If you’re looking for a short, fun thrill from a gang of likeable oiks with all the grace of a one-legged camel, talk to The Chats.

As well as being excellent, Local Honey is evidence that the man himself is able to adjust his songwriting to his circumstances without compromising in its quality. It all makes for a seriously sweet listen that reaffirms the Jersey boy as a storyteller and songwriter par excellence.

It’s Pearl Jam’s most incensed album since 2006. It’s their most musically inventive since 1998. And, by virtue of its themes, it is their most gravely needed of their entire career. It is, in short, a triumph.

Across 12 tracks, it does get a little samey, but then again, individual songs aren’t the entire point here. This is a record that creates an atmosphere around itself, a world of its own, without sounding twee or like something from a real ale festival. A curio, maybe, but a heartfelt and skilfully realised one from a genuinely unique artist.

It feels like tectonic plates have shifted for the band with The Ghost Of Orion, ushering in the dawn of a new era for My Dying Bride.

They deliver a raw brand of garage-punk that isn't exactly new but remain fresh in these hands. [14 Mar 2020, p.73]

This is an album that will still stand as a monument to just how scaldingly intense music can be.

For the most part, Ice plays with middle-age, cranking up the grumpy-old-man persona he established on 2014’s Institutionalized with tongue-in-cheek glee and riding it through the exploitation movie excess of Thee Critical Beatdown.

Frequently bursts with the impactful emotion now expected from its creators. [11 Jan 2020, p.57]

This new solo album is at its strongest when Greg finds new ways to express himself. Where there are traces of the Whigs’ soul power, as on Sempre and The Tide, it’s hard not to compare the songs unfavourably to his day job.

An emotional ride that's hard to tune out. [22 Feb 2020, p.55]

Humanist finds former Exit Calm man Rob Marshall crafting a brooding songbook fuelled by echoing post-punk guitars, steely beats and electronic embellishments.

There’s life in the old dog yet, and what’s more he’s learned some new tricks, which can only be applauded at this point. Ordinary Man might end up being the full-stop on an extraordinary career. Let’s hope that’s not the case, but if it is, Ozzy is going out with as much fire and passion as he started with 50 years ago.

Often commercial and sometimes devoutly, intentionally un-commercial, Splid is a delightfully edgy album from a combustible unit that, here, sound as if they might blow at any second. Volatile, tuneful, raucous and unstable, it is the perfect rock’n’roll record from a genuinely unique band.

The music itself is minimalist, but still manages to conjure an intense darkness, aided by the haunting drawl of guitarist Reid Bateh. [15 Feb 2020, p.55]

It’s okay to not be okay, and Spanish Love Songs celebrate that with no small amount of knowing grouchiness here. The result is an album that’s not perfect – but those who get it will fall in love with it.

Frontman Tyler Connolly spends a little less time moping than previously, and throws in subjects such as domestic violence, racism and politics, but when the musical backing is this over-polished and ultimately mundane, it’s hard to care what he’s singing about.

Finding new ways to bring the heavy. [1 Feb 2020, p.55]

It’s a fun-packed, good-time brew, and if you’re looking to beat the January blues, Hurry Up And Wait’s party-starting fever is perfect.

The Texans still sound like a band capable of stealing hearts forever. [1 Feb 2020, p.55]

It's a hella mega good time from start to finish. [1 Feb 2020, p.53]

Arriving just at the right time for its message to feel truly resonant, Sorry For The Late Reply is a bold, brave, brilliant work.

10 tracks that are easily the weirdest, the boldest and – yes – most powerful material that the group have stuck their name on.

Occasionally, Thin Mind lacks the energy to truly achieve lift off, but maturity has given Wolf Parade room to roam. [11 Jan 2020, p.57]

As ever, the line between sincerity and mawkishness is down to the ear of the beholder, but maturity is creeping into Beach Slang’s songs of eternal punk rock youth, and here their bleeding heart is in the right place.

For every comparison you can make of individual moments, there is little here that you can honestly say you’ve heard before, and little that can be judged on traditional terms. But that’s what makes her such a fascinating force.

The rattling, almost post-rock cacophony that swirls around her, weaving in and out of chilling, eerily measured moments, makes for a spectacular, engulfing experience, too. [4 Apr 2019, p.71]

While it’s not a classic of the Corgan canon, it does feel like he’s enjoying himself immensely doing it. And we’re happy enough to hear that. [7 Dec 2019, p.53]