Anyone looking for all of the above is not going to be disappointed by Something Dirty, which contains more than its fair share of mischief and mayhem. Crucially, it's in keeping with Faust tradition, but it always looks forward rather than back.

'I'm Still Believing' and 'Dream Orchestrator' provide capable reminders of Toy's cosmic rock outs from yore but its the dreamier, lovelorn compositions that steal the limelight and honours here.

This is the most brutal metal record to see a release in 2006.

A record that has clearly been crafted with great care and a terrific talent behind both the songwriting and the production.

The best moments are those which eschew any attempt to write proper 'songs' and instead simply try to convince the listener that he or she is travelling on an epic, wobbly, thrilling and frightening, mind-expanding journey through outer space.

A shimmering, optimistic record recalling Stevie Wonder and Brian Wilson, the LP makes for a comparative step back in time, with smooth yet fuzzy basslines, funk breakdowns, clever arrangements and soaring backing vocals.

If you love The Icarus Line and Comets On Fire, and wonder what a record exploring the expansive middle ground between the two outfits might sound like, look/listen no further.

That they’ve somewhat restricted themselves in the way the record was constructed is also, oddly, a very good thing because it’s allowed them to strain and work within a framework and yield excellent results.

Largely acoustic, it is a drowsy, potent EP.

They try hard, Coldplay, but it just isn't enough; their fourth album might just be their best yet, but it's still a long way from being the epochal classic that Chris Martin is desperate to create.

So while it’s still tough to classify his sound, Silver Wilkinson is Bibio’s most streamlined recording to date.

Occult Architecture Vol. 1 makes for a sorcerous entreaty to dig that little bit deeper when weighing up the relationship--and clearly quite inspiring power--of the inner world and the outer realm. Here’s hoping the second installment delivers just as forcefully.

Not since Mansun's "Six" have I heard an album twist its songs into a musical Lombard Street--and I can already picture the audience screaming its approval in the break--before a wall of static and synthesizers takes us home. And home is a little nicer place to be after taking a ride on Spirit If...

Like horror films or ghost stories, the upside of ADULT.’s brand of dark paranoia is its visceral thrill; it’s as nasty as electro can get whilst maintaining a remnant of a reassuring pop edge.

This isn’t an album to expand musical horizons, as much as it might expand a few minds. Yet it’s deeply enjoyable and more often than not thrilling to hear a band mouthing “We don’t care” over and over before showing two riff shaped fingers to the naysayers.

If Paris, Texas concerns itself with flat desert landscapes then Amplifying Host makes the sea its home, with a too-steady rhythm always threatening to halt the potential for a clear reflection on the infinite horizon.

The National Health gives the likeable quintet a firm footing from which to stop their seemingly inevitable decline.

The comparative simplicity of these songs makes this a more of a compelling curiosity piece, rather than the explosively satisfying--potentially classic--albums that both of these bands have in them as separate artists.

As a debut album, it shows great promise and potential for what’s to come, as she develops her own style as an artist.

Despite its heavy subject matter, this record sparkles and whirrs in a way that is very easy to fall in love with.

For longtime fans, a dubbed-out Grace Jones begets an exotic retelling of her myth, like painting a Sherman tank in watercolours - sure it's pretty, but under those runny dub brushstokes is hidden a killing machine.

There are moments of brilliance; sketches on a theme but with no real conclusion.

Waterloo To Anywhere might not redeploy any cultural guidelines, but take it at its own merits and you may be pleasantly surprised.

ike all the tracks on 24/7, exercise in precision from the Icelanders, German style. Not Swiss. There is no neutrality here. Every loop and bassline employed on the album has an eye to a tension held just out of view.

Sometimes it can feel like wading through mucky water, but it’s far from a bad trip; more like a damn fine party that will no doubt find its home in many fields during the summer months.

It's frustrating, because if you took Our Ill Wills' best moments and condensed them into an EP we'd easily be talking an eight or nine, but as it is, the second Shout Out Louds LP is a Jekyll and Hyde record that ultimately flatters to deceive.

Chambers is a beast. A glorious black hole of modern romanticism.

In the end, what was once an exceptional record is now merely a rather good one. That’s a real shame, but it can’t entirely derail Alphabeat and their purist pop vision.