This is pure sonic poetry, a titillating psychological adventure that takes patience and perseverance to appreciate. Let this album wipe away your memory for a bit. Indulge.

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 Just Give In / Never Going Home benefited from a nuanced lyrical approach, any sense of Hazel English’s musical tentativeness is completely gone on Wake UP!.

She’s carrying the weight of her experiences on her shoulders, but that’s not stopping her from enjoying the thrill of a new crush. She’s confident enough in herself to make the most of this, and every, moment.

Elements of Light ultimately feels like a stop off between Black Noise and whatever Pantha Du Prince has waiting on the horizon.

With Lines, Lynch has managed to trudge on ever closer to the boundary separating the two worlds that he calls home, though at least for now he’s decidedly, satisfyingly settled on the side of the outré.

Their order within the EP works together to create a new mood, and the listener easily comprehends why Copycat Killer is worth attention after having experienced Punisher. These new versions are not worlds apart from the originals, but the value is in the very small things such as subtle melody changes and different track ordering – working beautifully with Moose’s orchestral talents.

These 12 songs are denser in their instrumentation and production than Hatchie’s previous work. ... Regardless, the album is still imbued with Pilbeam’s established touches of enchantment and sensitivity.

Instrumentally the record feels like a flash in the pan; the first few bites are crunchy and moreish, but it does become a little dry after a while. At times this doesn’t matter because the lyrics hold you, but then again that’s like having half a slice of pizza; good, but not quite satiating.

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.

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.

Though Ventriloquizzing doesn't demonstrate the best the quartet have to offer, it's a perfect overview of their different sides, and proof that they remain one of our most consistently entertaining bands.

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

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.

By draining the grunge and punk influences from their sound and then over-producing every single song, Lucero have effectively become every Southern rock, blues-inspired bar band you've ever heard.

It's pleasant, unsurprisingly enough, in both its sonic direction and minimal production, but it lacks the sense of overwhelming purpose usually found on both artists' solo records.

It sounds reaching, like the band is lost and looking desperately for an audience and a voice. I hope they start looking somewhere else.

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.

While the fury remains, there a perceptible dip in quality in nearly every aspect of the Thermals’ formula.

So much talk of tempo and expectation must not overshadow the greatest triumph that 4 has to offer: progression.

It’s a profoundly empathetic collection of songs that offers both gentle reminders and harsh overtures as to the effort it takes to sustain healthy mental and physical spaces in your life. Woods has given us unparalleled access to see how she responds to the things that have kept her up at night and to those things which evoke happiness in her world.

The Russian Wilds is hardly going to shock you to the core, but it's a more than able record by one of the most consistently strong groups in its genre.

You can’t help but admire their ambition, but their tendency to overreach is inhibiting them from becoming the band they want and deserve to be.

Although working your way through the album can feel like trudging through the shit-stinking mud in the tunnels beneath the streets, there are glimpses of lights that break though from the surface, like manhole covers left exposed.

Still does try new things, as it finds her working with new people while simultaneously showing more of herself. Sensational yielded a remix album, but Still is de Casier’s first album with features, and the artists appearing here do a good job fitting themselves into the mold of her musical world.

There's No Leaving Now is one of the best albums of the year.

ATUM is the most controversial and strangest of all Smashing Pumpkins albums: a record that defies expectations but often disappoints in how prosaic and calculated it is.

FIDLAR are still young, and they sing about what they know; never on the album do you feel like they’re presenting themselves as anything other than what they are, and this is why the album is enjoyable despite its repetition and simplicity.