This debut album is very much the culmination of Faker's disparate influences, showcasing his broken, downtempo soul at its finest.

As a starting point, So It Goes is a damn fine one.

There are plenty of shout-a-long moments along the way though (the frantic whoa’s and blah-blah’s on ‘Lionheart’ arrive at exactly the right time), and all-in-all it’s an extremely commendable effort that solidifies PUP as one of this year’s bands to get sweaty to at a festival.

There are basically no odd turns here, no tangents into unexpected territory and certainly nothing at will make you spin your head round for a second glimpse. That being said, it fulfils its remit with consummate ease and you'd be hard pressed to say it's unenjoyable.

The album is an obvious step-up right from the start.

Old Fears makes for a fascinating record, evolving gradually from start to finish and yet doing so in a way subtle enough so as to never jar nor stand out.

He sounds soft, restrained and beautiful.

This delight of an album might bend and warp reality, but it’s also a rare gem because underneath all of its trickery it still projects back a reflection of something completely grounded.

SOHN's essentially written an album's worth of brilliant pop songs.

It’s a feel good album, not through cynical design, but just through making whoever is listening feel good.

It's a fine debut.

This balance between a sweet, butter wouldn’t melt surface and a resolutely ballsy undercurrent means that, over the course of eleven tracks, the album is never predictable.

Overwhelmingly luscious at times, Range Of Light is a record that musically embodies the art of escapism, even if that does means evading even the consciousness of its listeners from time to time.

Kirk's irresistible vocals lend the album all the quality it needs, and their lighter touches and some inspired choices really add depth to the monochromatic and claustrophobic formula.

Himalyan is loud, raucous, massive amounts of fun and it has style, swagger and teeth.

Here and Nowhere Else is relentless in the best possible way.

The songs only sound sleeker, more melodic, more intensely stoned.

Ultimately, this is either the musical equivalent of seeing your old clothes in a vintage store, or this album has been hardwired into our central nervous system.

Darlings is warm and expansive and sexy, and feels like a more intimate affair than his debut, 2007’s ‘Spirit If...’.

This is an album that suffers from having altogether too much surface and not nearly enough substance.

Till Midnight might not be the most groundbreaking album, largely treading a path that has been well worn over the years, but few people do impassioned, rustic folk rock as well as Chuck.

Whilst Teeth Dreams isn't a bad album, it feels pedestrian and ordinary compared to what The Hold Steady are capable of.

While they do make for a well-structured collection of songs, individual tracks are often disappointing and the result feels like a half-hearted series of Doctor Who; its audience sustained more by thrilling trailers and the promise of fulfilment than any real substance

To put it in an alcoholic analogy; their sound may be like a fine wine, maturing as it gets older. But they’re sure as hell not going to hesitate in sprinting to the nearest wood and necking the whole damn bottle.

Though the writing is clever and at times funny, the whininess and constant soul-searching shuts the audience out, and anyone deciding to stay is bludgeoned again and again with his relentless wet sentimentality.

A kaleidoscope of charming sounds.

While fans of the band's more lo-fi beginnings may stare, open-mouthed, bemused at the central role played by synths on Forcefield, there's every chance they'll be gaining a whole slew of newbies, should these many choruses be set loose.

This is the sound of an artist who has allowed himself to take a break and record eleven tracks he would like to rele