Not everything works perfectly here but when he gets it right, he really nails it.

AFI has little in the way of stumbles and no real clunkers to speak of, but a sense of familiarity and repetition creep in before the finish. It’s not enough to tarnish the gems but a greater commitment to ruthlessness would have been welcome.

The record works not because it feels cynical, but because beneath the obvious lyrical headlines, you can sense Longstreth’s genuine enthusiasm for the new forms he’s exploring so vigorously.

It’s an honest record, one that puts Iqbal’s own deftly balanced sound and influences to the forefront, while also having some piercing yet thoughtful insights into contemporary society. As a first step under her own name, it’s a hugely confident stride forward.

Perhaps the highest compliment you can pay the latest Faun Fables album is that neither its 'tuneful' or 'creepy' parts sound more naturally achieved than the other, and that they sound like they've sprung from the well of a woman with a unique creative – and literal – voice.

The Age Of The Understatement is as solid an idea in execution as it is in concept; a record unafraid to reach beyond its obvious limitations and produce a swashbuckling end result that might even broaden a few horizons for fans and players alike.

A comparatively sterile shadow of its predecessor.

It’s a little overlong and occasionally flirts with being a vanity project, but What The Brothers Sang draws great strength from how much Bonnie ‘Prince’ Billy and Dawn McCarthy clearly cherish these songs, and how much pleasure it gives them to share them with us.

A tight bind of rhythm and noise, of chugging menace and sudden spikes.

Grandfeathered is another distinguished addition to an already impressive body of work.

The thing is I wanted a Pretenders album, not The Black Keys feat. Chrissie Hynde. Which is what this all too often feels like.

Ghosts of Then and Now floats just out of time and is as versatile a record as they come--your interpretation will change with each setting and mood.

What is most interesting about this record, apart from it’s self-assured collection of off-beat laments is the amount of exciting doorways it flings open for the future.

The mood is buoyant, the instrumentation is varied and the childlike naivety runs rampant throughout.

As odd of a notion it is, as a setlist for a show, Weirdo Shrine is a miraculous endeavour to behold, but as an album, it suffers because of its untamed splendour.

Gripes aside, a good chunk of BORN LIKE THIS.. shows an angrier, more cynical, and, hell, maybe even better DOOM. A day may come when the mask starts to rust, but it's not just yet.

Non-Believers may disarm at first, but after a couple of listens this will quickly hook into the ears and heart as every Mac McCaughan venture does. This is his dusk album.

Like everything on L’Orange, L’Orange, the performance carries a naivety that only adds to the record’s stirring sense of innocence.

There’s a Riot Going On is their fifteenth album and, like most of their discography, it carries itself with an unassuming (but powerful) air of quiet confidence.

Not that anyone really expected or wanted a laugh a minute, but whilst these 13 tracks are certainly eclectic in style, the atmosphere throughout, with the exception of the bubbling melodic analogue chug of opener ‘A New Error’, is almost uniformly bleak.

This is as useful and high quality a starting point as just about anything they've recorded.

Overall, Process is a ferocious if at times delicately poised introduction to the incendiary world of Yvette, sonic adventurists extraordinaire.

A record that leaves no seam un-burst in its insatiable quest for mainstream adoration and success.

There’s only two real weak points to the album.... That’s it. The rest of this is good to great.

Considering the genre was built around reinventing itself at every corner, their long-term commitment to a fairly narrow sound may surprise some, but nevertheless, this is another strong entry in the Dutch Uncles catalogue.

It's an album heaving with ideas, but just coherent enough to stick together as one piece of work.

Whilst Bad Witch is definitely guilty of too much looking backwards there’s enough to keep us focused on what lies ahead.

In shedding his layers of pain, Pearson reveals his heart: broken and bloodied, but still beating, still fighting. We share and revere in his redemption, rarely has something so physically fragile sounded so mighty in its emotional resonance. A truly magnificent record.