The Silver Gymnasium lacks some of whatever it was that made previous albums like 'Black Sheep Boy' and 'The Stage Names' so special.

For the majority of tracks, they succeed in their goals. It’s only when looking back at the whole picture, somehow the pieces don’t quite appear to fit.

Branching out musically is a bold step that pays off in flashes, but the riff work in ‘Welcome to Hell’ and ‘Jailbird’’s brief guitar solo confirm that, at heart, Crocodiles are strongest with guitars in hand.

In an age where any era of music is within a second’s grasp, The Lemon Twigs’ reliance on nostalgia is at best dated; at worst, pure laziness.

While there’s a certain amount of showmanship--he’s certainly still got skills--more often than not it sounds like he’s simply going through the motions.

Not a lot on Spreading Rumours makes sense. It doesn't match, even in its apparent desperate attempt to sound like the bargain bin of an Urban Outfitters.

House of Spirits is a half-success, showing promise and ambition but lacking both the direction and the songs to be anything but a minor addition to the band’s catalogue.

Getting to the end is a slog. Sometimes, maybe you can just be a bit too clever for your own good.

The frustration comes from Stains on Silence's propensity for a feeling little bit too rough around the edges, unfinished almost, despite it’s reworking.

Frequent changes in instrumentation and tone ultimately make Oczy Mlody feel unfocused, and without any of the band’s signature flamboyance to fall back on, it makes for a dull listen.

Glitterbug is a tired album that lacks invention and makes the landfill indie tag even easier to attribute.

Weak and boring are never words we’d have ever thought apply to Poppy’s music, but alas here we are – hoping for the ‘Zag’ to come.

It’s hard to ignore the inconsistency and feeling that something’s lacking from its second half. That said, the rough-around-the-edges charm and guitar-packed indie give DMA’s a great starting point on this album.

Flashes of the airtight songwriting that ran through ‘Scream Aim Fire’ and ‘Fever’ remain--closer ‘Pariah’ does controlled fury very well--but otherwise, it has to be case of back to the drawing board, because Bullet sound as if they’re beginning to run on fumes.

All things considered Chuck Inglish hasn’t offered enough that’s new or high quality enough to truly make a mark.

Messy in its execution, and lacking in simplicity, No_One Ever Really Dies isn't nearly as profound as it thinks it is.

Sunny Hills is at its best when it keeps things simple, with the taut ‘Dreamer’ the clear standout; perhaps next time, All We Are won’t throw quite so many ideas at the wall, because few of them stick here.

Ultimately Beyond The Wizards sleeve sounds like what it is--a hobby. As an outsider, it simply doesn’t reap the same rewards as it might have for its creators.

Iit feels like a natural extension from what’s come before rather than a bold move forward, but you can tell Santigold had fun making it all the same.

The material on Keel Her is probably best enjoyed one by one--17 tracks at once is a bit much.

The apex of which Moon Duo head towards on The Shadow of the Sun isn’t reached and seemingly it burns out before entering a new atmosphere

With a few forgettable songs and seemingly overcrowded moments, Lo-Fang's debut falls short--acting as more of a promise of what's to come, rather than a thrilling introduction.

Extension relies not just on quality component parts (of which there are many here), but too on tender placement and a development which holds some compassion for the listener. On this rich but straggling album, of Montreal fail on both accounts.

The result is still just a big, slick, debatably-decent pop record.

‘Are You Fucking Your Ex’ has none of the melodrama its title suggests, the question holding about as much weight as ‘did I leave the bathroom light on?’, and ‘I Got Hurt’ sledgehammers the line “I got hurt… and it didn’t feel good”. For a songwriter who’s so loved for finding poetry in the quotidian, for saying so much with so little, it’s just a bit basic. Maybe if he’d allowed him - and us - to wallow a bit, he’d have had more of a point.

Desire’s best moments arrive when there’s a genuine attempt to create a bit of atmosphere--the cool strut of ‘Spotlights’ is a rare bright point. Everything else, though, has been done better elsewhere, and recently, too.

‘Social Cues’ is a study in US radio - or so it seems, each song a suitable soundtrack to faceless car journeys along nondescript roads: think Imagine Dragons in leather jackets and ripped jeans, if you will.

It remains evident that the pair stellar pop songs in their armoury, but their over-reliance on a standard formula finds this debut stuck in a bit of a creative rut.