There is a lovely, childish innocence to how much fun you can hear them having on this record, revisiting the music that once made them dream of making music their life’s work.

Starboy is fine, it’s grand and it will do, and it really should be so much more.

It’s exhausting. And while collecting and devouring his albums is probably a more satisfying journey, to be delivered this trove of Fifties big band funk and perverted doo-wop, and to see it spiral out into interstellar space-jams in a stop-motion fashion is a huge thrill. Singles provides the first real opportunity for an audience to hear how Sun Ra became Sun Ra.

As a whole, Remain Calm dies too quickly, leaving the listener hanging on the sandy, sunset-lit horizon of 'Mob of Waters'; 'I’ll Keep Going' stretches its melancholic (and mostly static) air a minute too long; and while the concept of 'Xhill Stepping' as dissected electro amuses on paper, its dry deserted dancehall yields nothing but empty space.

You Want It Darker is a succinct journey into the psyche of a man who knows his career is at an end, but that isn’t going to stop him going out on a high.

Though it would have been nice to feel a greater sense of ownership, it’s a solid enough new chapter for a group who always kept it light, so why change all that much now?

It may not be perfect, or even great, but Pete Doherty has somewhat surprised with Hamburg Demonstrations by proving to a world increasingly less interested in his antics that, when given the chance, he can still pen a tune or two. Maybe just try including a few more 'bangers' in the next album Pete, eh.

By track five Hardwired has already showed off all its tricks, and I find myself quite tempted to show my discontent by going to listen to Slayer instead.

The arena-filling sound that runs through modern music owes something to Bon Jovi, but This House… comes across more like their third-tier spiritual successors, comprised of forgettable dance-rock and schmaltzy slow-burners loaded with endless platitudes and those echoey, staccato guitar lines that bands do when they want to sound big.

More often than not, there’s a controlled confidence and sensitivity behind each note that makes for a powerful delivery. Rumer should be praised for taking on such a feat, handling the weight of the songs, and producing something filled with raw emotion, maturity and depth.

The details rest comfortably in the background and add only to a sense of ambience, not to a bold artistic statement.

In this latest instalment in the Late Night series, Holmes seems to have scored an origin story of sorts, in inimitable fashion, snatches of places and time woven among some breath-taking selections, passing through the present moment as observed with an eagle eye, before being let to peace until called upon again. 



Even now, Fuzzy Logic hasn't dated and certainly doesn't sound as though it was made 20 years ago.

Scott Litt's crisp, clean production always had a plangent directness that suited Out of Time perfectly, and any remastering tweaks are pretty imperceptible. Disc two here is entirely comprised of demos, many of them instrumental, and certainly not something to repeatedly listen to in a single sitting.

The danger of a concept album, is it can end up sounding like a mismatched collection of tunes that have been lumped together because they fall under the same umbrella. Romare has avoided this trap by creating a body of work that expertly weaves through all the subtleties of falling in and out of love, and everything in between.

'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.

While getting the most out of this work takes a couple listens with at least one (simultaneous) read through with all your concentration, it’s worth every second and every bit of energy.

Everything about Jessica Rabbit is visceral--full-force drum slams, the slick claps, Miller’s steely slabs of guitar, lyrics replete with bombs, knives, and natural disasters.

Some of Loscil’s best, most menacing, most uncompromising work.

Highway Songs feels both like an underwhelming experiment with moments of greatness, as well as a highly personal piece which is almost impossible to penetrate.

Compulsion Songs highlights each individual element of The Lucid Dream's make-up and like its predecessor, takes the listener on a journey that is never predictable but always rewarding.

It’s easy to call XAM Duo a Hookworms side project, but to be honest, these days it kind of feels like Hookworms are the side project, not the other way round.

The feeling [is] that nothing here belongs to Robbie Williams, that he’s officially completely interchangeable, that he’s become trapped in a maze of his own making, and all of the noise seems so very quiet now.

This is the album 2016 deserves, whether it finds it a particularly pleasant listen or not.

While Ween’s subtlety was never their selling point (but instead a delicious present undertone that added to the comedic effect) The Deaner Album also makes it clear that any poignancy and lightness of touch they did deploy came from Gene.

The real talking point is the poise with which Honeyblood have carried off a record on which they seem to have so completely trusted their instincts.

Its great moments really are great, and shouldn’t be underestimated. However, when an album is bookended between two potential song of the year contenders with little to grasp in between, it’s difficult to really get too invested in this record.

In summary, Third World Pyramid could be renamed 'Business As Usual'. However, when business is as productive and efficient as The Brian Jonestown Massacre have been throughout the majority of their existence, it can only be a positive thing.