First up were Bloc Party who delivered their second LP last month; early April will see the release of Maximo Park's sophomore effort, and this week The Rakes return with their follow up to Capture/Release.
Produced by Jim Abbiss (it seems that everyone has given Epworth a wide berth this time around), Ten New Messages is a more rounded and cohesive affair than its predecessor but in adding studio sheen the band seem to have lost a lot of the hooks and energy that made the first album such an exciting prospect.
The World Was a Mess but His Hair Was Perfect opens the record and leaves absolutely no impact.
Previously a quarter of an hour long and used as the soundtrack to a Christian Dior fashion show, one can only presume that the exciting bits might have happened after the five minutes that were allowed onto the album.
Despite the false start, things start to look up for the next few tracks: Little Superstitions takes a couple of minutes to warm itself up but ends with Alan Donohoe sounding like Ian McCulloch fronting The Strokes (a good thing, if you were unsure), while We Danced Together and Trouble are catchy and danceable enough to stand out as the obvious single choices.
Sadly, by this point the album has already reached its peak and from here it all takes a bit of a dive.
Suspicious Eyes could have been a savvy look at post 7/7 paranoia from various points of view but the delivery is clumsy and comes across as far too contrived.
The cameo from rapper Rax adds to the cringe factor, coming only slightly lower than KRS-One's turn on REM's Radio Song in the 'Top 10 ill-advised rap breakdowns in indie tunes' chart.
On a Mission is the sound of a band on autopilot and When Tom Cruise Cries is brilliantly titled but far from brilliant, shuffling in with its hands in its pockets before shuffling out a passionless five minutes later.
Without a pure pop nugget like 22 Grand Job to rescue it, this album feels like a wasted opportunity, destined only to send people rushing back to the debut to remember when The Rakes were lively pub poets with a sense of urgency about them.
Sadly, of these 'ten new messages', at least seven are worth deleting from your inbox immediately.