Through lulling endless days to fretting thoughts about the future, they remain the same bunch, capable of making the impossible sound almost too easy.

Manhattan would thus far be a brilliantly joyous record, buzzing with intention and vitality. Unfortunately there are a pair of oddball transgressions that ruin this.

An enigma made by a puzzle, ESTOILE NAIANT is as compelling and as unusual as the musician who refuses to tell you his name or show you his face.

St. Vincent showcases Annie Clark as a fiercely accomplished musician, a relentlessly original artist, and now, an innovator of pop.

That there’s nothing particularly ‘new’ about Morning Phase is by no means a fault: this is acoustic Beck, and it’s acoustic Beck at his most sublime.

It's nothing we haven't heard before, but it's delightfully packaged, making it feel unique in its own way.

The glue between ten ambitious tracks, she holds her own and sounds more relevant than ever.

Their most complete record by a serious stretch, it's a work that laughs, cries, detests, adores and above anything else inspires.

With a few forgettable songs and seemingly overcrowded moments, Lo-Fang's debut falls short--acting as more of a promise of what's to come, rather than a thrilling introduction.

Each and every track has its own identity that perfectly mixes the familiar with the unfamiliar, which is simply a continuation of what The Notwist have always been best at.

Blame Confusion is great.... It spends its whole ten tracks threatening to break out in to full-blown epic--but remains able to stop short every time.

Not a lot on Spreading Rumours makes sense. It doesn't match, even in its apparent desperate attempt to sound like the bargain bin of an Urban Outfitters.

Always vivid and often affecting, the record deals with love and loss in a way that constantly resonates.

An album which feels lovingly crafted, full of moments that only reveal themselves after multiple listens.

The material on Keel Her is probably best enjoyed one by one--17 tracks at once is a bit much.

While the album may look backwards musically, Gonzalez has always been particularly adept at chronicling the world around him (in this case his Hackney stomping ground) to evoke a strong sense of place and keep the record firmly rooted in the here and now.

It's never boring, the dynamism of the tracks means they all have a sense of motion. It's just, after a while, there doesn't seem to be a destination in mind.

Like the heady themes on Sun Structures, Temples appear to be a group still ascending to a brighter sphere.

Bold, experimental, and an absolute delight, Bombay Bicycle Club cycle the road less traveled by, and that has made all the difference.

This time, with their newest album, the band seem to want to give something back, and whilst obviously somewhat dark at moments, it comes loaded with joyous and celebratory sounds.

An album trying to survive under the harshest conditions, Angel Guts: Red Classroom is a properly thrilling listen.

This time around, she delivers more of the same: tracks for the club with a sense of restraint and melancholy, as well as a poppy accessibility.

There are a lot of words in this, their fifth album, and yes, they have always been a literate band, but here it often seems somewhat forced.

Breton have made a record that draws upon their art foundations more than their first.

Gardens + Villa undoubtedly have many toys at which they're more than adept at manipulating--just a shame there aren't better songs for them to adorn.

It fits within its own logic, but no others, resulting in a succinct record that should be anything but.

It seals the chapter of Jordan’s late teens, early twenties, and it lands up being his finest work by a country mile.

The atmosphere isn't always strictly severe, knowing right when to let up with gorgeous melodies seeping through the chiselled cracks. These moments save the record from being vociferous without a cause, allowing the more vehement moments to speak louder than they would otherwise.