Slipknot’s new album We Are Not Your Kind is to be let loose just as the band celebrate 20 years since their self-titled debut was released and five since .5: The Gray Chapter. Any idea that the misanthropic US shock-rockers might have turned down their shtick with time are far wide of the mark. Relentless tsunamis of guitar riffage and pounding drums with roaring vocals power such nihilistic monsters as “Nero Forte” and “Orphan”, as might be expected.

After 15 seconds, it’s obvious who The New Adventures Of… is by. PP Arnold’s instantly recognisable, slightly cracked yet melodic, gospel-informed voice weaves through “Baby Blue” like a bird navigating thermal air currents. The song itself is no slouch too.

Founded in 1998, the Los Angeles based Anticon collective has become one of the most curiously individual of 21st century groupings.

Don’t Look Now is beautiful in its dankness – an eldritch psychological thriller that follows a grieving father’s stream-of-consciousness as it flows into deadly waters.

On the face of it, the idea of “an East Anglian Americana collective” is a little weird, but then East Anglia’s an area that’s historically been host to a lot of Yanks and it was from one of the USAF bases that the late great Paul Oliver, the British polymath who chronicled the blues in so many ground-breaking books, first heard the sounds of authentic Americana.

If you are between 13 and 17 years old, Mabel is pop royalty because she’s maintained a playlist/daytime radio presence for the last two years, culminating in her over-my-ex smash “Don’t Call Me Up” at the start of this year. With six Top 20 hits under her belt, two Brit Award nominations and a billion streams, she’s doing well.

In metal circles, Volbeat are a phenomenon. For almost 20 years the Danish rockers have been filling venues with their iconic combination of bulldozer riffs and hip-shaking Elvis swagger. It's the tension between these two contrasting influences that underpins their success. Or, at least, so far. Now, the recipe has changed: the tension has gone. The flavours have merged. It all sounds a lot softer. 

Fans won't be altogether surprised. Songwriter Michael Poulsen's music has been getting progressively lighter for years. What really strikes you is how mainstream it now feels. Other than the occasional obligatory rockabilly-metal number, the album is split between soft and contemporary rock.

The soft rock tracks fare the best. "The Last Day Under the Sun", about Johnny Cash, is a real windows-down, wind-in-the-hair West Coast rocker. "Cheapside Slogger" is an invigorating glam stomp. The rockabilly/psychobilly numbers aren't half bad either. "Die to Live" has a rich aroma of Brylcreem and engine oil. "Sorry Sack of Bones" feels almost like King Kurt. But, "Pelvis on Fire", the Presley pastiche, is way over the top.

The album's most lacklustre moments come where the boys flirt with a more contemporary rock sound. "Rewind the Exit" ends up sounding like Snow Patrol. "Leviathan" and "7-24"  are colourless and uninspired. The limpest song on the LP, "When We Were Kings", could practically be by The Fray. 

It's curious, then, that the band gave the album the title Rewind, Replay, Rebound which sounds like an attempt to evoke the early days. The LP is certainly not that, or even close. And yet, it's not a bad album either. It may be patchy, with frequent excursions into almost unpardonable blandness, but at its best, there's also the air of consummate musicians cutting loose. That, more or less, redeems it.

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@russcoffey

Overleaf: Volbeat's video for "The Last Day Under the Sun"