It's great, don't be mistaken; but trim a little of its fat and it goes from a fantastic listen to an unforgettable one.

It's not easy to inject humour into songwriting but Merritt does it seamlessly, peppering sweetly sung melodies with just the right amount of acerbic lines--the cynical and the sentimental balanced beautifully.

It might only be February, but you wouldn't look foolish calling this one of the albums of the year.

Overall, Black Radio surpasses the excellence of Double Booked, which is a brilliant album in its own right.

There's artful variety; the band may have a particular approach, but they're no purists.

The lack of standout hits here is disappointing, but All of Me's Achilles heel is its conversational interludes.

As a standalone listen this is an interesting development of the stylistic restlessness that's driven Rose's progress so far.

It's another Hukkelberg album to treasure.

By getting back to basics and running on their instincts it would seem as if Australia's finest threesome have rediscovered just what it is that makes them great.

She's full of vim and vigour, mixing tender character studies with doe-eyed love songs and impassioned protest pieces.

Ozanne has here delivered one of the most perfect after-party collections in recent memory.

Unconvincing and overbearing, it's like being ambushed by the cast of a Broadway rock musical.

Always is one of Stewart's most accessible albums.

Rooms Filled With Light never dips beneath beguiling. Most of the time it's really quite grand.

Bones is a fiery yet melodious modern rock album made by a band who may come to regret their name should they survive to become old hands.

Felt is a transportative album, a balm for troubled minds.

This is a full-on, joyous, positive album that makes you feel like celebrating.

There's much substance with the employment of piano, organ, synthesiser, guitar and horn solos, but the actual song structures and vocal performances don't share this same level of achievement.

Second album Waking Up is a set of polished arrangements so middle of the road they make Snow Patrol sound like Animal Collective.

Yeah, Gregory Porter is the real deal.

It's fun, but not a lot to show for four years work.

A staggeringly beautiful success.

If there is an overall mood, imagine a slightly sozzled, mischievous Leonard Cohen on the front porch having discovered the joys of country music.

With its harder edge, its hindsight-laden sense of imminent loss and its sheer dirtiness, L.A. Woman comprises a brilliant bridge between the floral madness of the 1960s and the tougher decade to come.

Exists in a bleakly beautiful twilight zone of Hadreas' own making.

True Loves delivers on the fantastic promise of its title-track, comprising a commendable listen for those demanding defined individuality from their chosen songsmiths.

So sublime are these ten spectral soundtracks to the minutiae of a modern lover's tribulations that their sorrow is translated into something more uplifting than unsettling.

Baloji is interested in an involved fusion that is at once nostalgic and innovative, quickly establishing its own musical identity.