On Rapture he’s traded atmospherics for dominating vocals, making the stylistic leap towards ‘tell don’t show’ music. It’s a move that will undoubtedly bring Tropics to a wider audience, but robs the listener of emotional nuance and understatement; everything that made him interesting, back when he was still making music in his bedroom.

The rich production and ambitious, multi-faceted arrangements provided by White’s Spacebomb crew are the perfect foil for Prass’s soft, exquisite voice and expressive, tear-stained songs, such that the overwhelming impression of the LP is, against the odds, one of triumph; of beauty both wrangled out of and amplified immeasurably by loss.

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.

What’s striking though is that a band known for a very particular sound can produce such individually distinct pop songs, with equal aplomb, while remaining within their self-defined parameters of 'the Dutch Uncles sound'.

Like a beacon of light emerging at the outset of Spectres distorted vision, its audacious nature and ever-changing mood perfectly sums up Dying's idiosyncratic nature.

Citizen Zombie is a lot of fun, which is both a blessing and a curse.

Their debut was already loose enough, but EarthEE slackens to a level of shapelessness, and is gloomier with it to boot.

Ultimately, Brothers of the Sonic Cloth’s LP is so tasty, it’ll have you unashamedly coming back for seconds, and thirds, and fourths, and dessert, and a cheese course, and just one tiny little wafer thin mint.

Restarter is a severely underwhelming return from one of the foremost breakthrough guitar bands of recent years.

This is an often bold and sometimes brilliant offering, even if its heart is more mechanical than you may hope for.

The LP is repeatedly let down by its own exhibitionism.

The result is consistently fascinating and occasionally completely enchanting.

Sour Soul is sublime. Rather than standing around starstruck, BBNG have more than proven their worth as Ghostface’s backing band.

As a warm up exercise for Barât’s musical muscles and an honouring of a debt to The Jackals, Let It Reign is absolutely fine. But Libertines album number three will need to deliver a lot more than this.

It’s a messy record, in the best possible way: organic and live sounding, with few overdubs and little complication, tipping its hat constantly to its retro inspirationg.

Tthis is a solid, soulful effort from a performer plagued by so many issues; it’s just a shame that taking the emotions out of the mix, what we’re left with is essentially easy-listening.

Although the themes in the album vary hugely--uncertainty, fear, hope, regret--the quality and confidence of the music is consistent.

In truth, it feels rather lightweight, as do much of Ryan James and Tomas Greenhalf's more adventurous flourishes, seldom though they are. As the narrative unfolds, nothing arrives at the punch of promising earlier efforts.

It’s the unhurried nature of these improvisations which are their greatest strength. Couple this with his sharp ear for melody, not to mention his frequently unbelievable fingertips, and this album emerges as another incredibly strong outing for Sir Richard Bishop in a truly interesting and consistent discography.

The ten tracks here convey no pleasure, and lack any form of belief in their own urgency or desire to be adored.

Hayman has given us a beautifully crafted love-letter to the real humanity that is the soul and centre of socialism, both sad and sweet, melancholy and inspiring--a collection of songs that belong to everyone and cement Hayman’s place as a nationalised treasure.

Albums such as this one will often be defined as ‘difficult,’ and the love of its content will derive more from muso appreciation than genuine affection. Six Organs of Admittance have sidestepped this by crafting a piece of work that diefies categorisation: it feels mathematically precise, painstakingly composed, entirely freeform and joyfully performed.

While Transfixiation doesn't answer that question ["What have I become?"] specifically, it represents another giant step forwards in A Place To Bury Strangers' continual evolution.

The focus is there, the execution is there. It’s a record that delivers, satisfies, challenges and is occasionally sublime.

On the moments that they commit to one priority over the other, Crushed Beaks show an energetic flair which most likely translates to a blistering live sound. But when they try to split the difference, the results are middling on Scatter.

Some of their critics will remain unmoved, but the fact remains: Kodaline have acquired confidence in their abilities and are on top form throughout their second LP.

Whether the songs zip like ‘Ringfinger’ or sprawl like ‘Rainy Summer’, they all feel very much of one piece, giving them a cumulative strength beyond their individual merits.

For every one of the album's fumbled subtleties, there are several moments when The Districts feint at being great. Enough to show they’re flailing in the right direction.