Other than final track ‘A Certain Spirit’, the clearest crossover of irked techno and David Byrne-d, samba deconstruction, the melting pot (remember those aforementioned ingredients) that has gestated for five years ends up being served cold as gazpacho.

A record everyone with half an experimental ear should experience, even if they run from it, screaming.

It’s a beautifully sunny, unashamedly melodic tour de force which pitches up somewhere between a fevered Beatles obsession and a well-loved pile of Go-Betweens records.

A truly stylish but somewhat overly long affair.

These sounds are heavier and Miller flows naturally in this element.

This is West’s most polarizing record to date, yet the discussion surrounding it gives a healthy charge to a rap game saturated with the same ol’ same ol’. So no, Yeezus isn’t a great record, but it doesn’t have to be.

While he’ll probably never eclipse the flaming star that is label boss FlyLo’s reputation, Bruner here shows that he’s both his collaborator and peer, fusing a multi-genre musical mentality with a brilliantly sharp edge of accessibility.

It duly delivers, comprising a first-rate electro set rich with the imagination of songwriter Katie Stelmani.

Ice On The Dune is patchy, and shows little progression from 2008 debut, ‘Walking On A Dream’.

It’s a dispiriting affair--a mishmash of glam rock, lad rock and heavier indie rock that fails to ignite.

Kodaline illustrate all the ingredients for greatness, with many a swooning chorus to invoke a thousand festival lighters held aloft.

No two songs sound similar and, while Jonsi’s vocals confirm that this is, really, the artist on the album sleeve, it is far from more of the same.

Everything suggests that, on the strength of this set, The Land of the Brave won’t need a referendum to prove its independence.

For TNP converts this will no doubt be regarded as a masterpiece. But for the casual listener, it’s simply another solid 21st century ambient record to help while away the late hours.

Sabbath have produced a muscular, urgent sounding record that does no disservice whatsoever to those early metal masterpieces.

It’s exceptional stuff.

Sad, weird, beautiful, fiercesome; music to move and excite. [Apr 2013, p.97]

Half of contains all the crackling, happy-sad flavour of Gold Panda’s past discography, but with harsher textures than before--it’s disorientating and inquisitive, physically uprooting you from your comfort zone.

Thankfully, they’ve saved their finest ideas for Tomorrow’s Harvest, which burns as brightly as anything they have accomplished thus far

Sometimes uniformity is no bad thing at all--when you get the formula right, that is--and Guy and Howard Lawrence prove just that on their debut LP.

It bursts with techno beats that jump wildly from deep and dark to bright and euphoric.

It sees the Canadian doing what he does best--welding samples together obsessively, and wailing a lot over the top.

Still flaunting in the grunge realm, the overall result is tough, yet accessible, including some deeper moments.

False Idols comes close to vanquishing the spectre of ‘Maxinquaye’, comprising a fleshy and nasally return to form.

It’s a record that will make you smile and swoon as it burrows its way into your heart. A triumphant return.

This is wonderful stuff, haunting neo-folk ballads of a gold standard with undulating saw synths punctuating throughout.

It is a bewitching, beautiful album, with no two songs alike.

Despite the density of the music, Obsidian is a wholly immersive experience, setting Baths back on course.