If you're looking for choice picks that suit your current standing (single / taken / stuck in lockdown lusting) then you'll find what you need - a relatable nature is served up on a silver platter - but a greater understanding of anything other than the above shall not be found.

Always Strive and Prosper is arena rap in jet-set dance-pop drag, and while A$AP Ferg’s talent occasionally flickers when it’s directed in the wrong places, it shines brightest when he’s just being himself.

It would be easier if this album were bad, which it isn’t: it’s a competent, often fairly enjoyable set of performances. But as neither good Springsteen nor good popular soul, it’s likely to fade out of most listeners’ memories long before the final track drifts off into nothingness.

What Do We Do Now has some interesting moments on its first side, but quite a bit of it does feel leaden and lacking in energy.

Much of the album carries this sense of being a showpiece for one of its individual elements--more often than not, it is Ronald Lippok’s shuffling percussion which breathes life into Instrument.

Wasted Years is unlikely to appeal to a whole new legion of fans, but those already on-board should be happy with their order of ‘more of the same’.

Perhaps the wildly-inventive producer isn’t inspired to break the mould, or to look for a new direction, but he is a producer sure to contrast this low with a high next time. It’s alright as it is, this record, but no more than that.

This is the same old monotonous Weeknd melancholy, only distilled through a huge pop filter. Which certainly makes it listenable, and a little bit nicer, but far from the innovative mainstream breakthrough album we were promised.

Despite all of its 33 minutes being recorded in a home built studio that also doubles as a brewery, there’s little to suggest anything particularly wacky rubbed off on the sound.

The band fails to keep up that feverish tempo, and the album’s bewitching beginning quickly gives way to less inspired, repetitive numbers that plague a majority of the record, especially its weak second half.

At its best, it’s vintage Quasi.... But at its worst, you find yourself checking the tracklist to see just how much more of the record is left.

Lovato’s move to heavier music is by no means a mistake, but this reimagining of her old music feels artificial. Generic pop music is turned into formulaic rock music, lacking the substance and authenticity of her previous album.

It at least proves that Trail of Dead are by no means a spent creative force, but they’re going to have to try harder to recapture the genuinely visceral energy of their classic records if they’re ever going to reach beyond their own fanbase again.

There’s little to get excited about here--there’s no wheel reinventing, no formula shake-up, no scrawling outside any boxes... it’s just pleasant, familiar indie-rock that verges on wishy-washy.

It’s reassuring to hear her in this state of mind after the unrelenting heaviness of Head Above Water. Even if Love Sux isn’t a perfect album, it’s certainly a well-deserved victory lap from someone with little left to prove.

For existing fans this is a tonally varied addition to his substantial oeuvre, but the record will likely prove too oblique, even passé, for more virgin ears.

While the signature style they have debuted with is admirable, some time to experiment and push the boundaries just a little further will make NewDad a true force to be reckoned with.

Problem is, this is essentially the same stuff they released in 2008, and since there are 77 minutes of it, it's entirely too much of the same stuff.

None of the tracks are bad per se. But they lack something that the first tastes promised, and so pieced together it feels like the debut is not worth more than the sum of its parts.

Yes, B-sides and rarities are sort of supposed to feel rough or incomplete, but A Folk Set Apart seems to be characterised far more by its misguided decisions than by its lack of polish or perfection.

He has not made a classic here, but he may have made an album which allows him to do so again in the future.

As a whole, it’s just a shame that on Means, FEWS’ originality seems far between.

La Di Da Di however limits the potential for “free-thinking” with a series of stagnant, self-conscious ideas and motifs. Unfortunately, Battles have not mastered the art of repetition on La Di Da Di.

Overall Resistance is Futile is an interesting nexus of the Manics’ twin ambitions towards populism and complexity--and an encouraging sign that they are still progressing after over 30 years.

While Providence is by no means a failure or throwaway LP, as a body of work, it doesn't quite keep you enthralled and, more than often, leaves you grimacing at the cacophony of, at times, irritating sound that's pummelling your eardrums.

As this band is essentially a bunch of like-minded friends getting together, they clearly don’t have any worries about how this record is going to be received. Perhaps they’re resting on the laurels of legendary past projects, but this record neither breaks new ground nor successfully exploits the flow of an old formula.

Love-burnt and ambitious, Drake has produced something better than its predecessors, but without the fallback of crowd-pleasers, it is hard to see it standing the test of time.

Sadly, what should have been a triumphant return ends up being as forgettable as the time of year of its release. It’s a middling album birthed in a middling, gloomy time of year without much joy to offer. Not even a proper chuckle.