Nine hours after meeting up in a Shoreditch courtyard to discuss her new album Music for People in Trouble, Norway’s Susanne Sundfør is on stage elsewhere in the district at a theatre called The Courtyard. It’s a sell-out and the room she’s playing is over-full and over-hot. A few days before the album’s release, most of the new songs are unfamiliar to the audience. Yet connections are made instantly.

The Some Bizzare Album was released in January 1981. Compiled by DJ Stevo, it featured twelve unsigned acts he felt represented a fresh way of approaching pop – one enabled by the availability of synthesisers and rhythm machines. Stevo was playing the new music at the nights he hosted, putting the bands on and compiling the electronic chart for the weekly music paper Sounds. After being inundated with demo tapes, he chose the ones he liked best and issued the album.

We are living, I think it’s fair to say, in troubled times. That is, if we’re living at all by the time of publication. Putting aside, for a second, the sabre-rattling of two monstrous egos, there is a need, in such dark days, of some light. Thankfully, Hard Lines, the third album from British pop act Lucky Soul shines with the force and intensity of the Sun – admittedly still not as hot as an exploding thermonuclear warhead, but let’s work with what we have.

For the last four years US pop superstar Kesha has had a huge but miserable media presence. Her bitterly fought court battle to be released from her contract with producer/alleged Svengali Dr Luke, which involved allegations of abuse and sexual assault, created reams of headlines and social media conjecture, but gave the lie to the notion that “all publicity is good publicity”. And there’s been almost no music in that interim. Now, however, minus the dollar sign that used to make up the “s” in her name, Kesha returns with all guns blazing, and the best of her third album takes the listener by surprise.

The mood of Rainbow is righteous fury, as might be expected. On the three opening tracks, this works brilliantly. The album’s opening lines, on the stadium-acoustic “Bastards”, are “Got too many people that I’d like to prove wrong/All these motherfuckers been too mean for too long”, and she doesn’t stint on the swearing from thereon. “Let ‘Em Talk” is an Avril Lavigne–style plastic punker and the cuss-crazed, Stax-on-speed “Woman” comes on like a rabid Amy Winehouse, courtesy of The Dap Kings’ horn section.

Kesha, however, also has a penchant for cheese and power ballads. Sometimes this works, as on the space-pop “Hymn”, but sometimes it’s less successful, as on the ultra-epic “Praying”. Dolly Parton pops in for the country waltz “Old Flames (Can’t Hold a Candle to You)” and Kesha let’s her hair down for a glam stomp on the “Monster Mash”-meets-Sweet “Boogie Feet”, but the best material arrives when she doesn’t curb her innate eccentricity.

There’s plenty of country flavour on Rainbow and it works well, from the kooky, albeit faintly stalker-ish “Hunt You Down” to the jolly, Eartha Kitt-goes-electro canter of “Boots”. The album’s closing tracks, the child-like, preposterous “Godzilla” and the excellent, five-minute cosmic strum of “Spaceship”, showcase a woman whose talent is only just starting to truly shine. In fact, turn this album into an EP of its best six or seven cuts and it would be 5/5 material, because Rainbow is a smart, sassy, well-calibrated return to the fray.

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Overleaf: Watch the video for "Woman" by Kesha

If you consider the fanciful notion that Arcade Fire are a kind of Canadian art house Dexys Midnight Runners who have substituted strained angsty soul for strained angsty rock, then the title track of their new album is their “Come On Eileen”. It’s got that same striving for some kind of transcendence beyond the boundaries of what is, after all, just pop music.

Back in 2013, Haim's debut seemed like the freshest breath of air in a slightly stuffy rock scene. The girls' inimitable musical style – a kind of blend of Stevie Nicks and Shania Twain – lit up any number of radio playlists. Equally important was their air of authenticity. These three musical prodigies from LA were literally sisters and literally doing it for themselves. But there were still nagging doubts – particularly after one TV performance which they, rather oddly, dedicated to David Cameron. For all their hippy hairstyles were the girls actually as free-spirited as they seemed? 

Something to Tell You indicates that the trio may not be quite as bohemian as they look. The guiding principle during the album's lengthy gestation seems to have been to iron out every inch of quirkiness. The result is an album which is mostly fine – sometimes even better – but which is also very middle-of-the-road. Gone are the off-centre melodies of "The Wire" and "Don't Save Me" and in their place we find hooks and choruses so polished you can practically see your face in them.

Of course, not everybody will consider this a bad thing. Fans of American FM rock, for instance, will love the Fleetwood Mac vibe on "Nothing's Wrong", an influence so strong you can hardly believe that Nicks and Buckingham aren't lurking somewhere in there. There are also a handful of tracks bound to delight TV producers looking for soundtrack material. "Little of Your Love" and "Want You Back" have a kind of summery feel that evokes the lives of beautiful people. It's achieved with a mix of power-pop and adult-orientated rock. And therein the lies the rub. Something to Tell You bids farewell to the girls' greatest asset. It is the work of slick, professional grown-ups. What made their debut so well-loved, on the other hand, was its air of gauche naivety.

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@russcoffey 

Overleaf: watch the video for "Want you Back"

The follow-up to Lorde's multi-platinum, Grammy-nominated album Pure Heroine has been a long time coming after the 16-year-old singer/songwriter withdrew from the limelight and beat a hasty retreat back to her home country of New Zealand.

After the persuasive opening singles “Chained to the Rhythm”, “Bon Appétit” and “Swish Swish”, as well as all Katy Perry’s pre-release talk about “purposeful pop”, there was a feeling that Witness might push the boat out, taking Perry’s music into more intriguing terrain than previously. Perhaps it might even achieve the leaps forward made by Beyoncé with last year’s masterpiece, Lemonade, or Madonna’s transformations with producers William Orbit and Stuart Price, in 1998 and 2005 respectively. Unfortunately, while occasionally tasty, it cannot meet those comparisons, yet it’s still Perry’s most enjoyable and consistent album.

There’s a sideline in heartache – power ballad “Miss You More”, which includes lines such as “So strange you know all my secrets, keep them safe”, will have sleb-watchers pondering whether Perry’s ex, Russell Brand, is the subject. But, mostly, it’s full of self-empowerment epics that are her stock in trade, notably the enormous “Hey Hey Hey” which features couplets such as “’Cause I can be zen and I can be the storm, yeah!/Smell like a rose and I pierce like a thorn, yeah!”.

It’s a perfect slice of pop, lightly marinated in calypso

A tried and tested team of hit-spewing producer-songwriters, such as Max Martin, Sia, Jeff Bhasker and Duke Dumont (as well as Jack Garratt and Hot Chip's Alexis Taylor) make sure the whole thing sounds irresistibly gigantic. Happily, it has sonic depth, rather than Perry’s usual compressed earbud candy. “Roulette” is electro-pop for giant beings, while “Pendulum” sounds like a funky 1970s Elton John number inflated to 21^st century stadium vastness. The two housey numbers, “Swish Swish” (featuring Nicki Minaj) and “Déjà Vu” are warm and enjoyable, and the bouncy ode to oral sex, “Bon Appétit”, is suitably frisky and rude (“Got me spread like a buffet”).

The stand-out track, by far, however, is “Chained to the Rhythm”, co-written by Sia and featuring Bob Marley’s grandson, Skip. It’s a perfect slice of pop, lightly marinated in calypso with lyrics and a melody that brilliantly muster both existential hopelessness and remaining upbeat against bad odds. It seems to be about everything from political complacency to being blind-sided by hedonism. It’s a song that will deservedly have a long and well-loved life. The rest of the album sits in its shadow, but still has its moments.

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Overleaf: Watch the video for Katy Perry "Chained to the Rhythm"

In 1990, Ride were in the first wave of the Shoegazing scene to get out of the blocks and into the studio to record their iconic debut EP. Four albums and a sack load of EPs and singles later, however, they called it a day and the four lads from Oxford slouched off to join Oasis, the Jesus and Mary Chain, put out solo records and, in bassist Steve Queralt’s case, to take up a career in retail at Habitat. And that seemingly was that. However, in 2015 fate intervened and the Coachella Festival came calling with the offer to get back together in front of a crowd of 70,000.

“Harry's new album is F*CKING INSANE!” tweeted Father John Misty recently, setting the expectation bar very high for a collection that, sources close to the former One Direction member had indicated, would be “deeply personal” (or, at least, as deeply personal as a Grammy-winning songwriting team would allow). Then, with the release of lead single “Sign of the Times” came comparisons to Pink Floyd and David Bowie. Not an overlong Robbie Williams piano ballad sung by someone with decent range, then? No. Pink Floyd. And Bowie.

The comparisons and preposterous hyperbole seem stranger still on the realisation that, while this may not sound like a One Direction album, it certainly feels like one. As with all 1D releases, many of the tunes presented here feel thoroughly road-tested – and mainly because they have been. If there is clear blue water to be found, it's simply in the choice of previous owners.

That's not to say they're not good, however. Opener and standout track “Meet Me in the Hallway” actually warrants the Pink Floyd comparison, in as much as it’s essentially an uptempo reworking of Dark Side’s “Breathe”, with the falsetto refrain from “Sign of the Times” dropped in, presumably to give maximum return on its earworm investment.

“Carolina”, meanwhile, is Beck’s “Devil’s Haircut”, covered by Supergrass, but with the rocket removed from its arse and handed to the stylist. It sounds built-for-purpose, but bearing in mind that the purpose seems to be uncomplicated fun, that’s fine by me.

Most notably, “Sweet Creature” is practically twinned with the Beatles’ “Blackbird” – by which I mean you’re more likely to tell them apart by name than rigorous DNA analysis. However, throughout all this, Styles’ voice holds up perfectly well and lends the songs a pleasing coherence, if falling short of the identity necessary to make the collection a complete success.

The same can’t be said for the mid-album rockers “Only Angel” and “Kiwi”, which see the singer posturing rather than performing. The former features a bluesy, Stones-y riff – neatly studied, and designed to do the same sort of job, but lacking the ferocity of the source material. It’s like sending out a housecat to bring down a gazelle.

Ultimately, it’s a decent enough debut, but Styles isn’t trying to reinvent the form and comparisons to artists who did are as unhelpful to him as they are inaccurate. He’s a perfectly capable pop singer with some solid songs. When on earth did that stop being enough?

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 @jahshabby

Overleaf: Watch the video for "Sign of the Times"