It's reassuring and delightful to have a debut this excellent to cement her place.

As easy as it is to get hung up on how similar El Camino sounds compared to Brothers and even parts of Attack & Release, there are instances which set this effort apart from their past work.

Pinch & Shackleton stands as both artist's most accessible and perhaps best work.

Another excellent sort-of-post-dubstep EP from a relative unknown making use of thickly nocturnal synths with distant and obscured vocal samples.

Immediately striking on Sepalcure is the grace and fluidity with which these songs are constructed. The album's fifty-one minutes fly the hell by at a breakneck downhill pace and while these songs are infinitely busy they never find themselves reaching or crowded.

The fact that this doesn't sound like a solo project at all is a testament to the success of its expansive vision.

Make no mistake; the album isn't a failure, it's just sacrificed a little too much to be a success.

With Celestial Lineage Wolves in the Throne Room have managed to craft a seamless and moving record as well as exceed the potential they'd previously left unfulfilled.

Both Ways Open Jaws will strike you as both new sounding and classic, as both fresh and rooted in tradition. Most importantly, it will strike you as a treasure, and probably, as the best album you have heard in a long time.

This kid may not have the voice of a generation, but there's certainly a demographic he could mean the world to. Once he figures out that it's what he has to say that should guide his singles, rather than what he imagines we want to hear, there may well be a great artist in Yelawolf.

It's the kind of record best fitted for when you're unsure as to what to listen to or when you've got an autumn or winter evening to yourself.

Blouse are a promising, if yet to be fully realized, project.

That two of the five songs are covers isn't a bad thing, but it does give the impression that this record's a bit of a throwaway: there are some interesting directions pointed out by the denser arrangements, but we'll have to wait to see how they'll realise them more fully.

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.

Sure, there is not a bad tune in the bunch, but the problem is that there isn't a particularly good one here, either.

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.

These tracks are sparse but airtight, haunting but unrelentingly gorgeous, both logical successors to the stunning second half of Aerial and completely unlike anything she's done.

If you give the album the chance it deserves you will be rewarded by one of the strongest LPs you are likely to hear this year.

CAVE have clearly done their homework in terms of musical influences, but I'd love to hear them spend less time droning in their footsteps of their forebears and more time actually crafting something new.

It's not a bad effort at all, showing their ability to craft songs that are consistently solid.

Guitars jangle, piano keys ripple like they've been recorded from a jaunty saloon session while vocals harmonise and lift the spirit of everything around.

The bonus material on discs five and six of the box set (which also includes Achtung Baby's severely underrated 1993 follow-up Zooropa and two pointless discs of remixes that likely won't be of much use even to die-hards) only serve to illuminate how much had to go right for the album to be as good as it was.

[It offers] up some of the most melodramatic songs Los Campesinos! have recorded to date.

Narrative beauty and endless energy is abound, but you're going to have to play make believe to find out.

We're treated with music that demonstrates a perfect niche between pop-accessibility and zany experimentation.

With a heavier reliance on piano and this newer emphasis on these samples, it's an astounding achievement in a young career already marked by solid works.

Take Care is a record unsure of itself, certainly more focused and interesting than its predecessor, but still far from the classic Drake had hinted at.

It's a spatial and musical theme across the whole of Impossible Spaces and it's perhaps the record's most deserving triumph.

What this results in is an album that is just as frequently successful as it is frustrating.

As his catalogue continues to accumulate faster than just about every other artist out there, you can feel him growing more confident in himself and the ideas he bases his music on. Parallax can't help but feel like a win for this cause because it symbolizes growth more than out-and-out excellence.

Somehow, allowing it its true moment on the shelves has solidified the record's historical importance.

For a man on his 8th solo release now, Kurt Vile is going from strength to strength and makes classic rock palatable and catchy like the greats have before him.

Nothing about the eight tracks on Humor Risk seems spare or accidental, as the record is expertly plotted and paced, never falling in to the samey or undifferentiable trap that his previous effort drowned in.

Overall, Ceremonials leaves everyone's opinions of Florence + the Machine in stasis; if you loved or hated her before, you'll still feel the same way, if you were unsure, you'll still be unsure.

It requires an open mind to absorb so much in one single LP, but whether you're looking for sing-along choruses, meandering instrumentals or just a damn-good listen, all three boxes will surely be inked by big fat ticks by the time the disc stops spinning.

If anything, A Very She & Him Christmas can feel like a wet blanket at times, like a party that just can't get off the ground.

We have this perfectly pleasant and assuming piece of synth pop, neighing through a vocoder with the dying breath of the shamelessly beaten horse of retro-futurism.

The whole thing comes off as either an expensive major label joke or nigh-impenetrable high art concept. Maybe both.

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.

Tarot Classics isn't remarkable, but it reminds you just how good Surfer Blood are when it comes to songwriting, just how much fun it is to listen to this band, even if they're getting a tad gloomier.

So, for now we're left with another Noel Gallagher album that continues in the same trend of most of Oasis' output, trying to be something greater than it is. But hey, at least it's better than Beady Eye.

It may not be as game-changing or complete as †, but Audio, Video, Disco has the exact same energy, intrigue, ear for melody and air of defiance as the group's glittering debut.

Bad As Me is yet another sensational landmark on the long, well-traveled path of a man who simply refuses to age.

Mount Wittenberg Orca is uniquely and charmingly straightforward.

Ultimately, Mylo Xyloto feels like a mixed bag of ideas that never really comes together.

They need to find their identity, and they're going to have to move forward and progress even further as a group if they want to move beyond being a flavor of the month.

It promises even better material to come if he can blend the astounding songcraft from earlier efforts with the atmosphere of this album.

This is a great pop-rock album because it doesn't feel the need to be anything else.

Without striving to be as overtly melodramatic as some of her contemporaries, Murray harnesses that desperation which Portishead's Beth Gibbons manages to pull off so well but by containing and internalising it, manages to offer a refreshingly navel-gazing approach to the pysche of the modern lover.

At this point, it's hard to know what to let go and what to hold onto as a listener of M83, but regardless, Hurry Up, We're Dreaming is a pretty fantastic record.

Its biggest problem is that, from start of finish, it feels strangely reserved.

Ryan Adams has delivered the goods right now and he appears to be more focused and in a better creative space than he has at any other point in his career.

Biophilia is Björk, the sum total, and this album is her continued claim to the throne as the monarch of avant-pop.

Pretty, moody, and even transcendently beautiful in places, Breakers' small-scale take on dream pop is a tempestuous and emotionally unhinged listen.

This is an artist that certainly knows how to kick it in, but you spend most of your time waiting for it.

Yeah, sometimes you can't even hear the lyrics, and when you do they don't make sense (although that's improving by album). But the music is endearing, and most of the time spectacular and that's a great feature to have in any rock band.

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.

It's a beautiful EP deserving of repeat listening.

Though the rest of the EP features both highs (the delightful "Bug," which sounds like it could be the prototype for which Williams bases all of his best material) and lows (the Weezer b-side material of "Poor Lenore"), the overall affect of Life Sux feels innocuous; an effort that will neither convert detractors or drive-away die hards.

Although this may be a relative disappointment it should not be looked at as the start of a decline, but merely a curiosity in the collection.

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.

We got an album entirely thrown on the shoulders of the cub, and like a growing king, J. Cole actually pulled it off, but scope, cohesiveness, and focus couldn't help but become somewhat lost in the disarray.

It's dark but inspirational, catchy but never kitschy. Most of all though, it's honest.

The record is at its best when it combines its pop sensibilities with its ambient leanings.

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.

Here he has never sounded more confident and purposeful, building layered and incredibly rich compositions out of his blissful loops that more than justify the length they inhabit.

One of those rare, near-flawless works of art that only grows finer with age.

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.

It's a lovely, weightless set of songs from an artist whom we can now reasonably assume is capable of producing consistently great music.

They're not reinventing the wheel, hell they're barely even reinventing themselves, but that's a good thing on this occasion, as they've created an album that will appeal to fans both new and old.

While The Year of Hibernation doesn't rocket into the stratosphere so much, it's still an exemplary debut.

The band has only strengthened their propensity for catchy, melodic pop hooks, and they come one after the other like a best-of Lite-FM programming block.

The record too often seems unsure of itself, the band uncertain of their ability to make this style of music conform to their rules rather than vice versa--a shame considering how talented Craig and Drennan are when it comes to melody and song.

For every fault that Neighborhoods has--and it has quite a few--the album is infectious and catchy.

Album pacing, songcraft and the all-important killer chorus--all of these aspects have been considerably improved on since last time out.

The songs are mostly good enough to sustain interest through multiple listens.

Dum Dum Girls always know exactly who they are, play on their own strengths, and leave the audience fully satisfied and happy to come back for more. Simplicity rarely sounds this good.

Even if it isn't quite as organically endearing as their past work, Dracula successfully retains the same sensational personality that's made them such a must-hear act.

The Whole Love is a solid return for Wilco, and hopefully them pushing their sound in more new directions as they have done here, particularly on the first and last tracks.

Heavy, lyrically well-tread and packing a mean proto-motorik groove, from start to finish it has an automotive heartbeat with both eyes on the horizon. It is the sound of Wooden Shjips finally bringing it on home.

While a more harder-edged and rougher sound certainly could have upped the ante a bit and helped the songwriting talents of Brian Fallon reach a wider audience that would most likely have required an entirely new band, and this is after all "only" a side-project--but it's a very fine one, worthy of attention from both newcomers and already converted.

An Argument With Myself is nothing short of spectacular at any length, crowning Lekman as one of today's most fascinating and gifted musicians.

With their influences in the right musical zone, we could be hearing some great things from Jacuzzi Boys in the future. Sadly, this release proves that they're not quite there yet.

Garden Of Arms is a disappointment, but by no means a failure; next time Peter Wolf Crier need to not only focus on how to make interesting-sounding songs, but how best to execute them too.

With Creature Marling has delivered something that has her own personal sound throughout, but still manages to explore both lighter and darker territory.

The dead air that seemed to sometimes crop up previously has been filled or chopped out completely, creating a record with taut and purposeful momentum.

So while it displays a more mature and focused sound for The Drums, the album eventually crumbles beneath the weight of its influential stilts.

By itself, Mountaintops is a big, dry album that doesn't move you anywhere.

Era Extraña does not flow as smoothly as Psychic Chasms but the influences are in all the right places and it seems that Alan Palomo is wearing them proudly on his sleeve.

The eclectic Portland, Oregon based quintet's 6th studio album is a return to form following last year's Destroyer of the Void, which, despite showcasing Blitzen Trapper's refined instrumental chops, came off as flat, derivative, and fatally overproduced.

Strange Mercy is the lonely next door neighbour who could be just as popular if only you took the time to get to know her. Instead she is left to turn introspectively, which might not produce quite so brilliantly chromatic stories, but they can be just as – if not more – compelling.

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.

Although Dreams Come True is prone to fading into the background at points, part of the beauty is the understated nature CANT upholds.

What can I say? It's just a really f*cking good rock album.

The Rapture show that they are as worthy of pupils as they have been for the last decade as teachers. But, unfortunately, they still have a lot to learn.

There's a simultaneous show-of-hand that somehow compliments that emotional weight rather than hinders it. It's that weight that gives these compositions durability, and considering how naked Acab leaves his samples, some staggering life. All said, it's really the bottom line here.

Think of Endless Now as a sturdy yet slightly uncertain move forward, but a step in the right direction nonetheless.

They deserve every bit of success this album brings them, simply because A Different Kind of Fix is one of the most accomplished albums of the year.