The highs of Fade, Queens and Better Love variously recall Arcade Fire and The Flaming Lips in euphoria mode, while the lows plumb eerie depths akin to Big Star's Third. [Feb 2022, p.89]

His voice surprises. [Jan 2022, p.88]

Shimmering debut. [Mar 2022, p.90]

There is a confidence and intensity at UCLA that explains why that concert was an under-the-counter favourite. [Jun 2022, p.96]

What makes it great is something else - an energy and a vibe that give the strange sensation you're there with them. [Oct 2022, p.84]

CookUp highlights Gendel's daring interpretative strengths. [Apr 2023, p.87]

Has much nuance to gild its inimitable energy. [May 2023, p.88]

Her most beautiful [music] in decades. [May 2023, p.87]

The emphasis more on fractured, abstract improv rater than frenetic carousing. Interesting stuff, for sure. [May 2023, p.89]

Though shorter and lighter than 2018’s magnificent Dirty Computer, it delivers its full measure of pleasure. Doing just what it says on the tin, a 21st century pop peak. [Sep 2023, p.89]

The 10 tracks of Brain Worms don't outstay their welcome, but as the title suggests, they do linger. [Aug 2023, p.84]

Coming in at just 28 minutes. .... But the grand old man of Afrobeat is on fine form throughout, challenging the horns and bass to follow his lead. [Aug 2023, p.83]

Hatfield eschews radical reinventions, but her peeling away of the more finessed layers surrounding Lynne's indestructible melodies/chord sequences works a treat on Can't Get It out Of My head, Strange Magic and Telephone Line. [Nov 2023, p.92]

Musically, the spectral sound lies between Fever Ray at their least forbidding and the shadows cast by David Lynch soundtracks. [Mar 2024, p.90]

With percussionist Sam Clayton growling the vocals here,they bathe in the blues, immersed in classics by masters Muddy Waters, Willie Dixon and Little Walter. [Jul 2024, p.89]

Maisha builds on the old man's legacy by digging deeper into their background while allowing British producers Oli Barton-Wood and Tom Excell to add further layers in the mix. [Jul 2024, p.86]

Ultimately, the only benchmark springing to mind is the similarly-styledearly-'80sFranco-Belgians Antena. Feu De Garde is that good. [Jun 2024, p.88]

Fielding love songs, existential ruminations and anthems of solidarity and resistance, The Auditorium Vol. 1 finds rap’s self-proclaimed James Baldwin sermonising in the key of life on its every glory and struggle, offering hope amid the darkness and remaining a voice of mature wisdom in a rudderless world. It’s one of his very best. [Sep 2024, p.90]

Much of Ill Times Andrew Perry swings by like a more ’80s-fixated Black Keys (particularly yowler Fool For You), with Kenny-Smith unforeseeably excelling on the mike as a soul man, exorcising paternal bereavement (Dud) and the title track’s all-pervasive life agony. Old Transistor Radio busts out P-Funk proto-hip-hop, but there’s sufficient finesse here to make this team-up a keeper. [Sep 2024, p.93]

’60s Mod club faves including thrilling takes on The First Cut Is The Deepest and Angel Of The Morning. [Dec 2024, p.94]

Stein steers these heavy songs with an admirably light touch. [Jan 2025, p.89]

Add in lyrics that could make Brian Wilson weep and here is an album equally suitable for long winter nights and bright summer parties. [Jan 2025, p.89]

Aside from Jump Out's nightmare car ride ("Cell phone's dead, neighborhood is dark/what's the plan now?"), even the occasional rockers aim for atmosphere rather than combustion, yet Furman's trademark anger and angst find a way through. [Jun 2025, p.85]

Their onslaught harbours moments of intense, unlikely beauty, while theirs surface attack is a testament to hardcore's enduring power to shock and thrill. [Sep 2025, p.82]

Their ability to serve up soulful, clearly hard-lived songs - think bespoke merge of Gram Parsons, Glen Campbell, Todd Rundgren, Fleetwood Mac and Supertramp - without sounding kitsch is quite some feat. [Sep 2025, p.83]

Sherwood's most thrillingly exploratory solo album so far. [Oct 2025, p.83]

Intergalactic longing underpins Banh Me, its closing synth solo reaching blindly, hopefully into the endlessness of Space, while Out In The Black finds his Captain Curt using his isolation amid the stars doe some powerful internal reckoning. [Oct 2025, p.84]

There are meanders and lulls. Yet for a record intended to reflect and connect Lateral and Luminal, Liminal stands up on its own, not so much a final destination as a buzzy, fluid crossing-place for Eno and Wolfe's ideas. [Dec 2025, p.79]