If you are a pre-existing fan then you will find much to enjoy here, but more importantly if you are a sceptic who thinks pop punk is a baser pleasure reserved exclusively for the under 16s, you could do a lot worse than check this album out.

For the most part the Angels charitably continue to breath life into a ragged genre with a looseness and playfulness that belies their serious business name.

As has become customary for The Leisure Society, Hemming's lyrics and gift for storytelling once again stand out, his wonderful couplets and warm voice helping to lift many of the weaker moments here above torpor.

It's not a record that will convert anyone who had previously dismissed these two Canadians, but it preaches a sermon that the present congregation will enjoy to their heart's content.

As a whole, it feels slightly temporary and detached, largely thanks to its uneven pacing and experimental streak.

There's little doubt that Mudhoney intend this to be an obtuse, difficult listen--the lyrical allusions to GG Allin certainly suggest as much--but its lackadaisical approach leaves it feeling toothless rather than effortlessly cool.

Machineries Of Joy isn’t [the truly vital album], but what it is is a touching, ambitious and inventive album, and one which stands head and shoulders above most

Perhaps this a record that works better under the summer sun, but right now Ride Your Heart doesn’t sound much more than a showcase for surfy style and lo-fi charm.

A fine album of rich, smooth, sunset-songs.

Hung At Heart is not a particularly forward-thinking album with all of its 15 songs dealing in homespun 60s grooves, but this is a largely irrelevant quibble when the songs are this good.

For those open to more electronic sounds, this will likely be a great release and to those who are dubious of change, the band have accounted for that with a handful of numbers that more or less embody their established sound.

Scattered with the odd moment that’ll leave you in no doubt that Woolhouse is far from the finished product, he nonetheless offers glimpses of a talent that is at times unrivalled.

When compared to each members’ regular output, there’s not a lot to take seriously here. That’s quite all right though.

The experience is filmic first and foremost, barely for a minute could Les Revenants survive as a stand-alone album, but it’s the curiosity and atmospherics of that leant narrative that compels the listener through the album.

Granted, even now it's difficult to assess his work wholly objectively given his recent, well-documented struggles, but strip away any unnecessary contextualisation and the record stands up proudly and defiantly on its own two feet.

This isn’t a band going through the motions, it’s a band going through a violent and explosive rebirth, a return to form that’s almost unparalleled.

Comedown Machine has done the best thing The Strokes could have done.

If you were expecting a post-rock album, you've come to the wrong place; this is something sharper, more accessible, sure, but no less clever.

Afraid Of Heights is a far stronger and much more accomplished effort, sounding more like an apposite album than any of Wavves' back catalogue.

As effortlessly rich as Wondrous Bughouse seems for the listener, it's evident this record took Powers to places he wishes he’d never been. Darkness has never sounded so gloriously technicolor.

All in all, with Isles, Wild Belle is sure to attract many visitors who will visit for a quick party, but end up staying on for the island romance.

While all the elements are there it seems far too eager to drift into not only the background but also into itself, with it turning into musical wallpaper and into one, long indistinguishable track with worrying ease.

Specter At The Feast runs out of steam before it runs out of songs. Not a terrible album, just one lacking in inspiration.

All in all, it's interesting but frustrating in equal measures, however it is sure to please fans who know what they're in for.

Muchacho is a record which can soothe even the darkest nights and moods.

It's loveable, thrilling and properly innovative.

The cover boasts No Thrills, but listen to the music inside and you'll know nothing can be further from the truth.

Blessed with a beautiful, halting falsetto and a way with words, he is a very sad man, and this is a very sad album. It will make you want to lie down in the dark for a while and think about things.

Miami is a record that is hard to get a handle on at times, but it is all the more resonant for it when you eventually fall under its spell.

This is a confused mess of a record, with nonsensical lyrics, trite musical clichés, and not a lot else.

Suede deserve some credit for being one of the few reunited bands to actually risk their reputation by recording a new album and whilst there is nothing on 'Bloodsports' as gloriously epic as 'Stay Together' or as bat-shit crazy as 'Introducing The Band', it should be viewed as a partial success.

Crusher has a way of alternating organically between pop songs and darker stuff without sounding inconsistent.

It’s not all change though, there is still a sense of continuity.

Hit The Waves offers little in way of innovation, an unthreatening album to Sigur Ros and The Knife’s releases later this year, but The Mary Onettes are perfectly happy to look backwards.

While the relentless realisation of their film-ready stylings may not be to everyone's tastes, the fact they're here at all in the first place is a cause worth celebrating in itself.

Tales From Terra Firma offers a richer, fuller sound than the debut album and some tracks are tinged with an ever-so-gentle coating of sobriety and growing maturity but the important components of melody and subtlety are relatively unchanged.

In close proximity of each other, ‘Call It What You Want’, ‘Perfect’ and ‘Onwards And Upwards’ are a little too timid, each simply brushing against each other with no discernible difference. These are only minor concerns when everything else is as captivating as they are.

What Duologue should be most proud of in Song & Dance is the variety and the consistently high quality.

Palma Violets' deliciously raggedy rock is enveloping.

This is an album of climaxes and cathartic streams of consciousness, but an album listenable from start to finish.

The Leeds five-piece combine psychedelia, krautrock and gonzo rock 'n roll to unashamedly epic effect on this surprisingly immediate debut album.

Without doubt, this is Kate's heartbreak album; candid in its inspiration, both musically and emotionally

Theatrical, over-blown, and just a little contrived, any promise of real substance sadly seems to fade after the first four tracks, and never quite returns.

It serves us like a well-bound photo album which we can flick through and see snapshots of the band at certain moments in their short, yet successful, life so far.

Young Dreams have created a collection that compacts all the sunny sounds of youthful hopes and expectations into one blissful whole.

Competent. Completely forgettable.

It's full of wonderfully written lines, often intimate, sincere and grotesque, and sometimes weirdly anglophile.

In Woman, they’ve bypassed the hurdle of dangerous, immaterial preconceptions by creating the ultimate debut album: a future classic brimming with effortless, tangible love songs.

Chelsea Light Moving should feel like a tired hashing-over of sonic tropes, considering what a prolific career the front man's had. But it doesn't; it's a lively, noisy semi-resurrection.

New Moon is a rare and very special album.

Parker's vocals have taken a noticeably more prominent role, often duetting with herself rather than her husband.... Songs like 'Four Score' and 'Holy Ghost'--where Parker takes the lead--are buoyed by unashamedly gospel-inflected chorales. And it works, wonderfully.

The result is an accomplished debut that's a welcome--though not essential--addition to a growing number of lo-fi pop bands.

The beautiful part about Bad Blood is that it is both entirely predictable yet completely disarming.

Each song feels like a separate vignette, but putting your finger on the exact theme isn't easy; more often it's left entirely to the interpretation of the listener.

There’s palpable relief when ‘Sugar’ gets proceedings underway and the thinking is all; 'Yes, Shout Out Louds, yes, this is how you start a record'--no dilly, precious little dally, instead wham-bam-slam straight into this behemoth of a pop tune.

Although the ten tracks are by no means light of memorable moments, it's the thrilling range of diverse songs that flow effortlessly that makes Antipodes a debut album to take note of.

In a record where there are a minor derivations on a tried and tested formula, 'Still Life' is a major curveball; a high-risk almost jazz-like number that's almost ruined by the strange whizzing noise that could easily be a kazoo teasing its wares throughout.

The trick is that, while you know that she's stretching, she never sounds anything less than completely comfortable and in total control.

It's rich, vivid, and occasionally odd enough to give you a start.

While songs like 'Significant Bullet' and 'Leominster' feel like slightly unnecessary inclusions and can cause the listening experience to drag slightly, this is a very impressive record with some truly excellent songs.

This is a record which will no doubt appeal to long-term fans of the band as it revels in the same sonic territory as their previous output, and it works as a party-starting soundtrack with its simple lyrics and vitality, but there's a distinct lack of any real depth or enterprise.

Anyone hoping for 'The Eraser' to fledge further results will be similarly dumbfounded. But taken at token value, Amok is a very fine work indeed.

The fearful funk of inc. isn't just summarised as another outlet for meditative reflection--every song on this record showcases unbeatable quirk-pop perfection.

The song structures are comparatively comprehensible, and ultimately, the whole process would be somewhat superfluous if the duo weren’t capable of creating something worthwhile to sonically experience.

Every song has multiple hooks, catching your brain and pulling your toes up and down to the rhythm.

You're Nothing is the magnificent transition from teens powered by punk angst to men mastering aggressive rock songs.

With its muggy, lo-fi atmosphere, Be Your Own King works best at its most carefree.... [But] The tail end of the record does come to a bit of a standstill.

This debut album scraps coherence and convention and prioritises the more vital values of music; making songs that are both accessible and rinsed in invention.

They're a throwback to the eighties heyday of playing around with the familiar shapes and sounds of songs whilst still being, well, listenable and accessible.

There are some wonderful moments, the single ('We No Who U R') and the title track are starkly magnificent, but the general feel is a bit of a comedown.

Clash The Truth is an accomplished album that should see Beach Fossils leave behind lo-fi slacker pop's balmy evenings.

While Untogether is immaculately put together, it does take a while to cross over and connect with you.

Reasons To Believe is a worthy, if overtly reverent, addition to the steady stream of Hardin covers.... But some of these covers are overtly reverent because they fail to acknowledge this schism in the dark soul of the man.

All in all, seemingly indebted to many, this is a band equipped with new-found confidence, poise and an incredibly impressive sophomore effort.

This record might not quite affiliate the soundtrack to your stereotypical image of a hoedown, but it’d more than cater for the boozy walk home under starry skies.

There's clearly something here, there's an evolution in what Shields is doing. But, is it any good? Yes. Is it better than 'Loveless'? Probably not--and it's unfair to compare it to a predecessor that we've had two decades to live with and love. Given its gestation, it perhaps suffers from being a less cohesive body of work.

There is a real sense of Smith genuinely expressing himself through the number of strutting guitar solos and melodic flourishes

Save for a few tweaks, she doesn’t go to great lengths to expand upon the musical formula that’s served her to date.

Pissed Jeans are loud, they're angry; they're buoyant, they're funny; they're introspective and melancholic. They're totally original, and of their time.

IV is a wondrous beast.

There’s a slight dipping point of ‘Away We Go’ and ‘Iron Fist’, and this album doesn’t stand up quite as well as either of the ‘Good Apollo, I’m Burning Star’ epics, but nonetheless this is a thoroughly thrilling entry in to Coheed and Cambria’s rich canon.

With its Ramones-via-The Golden State garage punk, it's brilliantly noisy in all the best places ('White On White', 'Wait For The Man') and yet not afraid to tone down on occasion ('Gimme Something').

Now, we see a new-found confidence as they step out their comfort zone for a deeply personal album.

Assured, confident, and infectious, Wait For Something To Happen sees a band developing both as musicians and songwriters while still retaining what made them great in the first place.

One of the consistently brilliant musicians working today hasn't let us down yet.

It's nice, if a little lightweight.

Having been dogged with comparisons to Friendly Fires since their formation, it is ironic that this record perhaps sounds like the kind of misstep that the St. Albans band made themselves with their second album 'Pala'.

The tracks are less punchy than before and perhaps more subdued, though this is the sort of music that needs to be immersed in and often takes time to truly appreciate.

Lysandre frequently charms. It is a primarily low-key statement, but does enough to suggest that Owens' future post-Girls may be very promising.

There will be those who will listen to Indians and not get swept along with their world-weary tidings but for those who feel the same or just want to escape, this LP is perfection.

The beauty lies in the flaws, the imperfections, and A Long Way To Fall is way too immersed in picture perfect punctiliousness for this to make any lasting impression.

A patchy debut effort.

We Are The 21st Century Ambassadors Of Peace And Magic is a great full-length debut that is far more than a nostalgia trip.

Esben And The Witch's second LP is a thrilling, goosebump-raising collection of songs that will be in heavy rotation for the rest of the year (and beyond).

It may not be one for the impatient listener--Centralia can drone a little in places, and almost touches on music reminiscent of that you'd relax to while having a deep tissue massage. But take the time to listen properly and you'll realise it's beautifully crafted.

Anything In Return is an album applicable to plenty of palettes.

The music is complex, but not in a Phillip Glass orchestral kind of way.

It may lack slightly in ambition but in terms of fulfilling Plantman's ideology to make gimmick free, classically-tinged emotive songs it does just fine.