I wanted to love this album desperately. I'd heard such incredible things about it around Musicbanter, and from valued friends. I'd heard that this was album of the year. I'd heard people wistfully saying that they wished they had written this album themselves. It's hard not to get excited about something so favorably received, but I've found that it's a bandwagon I'm inclined to wave at as it passes by.

I have no doubt as to the obvious vocal talents of James Blake, I merely find the songwriting on his eponymous debut unworthy of the hype he has received for it. I was strongly reminded of an electronic version of Bon Iver's For Emma, Forever Ago, and I am undecided as to whether or not there is a place for another such album with me.

I have nonetheless promised to give James Blake the benefit of the doubt, and allow his album a bit of time to settle into the current of my listening. It seems to be an album that provokes dubious initial responses, and I will be the first to admit that my judgment can be flawed.

Typically, a lot of hype makes me put an album off for ages, but when this one friend tells me something is great, I jump on it, because his recommendations are always quality.

Sometimes I can see myself growing older in the music I listen to. The turning points of my adulthood can be mapped; albums in place of cities as I move from one location to the next. I find myself returning to artists who were incomprehensible to me at sixteen. It's much the same as realizing you've grown up when you prefer the cookie to the icing, or would rather fight over the bottom bunk.

Of Montreal is one such artist I had wrinkled my nose at in the past, as a child would snub leafy greens at dinner. I found Kevin Barnes obnoxious and yelpy, and granted, these qualities remain in his music, but I myself have developed an appreciation for context, and humour in music.

Hissing Fauna, Are You the Destroyer(?) is an album of frenetic pop, chronicling Kevin Barnes' descent into depression following a separation from his wife and a sabbatical to Sweden. The album juxtaposes feel-good psychedelic pop with dark, often dryly funny lyrics about depression and medication.

Musically, Hissing Fauna is a pop triumph, with heavy emphasis on melody, memorable funky basslines, and thickly layered Berlin-era-Bowie harmonies. The album peaks with The Past is a Grotesque Animal, detailing with spastic intensity Barnes' separation madness and subsequent transformation into transgendered alter-ego Georgie Fruit, a character so comical and perturbed it presumably served as a great emotional outlet for Barnes. If only we could all channel our negativity into such deeply troubled characters; the world would be a much more creative and disturbing place.

Hissing Fauna parallels in many ways the last year of my life, and my own (less flamboyant) transformation, which is perhaps why I feel so much respect for it. I too spent the better part of a year plagued by chemical imbalances, proceeded by an unpleasant separation, after which I fled to England to find refuge and recovery, wherein I have discovered my own, less outlandish alter-ego. Hissing Fauna has been a large and relevant part of this process in self-rediscovery.

It would be easy to examine Barnes' synth-riddled songs and goofy observations and chalk Hissing Fauna up to garish drivel as I once did, but I feel it takes a great deal more maturity to laugh and make light of one's own severe depression than it does to simply bury it. Kevin Barnes' display of ironic poise is something we could all learn from.

The longer I sit on this review, the more daunting it becomes. It has nothing to do with doing the album justice, but I find that the longer I consider it, the fewer words I have to say about it. The King of Limbs does not inspire my words. This is very telling of the quality, given that Radiohead is an artist I have admired for years, who have written some of my favourite releases.

The announcement of the King of Limbs went off like the greatest surprise party, where it was the birthday of every Radiohead fan. It was a surprise we all suspected we may receive, like a new car on our sweet sixteenth, but our excitement could not be dispelled. The King of Limbs was the most anticipated release of 2011 across the board. Expectations are this album's downfall, but who can blame them when an artist has an exemplary track record? There is insurmountable pressure when your band's name is synonymous with great things in music.

What I didn't expect from this album was for it to be exactly what one would expect to follow In Rainbows and the dubstep scene. The King of Limbs is a perfectly reasonable progression for Radiohead, and as such, it's sinfully boring. Limbs is rhythmic and fleeting; cobbled together into two distinct portions and seemingly void of substance. I have found it necessary to insert the two post-release singles (Supercollider and The Butcher) into the tracklisting to add balance and weight, to minor improvement.

I am caught, undecided as to whether Limbs would be considered an achievement, or forgettable if anyone else had written it. This isn't to call it terrible, it has its own merits for being casual and beat-driven, but little is memorable, and unlike every other Radiohead release, it can't be said that some of the band's best work is upon it. It is simply too subtle, too common for a band of this caliber.