Grand Archives is still an impressively modern take on American indie; taking the best from Southern Indie rock and tossing over some modern effects and innovative musicianship to create a genuinely genre bending project.

Musically, it’s far and away ahead of most hip-hop artists, and lyrically, it’s a clever approach that goes beyond the heart-on-your-sleeve indie-rock lyricsheet.

It is a well-written, solid debut that should at least establish the band a fanbase and give them time to work out some of the imperfections.

Whilst Still could certainly have benefitted from a greater cache of stronger songs (a couple of which could have been swapped-in from the largely electric self-produced Variations EP that comes with early CD editions), as a combined entity it holds together convincingly as an amiable summary of what latter-day Richard Thompson is all about.

Otto Spooky is an excellent album, yet sometimes too long for my attention span.

Demolished Thoughts, for what it is - a collection of evocative but slow-moving songs - makes its mark through the repeated exploration of a theme.

Ultimately, Hold Time could have undoubtedly benefitted from some more stringent self-editing, not-so top-heavy sequencing and greater deliberations over the guest list, to make it stand-up as tall as its more meticulously-framed predecessors. Nevertheless, this is still another reliably robust M Ward record with much to recommend itself, especially to the previously-converted.

It's not so much "old sad bastard music," as Barry described it--more like charmingly puerile lullabies.

The Wave Pictures are a band sufficiently self-confident to take enough risks to keep themselves interested but without distancing themselves from their extant character, which Great Big Flamingo Burning Moon reveals is a durable and entertaining combination for the most part, even if a tad more lubrication would have helped to soften-up some of its drier corners.

There's a nagging feeling that Life Coach is a sketchbook instead of an art exhibit, and feels a little insubstantial at times. The album hits more than it misses, though, and makes up for the fact that it doesn't really have too much new to say by trading in an impressive range of styles while managing a moody cohesiveness.

Taken as a whole package though, R.E.M. Live is a flawed but respectable enough addition to the canon of three men who can still conjure up a bit of magic, albeit in spite of themselves.

What Romanian Names lacks in difficulty and depth, it makes up for in restrained creativity and faint tenacity. Though his aim fell short, it goes without saying that even at his moderate average; he’s miles ahead of most of the solo artists attempting to make music.

The songs that are good are amazing, but the songs that aren’t quite as good could end up being skipped over, which is a shame, seeing as how there isn’t a bad song, per se, on the album.

Unfortunately, Haughty Melodic, in its attempt to gain a wider audience, does have some clunkers.

A strong debut.

RYAT takes her technique a step further on album #2, diversifying her sound to include symphonic strings and other instrumentation. She also delves deeper into a more expressive, sometimes vulnerable, vocal delivery, getting to the root of her emotions and letting them take seed in song.

The album never challenges the conventions of a political punk rock record. Because so many political punk rock records have come and gone, Anti-Flag missed another opportunity to at least make The People or the Gun a little more compelling than its army of predecessors.

The lack of truly classic Calexico moments marks the album as a transitory step: too far for some, not enough for others.

Though Eye Contact represents another exhilarating turn from one of modern music's most enterprising groups, many people will likely be turned off by the sound of Bougatsos' helium shriek; that voice may be initially challenging to the ears, but those who arrive with the awareness that this isn't exactly the stuff of sing-along melodies, honeyed vocals, and verse/chorus/verse gratification will be pleased they stuck around.

A transitional yet still solid standalone long-player in short.

So whilst The Obliterati is certainly not a patch on the seminal Vs. - given that it lacks the same magical combination of cerebral claustrophobia and kinetic psychosis - it’s easily more potent than the over-oiled ONoffON.

This album is both immediately gratifying and deceptively interesting.

Somewhat predictably there are a few misfires--like the distracting “A Swamp Dog’s Tale” (featuring spoken word rambling from guest Lincoln Barrett) and the detuned-skanking instrumental “Dance Of Dirty Leftovers”--but overall the quality control is commendably high for a band still so young. The potential for something even more finessed--though no less barbed--next time around is clearly apparent. Until then though, this eponymous entrée is a stealthily impressive long-form introduction.

There are a few moments of weakness on Keep on Your Mean Side - most notably where V.V. and Hotel get a little too repetitive or too simplistic for their own good – but it's easy to move past these minor instances without it detracting from the album too much.

Sing Along To Songs You Don’t Know is another fine example of how múm is evolving and continually expanding on their already diverse musical pallette.

Despite the extremely strong sonic points, most of the album falls short in the songwriting department.

Much like Slint, Mandarin’s sound is often infused with an eerie coldness that seems to melt when the songs begin to grow exponentially in texture.

While Nocturnes doesn’t have the immediate impact or supremely sticky quality of Little Boots’, AKA Victoria Hesketh’s, high-caliber dance-pop debut, Hands, it does display a slow-growing (Or is that glowing?) charm that rings true to the album’s muted title.