Though lacking in musical revelations, there are more than a few moments on the album that highlight her sharp instincts as a songwriter. There is a catharsis to Someone New that’s palpable, and if Deland harnesses that going forward, things can only get brighter from here.

Barbarism is much further from the sound of a Priests record than expected, and it’s further proof that the Greer isn’t interested in repeating the past over and over again.

Oceania isn't a great record, but it's a strong enough one, filled with songs that sound like the Smashing Pumpkins you remember.

Mindlessly hummable and pure of vision, Howlin’ sounds just as good coming from your headphones as it does from Marshall stacks.

The album takes a while to get going and figure out what it wants to do, but diving into Thee Oh Sees' world reveals one of their better efforts yet.

For a collection of semi-throwback electronica, the first half of the album feels very accomplished and prêt-à-porter. It works: the AI doesn’t get in the way, the tempo remains fairly steady, and its minimalist nature makes for a very tight package. “Over Now” starts the second half as a reminder that this is Caribou and unfortunately lets the air out.

It's an enjoyable album, and the playing is astoundingly good.

As commendable as their attempts at exploring different genre’s are, Fol Chen do sound their best at their poppy moments.

Nobody Lives Here Anymore is a respectable and melodious work of sincere and warm country-pop.

Indeed, Ancient Romans is a mostly good record that ends on a terrific high note; here's to hoping that Sun Araw can maintain this momentum on the future, instead of falling back on the reliable old drones he's offered us so many times in the past.

When Woman On the Internet isn’t fun, bold, or thoughtful (or all three at once in some parts), it’s reflective.

The whole is not as majestic as its parts, including the often very evocative lyrics. But on the record there is little left of those initial spiritual ideas itself, and the creative drive of the opening salvo won’t carry onto the second half. And that is a shame, as the album’s individual highs suggest greatness.

It isn’t as impactful as Isolation, but there are plenty of moments on this record where Kali shows great potential that she may yet make that truly fantastic Spanglish R&B album.

Normani stays one to watch, and for now her fans have some very solid material to enjoy until she decides to come back.

Barnes has definitely taken a step in right direction.

All in all, Crawler is a return to form for IDLES, albeit with a handful of sub-par offerings. There’s still more than enough here for them to be rabble-rousing festival headliners, but also some tracks that offer up new ideas that they could carry forward.

What starts out as a great Woods record unfortunately peters out towards the end. Regardless, Woods have assembled a worthy “comeback” album of sorts, one that highlights all of their best moments, and even some of their more forgettable ideas.

This music is fast and hard, but there are fewer risks than it might at first seem. Those hoping for the band to push themselves in a new direction are going to be slightly disappointed, while those who have vibed with this collective since day one will likely appreciate ULTRAPOP for what it is – another album by The Armed.

Fans will be glad to accept this triplet and know that the creation of this style of music in his plans.

Javelin’s sound has in fact undergone distilled changes, but the result is still a fun album that once again brings up the question of what could be next for the duo.

Overall, their 2010 self-titled CD remains the best starting point for new listeners, but Occupied With The Unspoken nonetheless makes for a fine addition to the Thrill Jockey catalog.

There's no filler, no fat to be trimmed, simply four solid pop songs and a brief instrumental introduction tied together in a neat fashion.

Even if Texis fails to reposition Sleigh Bells as a noise act to be reckoned with, it does succeed in giving us a glimpse into what could have been if the duo had stayed the course. It may be a few years late, but it’s the best the band have sounded in quite some time, and it’s nice to have Sleigh Bells back where they belong.

The album shows Danilova making a conscious and admirable effort to try take another step in the right direction and for the most part it's hard to fault her.

For 11 songs and 39 minutes, Tweedy creates a landscape of autumnal beauty and warm layers of guitars, which oscillate between experimental, almost distorted ambience and clear, saccharine folk melodies. There’s a few straight country tracks here, but for the most part, it’s minimalist genre-revisionism.

They’re still capable of brilliance (particularly on the opening and closing tracks), but too much of Mosquito is bogged down by tongue-in-cheek frivolity.

The be all and end all for In The Pit Of The Stomach is that, despite a few new experiments, it's like all their material: good music that you don't have to think about.

The version the band have made is still a solid, if not rather good, Kaiser Chiefs album. [Review of UK release The Future Is Medieval]

Blush is, in its gentle and pleasant way, a strong debut collection of country and folk songs.

Intriguingly, in a game where we’re consistently told that remaining hungry is a necessity, the most enjoyable moments of King’s Disease II come when Nas is simply stating his satisfaction.

So while the stylistic homogeneity erodes its high points, and it sometimes feels like one giant song, Within and Without harbours some rich, emotive sounds under its monochrome canopy.

At times, Malone’s “magic eye” seems elusive. Other times, it comes gloriously into focus, shimmering like an elegant mirage.

Though album’s influences go as far back as Marvin Gaye’s “I Want You” (“Deeper”), the overall tone is suitably compressed and claustrophobic. The taut paranoia and confusion that belied Prince & The Revolution’s 1999 and Purple Rain forms a touchstone, modernised when the tenor shifts to Rhye.

Allen’s songwriting is the sole thing that needs to be focused on; the impressiveness comes from the variety of sounds and the subtle details. It would be truly surprising if someone were able to use this as background music.

Most often, it delivers what you get on Departing: an enjoyable but still not entirely satisfying collection of songs that don't really work as well together as they do apart.

The thematic and musical revamping is impressive, even for a band that seems to enjoy turning itself inside out on a regular basis, but it isn't quite matched by the execution.

Past Life Regression doesn’t craft any new formulas for Papercuts, but it’s still consistent with what people have come to expect from the band.

Yes, The Ballad of Darren is Dad Rock. Fairly enjoyable Dad Rock, true, and still a record hundreds of bands can only dream of making, but one that would likely fall by the wayside if anyone else had made it. Is this bad? Not really, and if anything, it proves that Blur can transition gracefully into old age.

If V betrays decadence, it doesn’t manifest itself as sprawl or poor editing – much less a notional narrative. Its languidness is actually its charm, a direct contrast to almost anything in UMO’s fidgety catalog save “Jello And Juggernauts” from the 2011 debut.

It’s messy, it’s funny, it’s occasionally shallow, but it’s also thrilling, because it dares to treat those qualities as virtues. Carpenter knows the heartbreak is real, but the laughter is what keeps you alive long enough to sing about it.

Although not obscenely long, thirteen tracks of relatively similar-sounding music can at times grate. There are undoubtedly some excellent songs here, including the title track, that overlaps vocals nicely between the members, and the technical ability of the band is clearly one of its greatest assets.

Ternion is a greatly entertaining album with plenty of replay value, especially in those stand out tracks.

Where at their best, Gardens & Villa may recall the harmonies of Local Natives and the hazy qualities of The Walkmen, they are clearly not (yet) at the level of either of those bands.

A solid and polished record, a beautiful collection – not one to outlast time, but to chronicle its passing nature, and the melancholy released from that realisation.

The lightness of touch and tone on The Power of Rocks imbues it all with an easy energy.

The album is the sound of Penelope pushing back, deciding that the closing of motherhood is not the end of her life. She’s confident and resolute in spirit and vision. It’s art defined by ageing and it’s all the more powerful for it.

It’s a little loose, a little shaggy, and sometimes simply unimaginative or rote, but it also provides an intriguing glimpse into the archives of one our most beguiling artists.

This amorphousness was probably part of the intent, with Smith focusing on transformation; how anything in life can be moulded and re-shaped with a bit of determined focus. It’s a compelling idea, which shows itself in many marvellous flashes across The Mosaic of Transformation, but sometimes you wish it would just hold in place and let you admire and appreciate these moments for just a touch longer.

Brooks' explorations of these spaces between childhood whimsy and a vague, threatening sense of looming danger are always worthwhile excursions, and his latest album is no exception.

There is still plenty to cherish here, and no Ryan Adams devotee is going to feel disappointed. In reality, this is likely just another detour in the ever evolving and confusing career of Ryan Adams.

Sink into Me is possibly superior song-wise to Home for Now and at least equally cogent in terms of vocal performances. Going forward, however, Babeheaven might consider combining the matured skills of their latest work with the less self-conscious and more rangy aesthetic inherent to Home for Now.

This record does indeed feel like a natural continuation of Sadier's previous body of work.

For most of Valhalla Dancehall, the diversity in sound works to British Sea Power's advantage, but it also leaves the album feeling weirdly unsatisfying.

Pretty much every song on When You See Yourself manages to convey what the past few Kings of Leon albums missed. This is an at times muscular, at other times breezy collection of songs, recorded with care, removing bombast and occasionally returning to the rough live sound of their early days.

It’s sometimes refreshing to hear them lean into their minimalist instincts a little more this time around, but often there’s just a bit of weight missing from the bones.

The Mother Stone is a stroke of real promise. With its harrowing peaks of dramatized catharsis and musical excursions that recall rock greats – yet look deep into a dark and obscure abyss – Jones’ record keeps audiences at the edges of their seats. If he can be reeled in to gather his thoughts more concisely, the sky is the limit.

Panda Bear has enough talent to make one of his less-than-monumental works worth a listen. And although Sonic Boom sometimes overstuffs the record with unnecessary sounds, his chemistry with Panda Bear is natural. Perhaps next time they’ll leave the toy in the box, though.

They’re still just about playing the game the same way, but with Hologram the trio sounds a bit more chipper than usual, which adds some flair that was noticeably absent for most of their 2010s output.

sketchy. may not be their out-and-out best work, but it’s proof that they still have the guts and the songwriting ability — as well as their ever-present, obvious earnestness and candor — to do what endeared their work to so many in the first place.

Trust Now doesn't have the earnestness or perhaps shear quality of songwriting as Shadow Temple, and it feels a bit homogenized where its predecessor felt cohesive.

Tilt is the music they are dragging you onto the dancefloor for, and with most of these songs playing over the speakers, you’ll happily join them.

Tilt is the music they are dragging you onto the dancefloor for, and with most of these songs playing over the speakers, you’ll happily join them.

Overall, it seems that Motorists are the most compelling when infusing elements of krautrock and motorik into their work.

This new collection is most certainly not a pinnacle for the group, but it is a welcome rekindling of the same spirit and sonic magnitude that fueled their last undisputed gem, 2005′s Frances the Mute.

Any who listen to this record will enjoy it, there’s no reason not to. However, with more run time than ideas, the album runs the risk of having both too much and not enough to make listeners keep coming back.

Remember, Girls are only on their second full-length album and certain missteps should be expected. What we do know is that an album that misses the mark for Girls is far better than the majority of music we come across on a daily basis, and that Father, Son, Holy Ghost is, above all, a fascinating listen.

Saab Stories is the least appealing of those [albums], but that has less to do with the rapper and more to do with the production which doesn’t allow this extra-large personality to conflate alongside it. Action Bronson is a big man; he just needs room to breathe.

It’s at a crossroads between being many things: a moving resurrection; an impressive display of a talent we didn’t think we’d hear again; a slightly shambolic jam sesh; and more. Its coconspirator too often wears her sincere giddy passion for Mitchell on her sleeve (she may as well say “it came true” at some point), but it’s surely at least in good faith.

These songs don’t posture or peak dramatically; they sit, brood, and occasionally spiral.

The group who has created a sense of hype surrounding their sound did not deliver in comparison to past material that was praised so fondly for their vintage synth-pop sound.

Talent, when taken as a whole unit, functions exceedingly well as an album to scratch your daily dream pop itch, but when you try to take it as anything more than that it suffers.

VOID is a twisting chimera of a record as it skips through post-metal on “I Cannot”, to post-rock on “Not Today, Old Friend”, to math rock on “We’re Small Enough”, while never once feeling like anything other than a KEN mode record.

Blunderbuss is a quiet album that that doesn't yearn, instead unfolding slowly, from an artist known for his stark music and desperately longing lyrics.

This is obviously a band that, on some level, is trying to switch things up. But for next time, instead of testing the water, Explosions need to take the plunge.

At best, this sophomore project suggests a band pushing itself in every direction and through every crevice of the genre to see what fits them and their messaging most effectively.

Like last year's A Frightened Rabbit EP, State Hospital lacks some coherency in style, but its brevity makes this less of a problem.

Blessed with an old-fashioned FM radio charm, Here is a worthy follow-up.

Thematic speculation aside Green has managed, more simply to write a compelling collection of guitar pop songs.

It's comfortably K.R.I.T., neither venturing beyond the most basic facets of his developing sound, nor sinking below the standard he's set.

Despite the clear motives with the themes in the album, the instrumentation fluctuates in a chaotic manner that makes it very confusing to listen to at times.

As a package on its own, Air's Le voyage dans la lune doesn't hit especially hard, but when paired with the historic film, they become a dreamy, fulfilling piece of entertainment and mystery.

For better or worse, Chemtrails Over The Country Club is 100% a Lana Del Rey record that fits quaintly into her discography. Anyone following her up to this point shouldn’t bat an eye at how sharp of a left turn this is compared to her previous album. She’s absurdly contrived, but the allure is far too captivating to look away.

All in all, Two-Way Mirror is a good but flawed album, with plenty of things to excite, but a few things that can disappoint.

The People's Key just doesn't have the emotional pull that others do.

While his latest effort is leaner and lighter than Cataclysm, it doesn’t recapture the essence of Ratchet, which may disappoint some despite the artist’s clear intention to change things up. But for those looking for a breezy indie rock record with Prince-vibes, Shamir delivers.

There are so many acts both past and present who sound exactly like this; there are moments scattered throughout Somewhere that feel a little derivative of some 90s alternative acts. So, while Somewhere is a good start, there’s a lot more to accomplish for Gum Country before they can really set themselves apart from The Courtneys – or other bands.

Bankrupt! suffers because it feels a little detached at times, like you can’t really tell where the band are in the big picture.

They've ironed out their eccentricities, and produced their silkiest and least combative record in the process.

With much of the flash stripped aways from him, Craig Finn proves that he is a formidable songwriter first and foremost, and here we find him sitting on a stool and playing songs at his most comfortable.

This new release does function better as a cohesive work, but oddly enough they seem to have restricted their musical vocabulary even further.

There’s a lot here for 42 minutes and as a whole the album can be exhausting – but that feels very much like a deliberate outcome.

Tana Talk 4 shows Benny the Butcher’s improving his rhymes, but doesn’t offer any more profound insight into the man behind the microphone – even as we return to where it all started.

Even if it’s a bit much at times, Even in Exile could well be the best record Bradfield has lent his voice to since 2009’s Journal for Plague Lovers; it’s not a classic, but a very strong, autumnal call to arms.

Jace Lasek does an admirable job with the production, channelling a more nocturnal version of his own band's widescreen grandeur, whilst Suuns themselves evince a knack for memorable melodies without really producing anything in the way of actual hooks.

Knocking out fun little songs at home with old friends is all well and good, but it isn't hard to imagine a little more effort and sincerity resulting in something a bit more enduring.

They’re wisps and fragments that might leave you feeling nostalgic for the nostalgia that marked Payseur’s past. If only the messages contained within the songs rang as true as the guitars.

This is a record which feels familiar and safely experimental, while Williams reveals more of herself than ever before. Just exactly who that is isn’t yet certain, and where she’ll go from here is anyone’s guess, but it’s sure to be interesting.

The production by Yves and Lawrence Rothman wisely attunes to the 80s influences and sonic similarities, but it doesn’t force the band to live there. The recording exudes modernity with retro touches – not the other way around.