If a little more time been spent focusing on the increased R&B influence, Tranquilizers could've been the rejuvenation chillwave deserves.

The band has honourable aims with its vocal intent and concept, but fails to inspire with its content, nor deliver on its promises.

The music is a little too polished-sounding to have ever seen actual garages, and there doesn't seem to be much of the charm of, say, contemporaries Palma Violets, pervading any of the record's twelve tracks. But it's fun, and fun is sometimes just about enough.

Too True is a decent enough album and one which ends more strongly than it begins. But it isn't as good as 'Only In Dreams' and because of that, it can't help but feel a bit underwhelming.

Had the duo chosen their vocal contributors more carefully, Divine Ecstasy could've been something special. Instead, we're left with an exciting showcase of potential and a few legitimate 'avant-bangers'.

Debut ‘Unlearn’ showed promise but Age of Fracture is that promise realised and then some.

Two thirds of the way in, the earth-shattering basslines make their way into the track, managing to reign in that sense of initial chaos, holding everything together and potently reminding any doubters that the trio--Efrim Menuck, Thierry Amar and Sophie Trudeau--have lost none of their sense of the epic.

We can’t choose how we’re made but we can choose what we make, and what Against Me! have crafted here is nothing short of exceptional.

Rave Tapes may not see them moving too far from their widescreen template but it’s an assured record that sees them draw from right across their rich palette of textures.

What it lacks perhaps in originality, it certainly more than delivers in getting, keeping and rewarding the listener's attention.

The result is a composed collection of tracks.

More power, more fury, more energy--it’s certainly a promising tone to set.

They’re always able to create something to get lost in. And, most importantly, the songs remain heartbreakingly, hauntingly beautiful.

It's not noise for noise's sake--it's melodic. It's quiet at points, frantic at others. It's dark, it's messy, it's a dank and smelly basement.

Get taken away by the current, and float inside every melody. It’s more intoxicating than even the most lucrative bar deal on Jägerbombs.

Their deep sea dive of a debut gradually evolves into a rich and colourful source of escape, like a coral reef excavation with the occasionally grizzly-toothed white shark thrown in for good measure.

McMorrow has shaken off the folk singer with a guitar tag to give us an album pregnant with intrigue, creativity and diversity.

Innovative, cerebral and yet totally accessible, Total Strife Forever is an incredibly impressive record.

Pop-rock deconstructionist, art-rock godfather, Portland father and family man: all these elements come through here and it makes this album a triumph.

It’s fun, it’s enjoyable and it doesn’t take itself too seriously.

If you are prepared to enter into the listening experience with open ears and an open mind then you will be rewarded with an album of remarkable completeness that feels like a genuine coming of age for two musicians who are growing a little older with a significant degree of grace.

This album is not just a holiday destination but a permanent home for anyone who wants to see what the band has to offer next.

It’s not trance, it’s not electro, it’s not quite orchestral--it’s not quite anything. They are a band with good ideas but unsteady appeal.

It moves away from what many a critic will lazily refer to as Burial-esque, but still retains the throbbing heart that's always sat at the centre of his music.

Where other works were distinctive and refined, These Spirits feels confused and clunky.

In a rush to grow up they seem to have left behind some of what made them so excellent in the first place.

He hasn't quite perfected his talents, but it's far and away the best work he's done as Gambino yet.

This is an album with ambition; a sonically sweeping piece of work with big themes and big ideas that can overwhelm you. Just let nature take its course.

Songs pound onwards, elliptical guitar lines wrapping round and round, and there's an all encompassing feeling of travelling vast distances. Relentlessly, confidently and quite, quite spectacularly.

It isn't quite as defined or as consistent as his work with Gang Gang Dance, but through persistence it certainly comes close.

[A] sumptuous five track EP that's as melodious as its predecessor but, semi-sadly, not as memorable, not quite as fulfilling, nor as enriching.

Familiar yet new and exciting, individualistic without being exclusive, ambitious yet welcoming and engaging, and inventive without becoming the sound of being clever for being clever's sake.

Disjointed rather than bad; there's undoubtedly a cross-section for which the not-quite-post-punk, not-quite-shoegaze combination works. Let's hope they find it.

An experimental collection of recordings that shows just how well they are progressing.

Billie Joe and Norah’s frolic into the Everlys’ back-catalogue makes a rewarding listen and serves its purpose mighty well: to retell an old American classic that deserves re-telling.

Although this album is unlikely to change any existing opinion about a band whose left of centre sensibilities have always meant successfully evading wider acceptance, there is enough richness in the material here to merit far more than classing Fellow Travelers as a mere novelty.

Amateurish, but defiantly unperturbed, this is a grave and momentous listen.

If there are faults with the record (aside from the mis-step of the fairground organ-esque 'Waltz), it's that while it works well as an album, it almost works too well with tracks all-too-often passing without leaving a lasting impression, with some of the shorter songs not always being given the space and time to develop as you'd perhaps expect them to.

What is particularly impressive about the EP is its diversity, without diversion.

Torres is a promising, impassioned debut.

Doing it with a little help from his friends, he's easily landed on his best album yet, out of any guise taken on in the last 10 years.

Undoubtedly there’s riches to be found here but the treasure map is harder to follow than ever.

Predictably, then, it's all too easy to 'find' (read: go searching for subconsciously or otherwise) shifts in the Welsh singer-songwriter's sound on this follow-up.

With all the various guest vocals, Pick A Piper's multi-narrative structure is a little problematic.

Surfing Strange has the band gliding over waves at record height, with barely a single hiccup.

Perhaps the biggest criticism about Brain Holiday is that it does become a bit of a yawn towards the end.

It's more than good, but it could have been great.

It's a 'take it or leave it' kind of record, but invest in Cut Copy's deranged aims and it'll feel like being part of a free-spirited cult.

M.I.A is a maverick writing this album only for herself and her cause, but still, Matangi is a welcome return to form.

Caramel is certainly a strange album, but it’s not alienating or difficult to engage with.

While it might lack some of the emotional resonance that the absolute best of their peers can achieve SYB should be commended for getting the pain parts of the deceptively tricky pop-rock jigsaw together with some aplomb.

At times it gets a little too gentle, the warm soup of instruments and Pulidio’s soothing voice blending together into a indistinguishable slush, but when it holds together it’s a pleasant trip.

It’s a crossover record rich with cultural touchstones.

Bikini Daze proves that MØ has pretty much mapped out every aspect of her identity; it's up to her which path she chooses to take.

Intersections can, at times, feel a little blinkered and mopey.

The first half of the album is a joy. The second half is even better.

Sometimes the record feels a little samey--‘Better Things’ is ironically the worst thing on there, not bringing much to the four-legged furniture--but there’s enough variety to keep the record afloat.

It's one gripped with thoughts of death and yet somehow it's is the very sound of being alive. Los Campesinos! are a band who've clearly grown up, but here, that's only a good thing.

It’s all very here and now.

By trying to make them sound something they're not, the end effect falls far short.

It stands before you with the reverence of a cathedral and leaves you with a lasting sense of piety and clarity.

With fourth album Reflektor, their past is documented in vivid detail, delivered with such urgency and bombast it's difficult to look ahead. But look ahead they do, arriving with their fullest and most ambitious record to date.

Last year’s ‘Long Black Cars’ was already leaning in the direction of old school rock ‘n’ roll, but they fully embrace it here, and all the better for it (save for a few songs that could’ve done with less guitar solos, more Larkin-via-Cocker observations).

Sure, FOTL's protagonist is as pissed off with 'The Industry' as ever, but throughout much of the 14-track beast that is How To Stop Your Brain In An Accident, there doesn't feel to be quite enough venom seeping through.

Musically it's very much as you were, country-tinged alt-rock, a little punkier in places, a little less scared of making a racket.

For a group whose best moments are when they teeter on just about every edge imaginable, it's just... boring.

Soaring arrangements and long tracks create a journey, as engaging as it is dramatic.

It feels darker, somehow, deliciously shadowey.

Sure, these glossy throwbacks to eighties synth-pop, soul and funk may not be as innovative as anything on Temple’s previous albums, but he does them incredibly well, and it'd be a fool who doesn't give them a go.

While debut ‘Beams’ was a bubbling, unpredictable electronic masterpiece, second album ‘Apocalypso’ was a dancefloor smashing, out-Fischerspoonering affair, Pacifica stands as a wildly temperamental compromise between those two drunk on a peculiar addiction to mainstream action.

It’s an album about what happens next rather than looking back. They might be a band in thrall to the 1960s but this is a record that tells us to live in the now.

Whatever the contributing factors to Bubblegum and 'Bulldozer', it's clear this is Devine brimming with confidence and energy--and to remarkable effect.

It's not as acoustic and stripped back as some will expect but it does not disappoint (unless you were waiting on eleven 'Ballgames').

This latest effort is not without its merits but is fundamentally too long, whilst its interludes are a cheap, unnecessary annoyance.

At times it’s a strange record. The rough tones don’t register as forcefully as the hooks on previous works. That said, it’s a rewarding listen, one that eventually embeds itself once given full attention.

Last Night On Earth is filled with guitar licks that manage to sound ferocious and friendly at the same time, marrying a slightly avant-garde persuasion and tight focused songwriting with something instantly warming.

For those who like their light-hearted empty-headed fun to contain a certain amount of concealed depth, Dynamics certainly does the trick.

Despite opener 'Shape' being a colossal Bjork channelling beauty that comes close to breaking point, the bulk of Interiors is restless but unassuming.

This is a thirty-five minute blast of garage rock of the highest calibre. Consider all boxes ticked: carefree, angry, passionate, loud, relentless, and fun.

This is the sound of a band who have re-discovered the party (the good bits, the bad bits, the seedy bits) and the result is that Too Weird... is an album that pops and fizzes with excitement, vim and intent.

For every moment of devastating weariness, there are several moments of chilling beauty and it is this which keeps the band from being overly oppressive in its sound.

Electronic in the loosest, most deformed sense, Psychic rips up convention from the seams to the centre.

One Breath is a beautiful, atmospheric triumph.

Krauss is on delicious vocal form throughout, sounding both as fierce and feminine as ever, matching cutting lyrics with sounds so girlish they almost risk being cutesy.

Not everything works on an album that is perhaps slightly too long, however, there is a pleasing sense of ambition to Dan, The Automator’s symphonic productions, tinged with an old school flavour.

Flynn and band are happy to be a little old-fashioned, but it can be fun to join them.

The Silver Gymnasium lacks some of whatever it was that made previous albums like 'Black Sheep Boy' and 'The Stage Names' so special.

Although still predominantly an instrumental album, there is substance enough on Breaks & Bone both musically and lyrically to reward those with the patience to persevere through the dense nature of the guitarist’s work and carefully unfurl its emotional layers to reveal a world of unhurried peacefulness.

They may have deserved the montages to move along their story, but this time round there's no denying it. Wake up, world--eight years in, Sky Larkin are demanding your attention. Deny them at your own risk.

Days Are Gone confirms what everybody already knew in fabulous style; that Haim are the band to shout about.

Move in Spectrums is a deeply controlled sea of melancholic ambience, loaded front-heavy with infinitely more engaging moments than its murkier second half.

There are not enough personal elements on this album and too many invented ones. It's frustrating, too, because the honest snippets that occasionally poke through really shine.

There are occasional flashes of brilliance and inspiration here but for the most part it feels disjointed, a victim of 'too many cooks' syndrome and disappointingly conventional for an artist with such a proven track record for forward-thinking music.

There's an unabashed sweet sincerity to Dent May’s music that makes Warm Blanket a joy to listen to.

Exploring further realms--both musically and lyrically--with familiar hands, heads and hearts, this is an album, and a band, ready to give survival a go.

A welcome return.

Nothing quite matches 'This Is What It Feels Like', but that alone is enough to give genuine reason to BANKS' mighty cause.

Purposefully lo-fi, it would be easy to dismiss as self-indulgent nostalgia, yet its quirky charms and understated directness more often than not outweigh its faults.