How big, how bland, how bloody loud. Florence ‘why-sing-when-you-can-bellow’ Welch continues to ply her trade with all the subtlety of a technicolour foghorn on album number three. No change to previous releases’ formula of stompy, angsty, indie pop (although there’s a bit of brass thrown in here for good measure) and no change either to Flo & Co’s tendency to beat you round the head with every song. A fan pleaser and no more.

Out now.