As an observer however it’s tempting to shoo him away awhile into the redwood forests, just long enough that he might wrestle with something a little meatier, a work as gently heartbreaking as it is cerebrally seductive.

Yes, the style and the evocative mood that positively drips from this record are perhaps its most obvious elements but the spirit that underlies these sweltering ballads is massive.

Michel Poiccard is an inconsistent, raucous, sleazy mess. But that's what The Death Set do best--and you sense that Beau Velasco would approve.

The twelve songs of Nightlife rattle by the listener with alarming speed, and at only thirty minutes long the record seems to be over just as soon as its begun.

The album bubbles and whispers along. You can listen to every word and every inflection or you can let it carry you--Foster's casual vocal style holds true for the lyrics, so each phrase is a shape as much as it's a fully formed, structured section.

As a relative paradigm shift of an album, The King is Dead is a success, with The Decemberists managing to make their transition smoothly, creating a work that is well-structured, hook-driven and coherent.

It’s clear that, especially now they’ve released Lacuna, Childhood are indeed making the right kind of noises that’ll ably assist them in making that important career leap from dreamy infancy to artistic maturity.

Stevens and Vogel have been playing together for almost 22 years now, if you can believe that, and We Are Undone is a fine addition to their catalogue.

For now, this just about gets the job done, but a little more variety, even if it's just a return to the noisier interludes of those past recordings, would be welcome next time.

Ellipsis isn’t a career-defining album. ... This is a worthy addition to their catalogue and a couple of songs are their in years. For a band on album seven, that’s still an achievement.

Whilst not wholly unique,Golden Suits is undeniably individual--a wholehearted, open but personal space--built from imagination, memories, stories: what he knows and who he knows.

The happy-go-lucky, Casio-plated sheen surrounding their elegantly crafted pop songs disguises what are, by and large, tales of bitterness, regret and longing for things that are impossibly out of reach.

There’s a huge range of styles on display, but Innocents remains a remarkably cohesive and creative record, thanks both to Moby’s instrumentation and to the album’s conceptual feel.

. This isn't an album you listen to in a conscious sense: it's an album you put on and switch off, allowing it to carry you on a journey through the wilderness. It's O'Death's most accomplished work to date, and a fine piece of work at that.

‘Warnings / Promises’ is the work of a band pushing itself to the limits of its generous, but ultimately not boundless musical ability.

Girlpool make themselves a deliciously relatable pair, filling the songs with as much soft warmth as harsh fire, putting a sharp, snotty edge onto a new wave of riot grrrl. They’re exactly the sort of act 2014 needs.

Humanz is good, because Gorillaz are good, and it distinguishes itself by probably being the band’s most party-orientated record, which is great. But ultimately it feel like Gorillaz are now more curators than provocateurs, locked into a classy, comfortable groove.

With Bright Sunny South, Amidon has taken a huge step forward as a folk artist, creating arrangements which preserve his musicianship, while deepening the maturity of his interpretive skills.

Unlike Madonna who seemed to just ingest cool genres, it seems from the very concept of this album and woven into her manifesto, that Gaga gets far more about the modern world than she's letting on.

As a whole, 'Here Come The Tears' is a welcome collection of songs, even if the sentiment of it all does become a little saccharine-queasy after a while.

Like other effective instrumental LPs, The Most Beautiful Ugly compiles a series of vignettes into one coherent stream.

When it's good, it's very very good, and when it's bad, it can veer from dull to irritating and back again over the course of a single verse. Thankfully though, there's enough of the good to make this a hugely enjoyable album overall, and more than deserving of your attention.

Perhaps Nightmare Ending would have been a more interesting record if Cooper had let himself off the leash rather more and explored ‘flawed’ ideas and sounds more purposefully.

It brings with it a deftly executed change in tone that we've only glimpsed in the past and a refreshing emotional honesty, which not only feels mature but enduring.

So while Blue Lambency Downward may not be punk in body, it’s certainly filled with that same defiant spirit.

Occasionally they over-indulge, and it’s certainly not their best LP, but it's easy to forgive them given the obvious love that’s contained within the tracks here.

This 1989 may work wonderfully on its own terms (if Adams had written this himself it would be his best album) but its real strength is in highlighting Swift’s immaculate writing for those of us whose relationship to the original is intellectual rather than instinctive.

It’s a tricky album to judge, considering its best moments are easy to overlook, but there’s enough to make this worth a listen and suggest that better days might lie ahead.

With the singular exception of the mournful, aching track ‘Mawal’, To Syria, With Love is a celebration of the music of Omar’s home. With the life and vibrancy of the compositions necessarily tapered by the sobering, harrowing reality of the honesty in his lyrics, he has brought us an all-too-real-life case of tears on the dancefloor.

It’s been said that Let’s Stay Friends is more pop than anything Les Savy Fav have put out before, but it’s still tight-fist tough.

As The D.O.T., the material on Diary has an honesty of its own, at times perfectly balancing Skinner and Harvey’s styles.

These songs don't linger too long, and the album--with its 36-minute runtime--feels efficient and complete.

Above all, I can't help but feel that Wiley is still too much of a creative character, one relentlessly trying new and different things, to offer the sort of polished and succinct singles that would stick with a daytime radio audience. This unrelenting originality at least is something to be celebrated.

Just like Sky Blue Sky and Wilco (The Album), there's songs that are more ambitious and some that are more successful, but all of them fit as a cohesive whole, just as on every Wilco album so far.

It’s pleasantly like listening to a lost Bobby Darin or Andy Williams recording session where they took the wrong medication for shits and giggles.

This is a work oft-enchanting and tenderly relayed: the sound of a first hand both confident and considered, whetting the appetite for more from this young American with a stately flourish.

This is a surprisingly engaging record that highlights Ian Brown as an underrated songwriter and arranger, and underscores the point that while his enthusiasm for creativity is as infectious as ever, Spike Island and its ilk are unlikely to be revisited in the forseeable future.

three of the five new tracks are worth getting hold of, but the rest will be familiar. Does it hang together as an album? Definitely--it's a pretty accurate summation of the band's career so far, and would be a terrific way to introduce yourself to them if you haven't already done so.

Tunng have been moving towards this downbeat place slowly, and their arrival here shows a real cohesion in them as songwriters and as a band. It’s less the sound of a band losing their edge and more the sound of them finding their zen.

The surreality and absurdity of dance music from the apocalypse is a joyful alternative to the surreality and absurdity of disaster movies and real life disasters.

Geocidal is a fascinating listen purely for the fact that it acknowledges no boundaries: musical, geographical or otherwise. You may not love it; you may not even like it; but you'll pay rapt attention regardless. What it lacks in immediacy, the duo's debut album makes up for in sheer spirit.

In Each and Every One is a whirlwind of an experience that elevates as much as it does bury you in fear, you'd be foolish to write this off.

Sing Along To Songs You Don’t Know isn’t quite the gaudy-T-shirted teambuilding horror it threatened to be. But Múm would do well to note that a quiet, solitary hum can be just as stirring as a rousing chorus.

The lack of cohesion is not a criticism per se, but rather a recognition that The Air Between Words is not really an album in the classical sense, as its parts are greater than its sum.

Thanks to a couple of moments where they give in to the anthemic impulses, the rest of Slave... can afford to drift along at its own singular pace, with rewarding results.

Thank f*** that they have delivered what we have come to expect from The Vaccines.

Perhaps the highest praise of Lights Out is that it portrays the gamut of romantic and sexual longings and emotions of adolescence with the honesty that you would expect from someone who recently experienced them, but with poise, melodic nous and a musical maturity that doesn't forsake youthful vitality.

It's more adventurous than the album prior–-and generally more successful in this eclecticism than her debut, certainly--yet that Torrini’s best work lies ahead of her seems indubitable.

The album is certainly steeped in the synthpop and post-punk genres so associated with their feeder groups, so much of this album feels very much in its comfort zone: a solid and pleasing sound with few surprises.

Murmuration’s darkness is a source of foreboding, curiosity and yes, comfort.

They are certainly light enough to float, and, if you will forgive one last crass metaphor, they may just provide a navigational guide to safety for anyone stranded in dangerous waters.

The nicest aspect of this thoroughly nice record is that Black manages it without sounding either insipid or cloying.

West, when left alone to his devices, is able to transform emotion into the esoteric, colluding synthesis into vibrant, organic swaths of sound. Rhythmically taking jabs like hesitation marks, throwing caution to the wind.

There's no doubt that the familiarity of Dear's style after several records means Beams has to work a bit harder to hold your attention than previous efforts..... The good news is that until that issue is resolved, there's plenty here to hold your interest.

A welcome return, and one that hopefully signals a healthier and less troublesome existence in the future.

In the end we’re left with a solid, sympathetically-performed record that only intermittently comes to life, which is either a subtle victory or a hollow triumph of taste over gutbucket soul, depending on which way you look at it.

Many bands have attempted to capture the appeal of college rock at its hight, but Happyness are perhaps the first that don’t leave you merely wanting to dust off your old Pavement records. Write In will do nicely.

It's true that Love at the Bottom of the Sea does oscillate sharply in terms of quality, though the stature of its finer moments comfortably overshadow the lesser offspring.

The mix of genres and presentation doesn’t always segue as well as they might, and strangely given that mix, it could do with being a little more radical at times. That said there’s plenty to enjoy and it’s often fun to hear these iconic works in unfamiliar fashion.

Dignified, confident and packed full of elevating song structures, Piano Ombre is an album many will find euphorically addictive.

When the music is less overwhelming, you notice that July knob-twiddler Randall Dunn’s clean production and Nadler’s move away from the depths of morbidity have changed something about her music.

If emotional depth is what you’re after, these eight tracks are never likely to be your bag. But, if you can take Bigfoot for the sun-blushed, sweet-natured collection of songs that it is, then this could be the soundtrack to your summer.

California sounds like the work of a band filled with the joy of existence, giving in to every pop indulgence or production trick that could stuff in one more hook before the end.

Some of the tracks struggle to hold the listener’s interest.... Nevertheless, there are enough highs on here for this to be considered a very good, warm record.

While no one can argue that it’s not an accomplished and distinguished collection of songs, the doubts still remain--albeit fainter than before--as to why one would choose this collective over at least half-a-dozen similar-sounding yet ultimately superior bands.

As it stands though, Eraser Stargazer is the first time Guerilla Toss have been able to capture on tape their high energy mix of anarchic rock, their anything-goes scraping of strings and keys, those pounding rhythms, and that joyously smiling sort of youthful fury. In short, it’s the first time they sound essential.

Take The BQE on its own terms and there’s plenty to enjoy.

Although there is nothing world-beating here, Kinsella has been quietly plugging away at this project for over a decade now, and as he approaches middle-age, may well have struck a formula that propels his Owen project into the stratosphere of other highly regarded midwest-American contemporaries Bon Iver, Sufjan Stevens or Tallest Man on Earth.

All in all, Amputechture can be compared to watching a Hollywood car chase: impressive, but ultimately a heartless experience.

In all, Rivers and Streams confirms that Melnyk is quite right to make the big claims of himself which he does.

Creevy’s vocals are a controlled force, and it’s hard to image a woman who writes so incisively about her feelings ever recorded a song about grilled cheese. The potential was there from the beginning. It’s nice to see that they’ve realised it.

Their music really does speak for itself through just their voices and a drum kit. Anyone suspicious of how that might translate can put those fears aside, Be OK is a fine record, and fitting document of the group that created it.

Nevertheless, the casual listener will have little to soak up from here, only surface bruising. The masochists amongst us already know we’re gonna get our kicks from this.

Division Street is Simon’s sweet step into the twilight sun.

Really, what you’re left with is an accomplished album, delivered with passion and feeling, that’s easy to acknowledge as pretty good--to admire, even--but hard to be seriously moved by.

Linguistic detective work aside, engage with natural scenery through scattered sound, this album does.

A solid, quality record with atmosphere and character in spades that proves its creators as an active and current force.

There’s filler for sure, but with the 13 tracks being sleek as they are such fluff merely makes for a more rounded proposition.

Chasing Yesterday [is] an exceptionally easy listen that manages to stay just the right side of Easy Listening. An excellent record for Sunday mornings or autumn car journeys, staring at the landscape going by.

The inescapable feeling that Don’t Stop probably won’t sell all that many copies makes the songs sound like electric guitars without amplifiers. There are only so many things a musician can provide and sadly Annie has it all but that key component.

On Glory it is something to celebrate; the sound of a Britney Spears much more confident and comfortable in herself than she has seemed in years.

No lives will be changed, nor hearts broken, but it does what it needs to do satisfyingly well.

What we have to deal with is a record we already fully understand, a record that we can’t project our own ideas on to, and that’s a shame. It’s nice to dream every now and then, Adam. Let us dream.

There are moments worth latching on to but for the full effect, go stand in a club with him and watch him perform.

If the refusal to play to old strengths has a slightly scattergun effect, it’s hard to begrudge this slightly mad record. There will be those Everything Now alienates, but Arcade Fire are not your corporate product.

Planet Of Ice is an oddly sour letdown, a high-quality album that suffers only from the reception and perception of its forefathers.

It may only weigh in at seven tracks--one of which has already been released elsewhere, the remainder previously offered only as merch table CDRs--and a little over a quarter of an hour long, but Portland-spawned Blitzen Trapper’s Black River Killer is easily substantial enough to be mildly confusing at times.

As an entity it's perhaps best seen as the siesta to Landscapes' nocturnal astral tryst – lighter and less intensely psychedelic, but immensely enjoyable nonetheless.

A bit like returning to your home town, it’s a little bit different but essentially the same every time, and there’s always something comforting about that.

Overall, It's Alright Between Us As It Is is yet another solid entry into Lindstrøm's discography. It doesn't re-invent the wheel in terms of genre or what we expect of the Norwegian producer, but it just keeps things ticking along with exciting and unexpected flourishes at every turn.

The back end of the record seems to lose everything that is so great about Luneworks and replace it with something even better: a discordant, throbbing pulse.

This is good but not as great as it probably should have been.

Although not quite out of this world as its title suggests, Interstellar represents a haughty development in Frankie Rose's artistic capabilities.

It’s a little too smooth in places, and also a little lacking in assurance, but just like my friend, it’s worth making the effort to get into this party.

The good far outweighs the bad here, and with Generation Freakshow Feeder have created another strong addition to their mostly impressive back catalogue.

Red Night is a launch pad, doling out tunes and following each eerie throb with a radio-ready smart bomb.

Solar Year manage to take traditional choral music and refract it through a modern prism. It seems at once on the pulse of the zeitgiest, yet at the same time strangely timeless. The lush production creates an atmosphere of sustained reverie, which envelops a listener in a warm yet visceral way.