This is a missed opportunity, but it's commendable that when both parties are not at their strongest the results can still satisfy.

Surrounding himself with talent that far surpasses his own doesn't hide the weakness of many of these tracks.

A joyous sense of imagination proves to be its own reward.

Errors have never sounded more magnificent.

Melody's magic combination of dreamy sonics and saccharine vocals is an inexorable pleasure.

There are times when all you need is a stompy bass drum to underpin a killer melody, and that's exactly what makes Beacon tick; nothing's overworked or overcomplicated.

This, their fourth full-length in as many years, proves the San Franciscans are a dependable force.

Deerhoof's eleventh album continues their long tradition of delighting and confounding in equal measure.

'Lost Souls' is so preposterously raucous it should have the record industry running scared at the point of a pitchfork.

The overall feel is of a semi-fascinating compilation album, making Tall Ships easy to appreciate but very difficult to love.

An album that's sprinkled with magic.

On the whole, Tender Signs struggles to get beyond the level of an immersive period piece.

When it works – as on the heartbreaking 'Together' and a barrelling 'The Magic Position' – it highlights his gifts as a songwriter, but on the dreary 'Bitten' and a seemingly endless 'Vulture' it makes you long for something simpler to mark his brilliance.

The zingy, careening pop of 'Do The Right Thing', and the grandiose welterweight rock of 'Teenage Daughter' are their most effective communiqués.

As the title track gradually morphs from delicate ballad to fisherman shanty to blissful climax it's hard not to be awed, even if those casual listeners might not find much to keep them.

[Parts of the album are] bogged by balladry and at times blighted by tales that teeter on puerile, but this Nottingham scamp has got chops beyond his tender years.

Articulate lyrics, brutality, aggression and hot, thick-and-fast sequences that could turn Benjamin Francis Leftwich into a spliff-stealing thug characterise 119.

METZ is pulverizing, but in an artistic, superior way; the Canada-based trio balance noise, aggression and tact expertly.

Halcyon is a bold and confident step forward.

Another twelve inches of brilliance.

An explosion of Snaith's warm-yet-manic verve, this is euphoria from a new master of the dancefloor.

Mostly, it's a success.

Ultimately, though, such moments [eight-minute behemoth 'Rolling Out' and 'Free Action''s endless harping on a major seventh chord] of purgatory only make tracks like the sweetly-countrified title track and the blissful 'Trails' sound more like some kind of heaven.

The scale [on The 2nd Law] is such that you have to stand back in a kind of addled awe. Much in the same way that you might regard a 75ft-high luminous pink pissing flamingo water feature; you have to admire the size of the ambition and the craftsmanship, even if it's not something you'd necessarily want at your own house.

In short, this time, they've nailed it.

Effectively, it is emo for Blacksmiths. This would all be semi-tolerable, were it not for the sickeningly overwrought poetry bobbing on top.

On [Strapped] they've toned down their trademark do-or-die spirit and returned with something far more considered and refined.

An album of controlled explosions that reclaims rock for the oldies and gives the kids something to mosh to.