper and listen more closely to invoke a powerful connection between artist and listener. If the songs were more engaging, this would be easier to do. However, they all resolve to their same base parts, and thus become more forgettable than the feelings Real Estate's best songs have conjured.

Cabello is finding her footing, and with more swings than misses here, the album signals a hopeful future for a fledgling pop giant.

Hourglass Pond is an off-balance album. If you played the album to someone who didn’t know Tare had a new album, it would be very unclear where it belongs in his discography.

‘Unspoken History’ and ‘I Want U’ show she has real talent. With more work, and more pain, she might graduate from The Best of Luck Club.

There are lovely moments on this album, but often they are repeated far too many times and for far too long; it's a fatal mishandling of what could be a lithe and catchy collection of electro-pop.