Though the writing is clever and at times funny, the whininess and constant soul-searching shuts the audience out, and anyone deciding to stay is bludgeoned again and again with his relentless wet sentimentality.

As usual, it features some reliably masterful beat work and production, but, at the same time, falls somewhat short in becoming the grand defining statement that its creator was intending it to be.

All in all, the blanketing lime-lit production, the in-your-face ’60s nostalgia, the five-sugars-in-the-tea gooiness of it all may be too cloying for some, but Miles Kane has been so upfront about these musical influences, and for so long, that one can only admire him for so faithfully embodying them.

Only rarely can the listener form more than an ephemeral bond. ’Keep It Tight’ and ‘Friend Like That’ have an all-for-one gang mentality akin to chats with old friends. Unfortunately, it otherwise feels like watching strangers from across a dance floor.

Uncle, Duke and The Chief is a chirpy affair that’s very much in the vein we’ve come to expect, even when there’s a sadness permeating the lyrics.

Billie Joe and Norah’s frolic into the Everlys’ back-catalogue makes a rewarding listen and serves its purpose mighty well: to retell an old American classic that deserves re-telling.

Drop your expectations of freak pop from another dimension, and there’s plenty to like.

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.

Jassbusters is the album of a musician who has been around the block a bit, knows what he wants and more importantly how to get it.

It's punk rock by the numbers.

On paper, Junto (Spanish for ‘together’) should make for an eclectic, flag-waving affair--but sadly many of its disparate parts blissfully miss the mark.

Go Fly A Kite is a likeable album, but it sounds like Jet at its worst times and like an American alt-rock band past their sell by date at its best.

The irony is that perhaps in trying to grow old a little too gracefully Jimmy Eat World have lost some of the youthful exuberance that so endeared them to us in those heady days around the turn of the millennia.

It doesn’t always quite hit those high notes, but the pair have set out to create a sometimes elusive feeling of connection. Its sheer scope alone means there’s likely to be something here that will undoubtedly resonate.

There aren’t quite enough hooks to unite some of the more exciting experimentalism, but when SHIRT does throw them it’s not certain that they land.

bounty is a record that, whilst great to vibe out to, kind of feels a little stitched together piecemeal.

There’s a further sense of spiriting when harps show up on the tracks ‘Limbs’ and ‘Take Him In’, and ultimately this album succeeds as an ominous exercise in atmosphere.

At best, it's eccentricity gone wild--there's no shortage of weird noises creeping in throughout--and at worst, just confusing.

This is clearly an album of personal and musical growth for Lykke Li--it’ll be interesting to see where she goes next.

With a good spread of melodies and hooks throughout, even if ideas do fly about like rice paper, it’s a strong development of a record.

The overbearing problem with Isaac Gracie is just how Isaac Gracie-centric it is.

As to be expected in this setting, the collaborations are occasionally guilty of overindulgence.

Although Wasser has perhaps sounded better in the past and too many of the songs stretch past their welcome, The Classic is a welcome addition to Joan As Police Woman's repertoire and a recommended addition to any album collection due to its impressive ability to surprise and innovate as it moves forward.

Save for a few tweaks, she doesn’t go to great lengths to expand upon the musical formula that’s served her to date.

It’s a mostly successful and far more mature record; it just has to be seen as a more grown-up Anthems for Doomed Youth rather than the anthems from doomed youth that they previously brought.

For all its unwieldy eccentricity, Good Sad Happy Bad is still fascinating.

Unfortunately, these [familiar touches] are huddled together rather than woven throughout the album, breaking the illusion of a perpetual contrast. When Solide Mirage eventually hits its mark though, it’s impossible not buy into Marry’s idea of a changeable album that dreams of unity and addressing frustrations through as many channels as possible.

Ultimately though, there are too many times here where these tracks sound too contrived and calculated, a false approximation in place of the real thing.