By far her best yet.

Bazan will never sound truly happy on record, but here he’s as content as anyone could have hoped for, and all the healthier for it.

Jules’ talents lie closer to the downhome folksiness of Cat Stevens, enlivened by an eye for detail previously thought the sole preserve of Elliott Smith.

It isn’t the place of a debut to straddle styles as diverse as harmony-drenched 60’s beat-soul, the shoegazing sound-paintings of the 80’s and relaxed futurism of now, yet this is their debut, and it covers all this and more.

At eighteen tracks it comes close to outstaying its welcome, but it doesn’t.

A significant broadening of the tonal spectrum notwithstanding, the outfit manages to keep their ferocity intact, although the malevolence is structured with a shrewd infusion of melodic vocals, flourishing experimental dynamics and a motherlode of striking riffs.

They’re the most unique band since The Van Pelt or At The Drive-In, with vocals comparable to the lyrical finesse of Tim Booth.

This is a perplexing album: two excellent singles, a few stellar moments of vicious riffage, but little to assuage that lingering sense of emptiness.

‘When It Falls’ is not an immediate album, it’s a slow burner and one day, after countless hours playing it in the background, you’ll hear something that makes you turn it up; that’s the moment that it hooks you.

Unfortunately, many of these mixes were submitted either by talented fans or lesser known professionals, and often they’ve removed much more than they’ve put in.

Often you’re left amazed at the fact that this is the work of just one man.

There’s plenty of impressive tongue-twisting here, but as the re-working of ‘Feel So Good’ illustrates, he’s even more impressive when he slips down a gear to work the ladies.

There’s little in the way of straightforward rock here[;] instead they have opted to renege on their commitment to flat-four crunch and embrace melodicism...and experimentalism.

This is music best heard in the dark, on your back.

Off-kilter, irreverent and unbelievably addictive.

‘Liberation’ is the most damning indictment of the Bush administration yet recorded, and it’s all subliminal. Magnificent.

There’s nothing even remotely punk-funk here, instead conventional structures are stretched, shattered and re-assembled.

It most probably won’t attract new fans, but Margo Timmins’ voice is as unique as Thalia Zedek’s, for example, and remains their greatest asset.

The melancholy on offer barely gets above the level of sixth form poetry, and though Wilson tries to sound impassioned he comes across as strained.

There’s something here that most - if not all - will find thoroughly refreshing and enchanting.

Though Auf Der Maur has run off with their blueprint and built it as seen, there’s raw passion and no little class here; Corgan and Love must be rueing their luck.

For the first time in nearly a decade Cypress Hill sound like they’re really enjoying themselves, just like they were in the beginning.

Their third album finds them immersed in light-hearted, yet imaginative hop ‘n’ soul, Parliamentarian funk and the fiery chants of lead single ‘This Way’.

Derivative and unfocused from every conceivable angle.

A confusing listen.

It’s gorgeous, moving and magnificent.