Planta feels lightweight; not much really catches the ear or imagination.

Nice is the word.

Throughout, we get a wounded and fragile man setting his hope-filled heart to music.

The result is refreshing but also a bit boring, although things get interesting towards the end.

It's difficult to tell, though, how much is sock and how much darn.

MFAD! finds them sounding like exactly what they are, namely an airbrushed, Massachusetts version of the Stones.

Over rudimentary backing beats, in that "ya feel me?" accent, his humour often hits the spot. However, the going-through-Customs skit, followed by a track about having his urine tested at the airport, is as tedious as it is righteous.

An example of its genre it most certainly is.

It's high-class karaoke, covering the Chi-Lites, Dorothy Moore, The Dells, Womack & Womack.

A loose-limbed, spacious, American indie-folk-rock. Political, challenging, dissatisfied and, naturally, righteous.

A charming companion piece to The Best of...

It won’t frighten the horses, but it might encourage you to buy an overpriced T-shirt.

Dazzling songs, dismally sung.

It remains the case that this kind of thing only has something to say about distance travelled, no more.

Apart from a bit of pedal steel and some gospel backing vocals, it sounds a lot like a Snow Patrol record, rendering the whole exercise somewhat redundant.

Her Lennox-meets-Tyler, or Welch-meets-Tunstall lungs boom out across a Heart FM-friendly pop-rock sound which sometimes attains a sweeping Stevie Nicks drama but often merely reaches Dido level.

What Corazon certainly contains is a brightly recorded, punchy collection of “Latin” beats and melodies, plus some rock, featuring a handful of distinguished guests and the familiar overflying drone of Carlos’s own guitar obbligati.

Despite a version of Earth Wind & Fire's "After The Love Is Gone" that is so good you can play it for days, this dream-team collaboration between jazz singer Elling and big-time weirdo producer Don Was delivers less than it promises.

None of it is clumsy but, equally, none of it truly escapes the originator's gravitational field.

The beats aren't always the best, but Wretch, who lives on the notorious Tiverton Estate and whose "mum's still living in the ends", has a self-awareness lacking in many of his peers.

While newer tracks “My Song 5” and “Let Me Go” snag by throwing surprisingly moody shapes, Martika-esque closer “Running if You Call My Name” sounds like something smoothed for A-list romcom duties.

The Vega songwriting style is hardwearing.

A cloudless orgy of nostalgia.

Chris Thile is the most remarkable mandolinist in the world; fluent, articulate and sometimes just a little too clever to be truly engaging.

Much of the time, it's reheated Madchester. The rest, it's over-literal psychedelia.

Reconvening after a four-year hiatus, the duo have carried on where they left off--meaning the Frankmusik-produced TW is gentle, blissful and devoid of the exuberant electro romps of yesteryear.

This is a sweet, light confection, but insubstantial as whipped cream and too sugary for some tastes.

In place of the suavité we associate with Songbook Rod, we get a whooping, sequenced modernisation of 1970s Guitar-Rock Rod.