While Puny will likely draw few new fans into Neville's unique sound world, those who have long fallen under the spell of his corroded Kiwi fuckery will be rapt yet again.

They're not breaking significant new ground here, but neither are they standing still.

However it started, this joint project evolved into something unexpectedly powerful, and that it would be a shame if it stopped here.

By blurring the lines of his influences, Wymond Miles has been able to create an album that is very much a reflection of his own vision and personality.

Though their formula has changed scant little over the past three decades, it has lost little of its potency.

It's a welcome venture, for sure, and just like all those previous Hot Chip records, In Our Heads won't go unmoved to.

Wallpaper Music is a lot more complicated than it seems, and those complications give it a depth and resonance that most garage punk records can't muster.

Halo's voice, pronounced in the mix, artfully mangled, purposely unperfect, reaching at unreachable notes, and occasionally beautiful, is far from a relief. Whether this is riveting or off-putting is for each listener to decide.

Overall, Dub Egg isn't as strong as The Young's debut, Voyagers of Legend, but second-album jitters aren't the problem. If anything, The Young have a little too much confidence in their style. By the time the finale drifts into its dissipating breakdown, it feels a song too long.

It's scattered, without a singular vision, and successful nonetheless.

A little older and a little more experienced, the sound of Claro here is slower in BPM but more graceful as a result.

Early music is fascinating to people in a way that goes deeper than anything else, and for musicians and artists, all those early things spill out in the things we make. Gonzalez does that here in a fun and remarkable way.

As deeply rooted in American tradition as that sound is, it is never straightjacketed by nostalgia.

Throughout, Sylvian's songs retain their peculiar emotional coloration, of tension bubbling just under the surface.

It's good to hear a group continue to challenge themselves without kicking their strengths to the curb.

Even if The Diver is too lacking in originality for many, it does what it says on the tin, with verve, energy and a keen sense of what went before.

Hit Parade is such a pleasure, well made and artfully played, deeply felt but never mushy.

Overall, though, the mood on Fear Fun is consistent in its constant fluctuations; it's eerie when it needs to be and just familiar enough to lure in the listener.

Everything else seems comparatively flat and unsurprising; while the components of the individual songs are different, the results are of a kind, like a set of recipes using the same ingredients.

You can feel him, almost, willing the elements of words, drums and bass to come together in a music that is more than the sum of its parts.

To that end, the most interesting moments are the endings, and the most interesting song on a whole is the title-track that concludes the EP.

Perlas is a lovely, understated album, sure in its stride but happy to wander, and somehow peaceable and playful, even as the songs hymn broken hearts.

A few tracks wisp away into nothingness, but on work like "Your Heart is a Twisted Vine," Nadler approaches timelessness as well.

"Third Mouth" is arrestingly pretty, with its delicate guitars and looming, swelling synth notes, but also unfathomable.

Mostly, though, the record shows off Grass Widow's continued ability to hone their own style.

Sprawling but consistently clean and light, Among the Leaves is sprightlier than much of Kozelek's previous work.

Ufomammut has a compositional focus and restraint that frames the sonic elements well. An excellent continuation of their recent work.

True with its fey, reverb-soaked vocals, its synths and the jangle that recall the late 1980s/early 1990s when college rock started to segue into indie rock, is fun and catchy and worthy of an audience.