Rewild is a decent debut album with enough promise to justify keeping a watchful eye for the future.

Pretty but inessential, God Help The Girl may make more sense when the film is finally delivered next year. Up until then this is largely of interest to Belle & Sebastian completists.

The overall effect of Skeletons is akin to being poked and prodded by a bratty child for over half an hour.

The album may revive the band's career in North America, but for many of their loyal fans it will come as a major disappointment.

What the Paisley born artist has come up with on Sunny Side Up is baffling.

While this isn't a bad album--and Manson diehards are likely to enjoy it quite a bit--there's the sense that it may be an unwanted one.

While it sometimes does become a bit too overwrought, those people who found Tori Amos' vignettes so compelling will find much to love here. It helps as well that there's a light pop touch on many of the tracks.

He infuses Relapse with occasional sparks, but fails to transcend the same tired themes--except, of course, when he becomes Marshall Mathers, the Recovering Drug Addict.

Abnormally Attracted To Sin turns out to be a collection of tracks that simply doesn't work as a whole because it can't properly be listened to in one go. Pity, for somewhere in amongst it all Tori proves that she's still capable of producing a storming album.

They will remain a formidable live proposition, but Maximo Park's third album has to go down as a disappointment--especially given the band's previous high standards.

On record it's just a little flat because it's all about energy and despite occasional flourishes, the songs are a bit underwhelming.

This is a fairly straightforward rock record, to some degree, and its simplicity takes away from those moments in which Hukkelberg thrives.

But for all its shortcomings, Bricolage is at least well intentioned and definitely well executed--frenetic, tightly instrumented, and performed with aplomb.

Even if the strut is more tentative and the recollections come with a twinge of regret, Cause I Sez So is certainly one for the ages.

Entertainment, though, sounds tame by anyone's standards; and by eschewing their seedy, sweaty origins in favour of clean-cut pop, they've dumped those elements of their act which made them unique in the first place.

Gardot's wistful, breathy voice belies her youth and the unobtrusive competence of this album effortlessly belies the difficulties she has striven to overcome.

It's obvious that they've spent a while cultivating a specific look, but they seem to have only spent half of that time on the album.

The band's way with a catchy hook and a summery, laid back vibe may yet see them overtake Maroon 5, but that's where their lofty thoughts should settle for now.

In the context of a studio recording, Cage The Elephant's premiere isn't far off insufferable.

It would be nice to see The Broken Family Band attempting something other than the boringly retrograde rock on display in Please And Thank You.

A good first try for an album, but it's just not quite there yet.

It's reminiscent at times to what pal and label stablemate Will Oldham did on Bonnie "Prince" Billy Sings Greatest Palace Music.

It is in reality a bit boring, a bit generic, and a bit aggravating.

Apart from the nice flourishes and an undoubtedly authentic-sounding replication of mid- to late-'60s underground psychedelia, this album seems to have been something of a misfire, lacking a convincing emotional undertow, or sufficient clarity in its musical presentation to engage or entrance the listener.

It's a frustrating listen, ultimately. There's enough promise here to suggest a band full of potential, but you get the feeling that they won't be breaking out of that cult status anytime soon.

Be that as it may, it is the band's recent failure to effectively collaborate, and for these 11 tracks to properly mesh, that has fostered the mediocrity inherent in A New Tide.

Listening to Rules is a surprisingly boring experience. At several instances throughout this album you wish someone would let rip with a guitar solo, fire off a rave horn or just do something to liven up proceedings.

1990s have not made a bad album, but like the decade itself Kicks never lives up to its promise and contains too many derivative and unmemorable moments.