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.

The record’s grip does start to loosen as it progresses, and while they have made less of a leap than their previous effort, Mother nevertheless demonstrates what a vibrant and fruitful partnership the two musicians continue to enjoy.

Having slowed down five per cent, you could imagine The Chronicles of Marnia appealing to anyone who liked Sleater Kinney, or Battles, Dutch Uncles, or even Foals, without having the acquired taste for bands as squirky as Deerhoof or Ponytail.

If All My Friends Are Funeral Singers has said one thing at all to me, it’s that Califone merit further investigation, especially for someone who tends to write off ‘folk’ music. And if that doesn’t make it a success, then I don’t know what does.

Instrumentally, subtle use of synths, keyboards and strings now embellish the sharp arrangements and add a new, more mature, depth to the bands sound.

Toward The Low Sun finds Dirty Three functioning at a consistently (and characteristically) high level--offering nine varied and concise pieces showcasing the gauntlet of their past successes, performed with a vitality which decimates any accusation of retread.

While Ma Fleur is no better than The Cinematic Orchestra’s previous scores, it is equally gorgeous in how it responds to and ekes out intellectual quagmires of song.

Gang Gang Dance, however, have found their voice in a world of retro revivalists and fly-by-night trendhoppers. It's whatever they want it to be, and it's awesome.

Intelligent indie-rockers, look nor listen no further for your possible album of the year.

Paperwork a is worthy listen because it contains all the elements that had us take notice of volcano!

You can’t help recognising a kind of supreme inspiration behind the thing, fuelled alternately by manic rage and exultant gratification.

Certainly, on early listens, it appears to lack some of the strange staying power of the band’s very best releases, as if there’s an indefinable something missing. As a result, this is unlikely to jar experienced Wolf Eyes listeners as much as it is newcomers.

Resultantly, while the textures are nostalgic, the album is a very contemporary experience. Since you're unlikely to ever get the same 20 plus artists on the same page again, it's best to enjoy the album for what it is: a one-off experiment, more of a happening than a record, that can't (and possibly shouldn't) be repeated.

If ‘April’s Song’ is the low point of the record’s wanderlust--an affectless instrumental track that goes nowhere--elsewhere it blooms wonderfully.

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.

The Follower is a decent enough record, and is worthy of your time, but lacks that special something that sets The Field apart in the techno world.

Unlike its predecessor, this isn’t quite a thrilling record; its energy and invention, though, points to big things for Parquet Courts, especially if they can continue to adhere to such a ferocious work ethic.

By now, Frida’s come so far from where she started, you will have been won over, and it’s possible to see the early schmaltz as a necessary counterpoint: a musical analogue of the innocence to be lost, and/or transformed into experience.

Ultimately, despite the odd moment of off piste brilliance (ie 'Death to My Hometown'), Wrecking Ball is at its best when Bruce sounds the most like Bruce.

Whilst Deradoorian’s ambitions were undoubtedly high in creating The Expanding Flower Planet, the end result is more miss than hit, leaning too heavily and too often on dense harmonies at a slow pace which ends in a record lacking cohesion and direction.

Brutally hip-hop with post-punk tendencies, Ratking’s debut album is a wonderfully dystopic record that is as progressive as it is anarchist. Ratking really is that thing.

My album of the year - whatever year it is.

An ambitiously themed, leftfield, modern classical album that not only impresses, but totally enthrals.

The Cool Kids’ revivalist format might not remain flavour of the month long enough for their debut LP proper, "When Fish Ride Bicycles," to have much of a commercial impact when it’s released later this year, but this taster ten-tracker of older material certainly leaves a pleasant aftertaste.

Instead of jumping on board the reformation circuit like many of his Nineties contemporaries, Haines has released a concept album about British wrestling. Haines is not mad. He is an artist in the truest sense, and for that he is to be applauded.

Overall, you’re left the impression of an artist genuinely expressing themselves. It may not be his Born In The USA--despite what Vile claims--but Bottle It In ultimately succeeds in its intentions and further escalates Vile’s reputation as part of a rare breed of authentic songwriters. And that’s alright for now.

A couple of tracks at once would probably be the best prescription to suggest, rather than ingesting as a whole.

Much like the youth the record so pointedly evokes, it’s worth going through everything to get to this point.