Apocalypse rears its head in bare-bones instrumentation, reverberating synths and lyrics that hunt for a meaningful future. [Nov 2019, p.89]

Carla Dal Forno's newest release sounds strangely fragile and vulnerable. ... Interspersed with exquisitely forlorn Eno-esque instrumenetals. [Nov 2019, p.95]

Soroor is the star of this set. ... Her pre-relocation stuff--even her Afghan Star audition is online--is always interesting, but this is a whole new level. [Oct 2019, p.86]

Its uvowedly less manic, but uknowhatimsayin¿ still cuts deep. [Nov 2019, p.93]

The duo shine as a beacon of warm and quirky outsiderdom in a rising tide of cookie-cutter Nashville Americana. [Nov 2019, p.90]

Worth the 10-year wait. [Nov 2019, p.91]

This is a sparse, minimalist ode to joy. [Nov 2019, p.88]

Behind the parachute silk and dry ice, the smoke and mirrors, stands a record in high emotional definition, its outline becoming sharper by the second. [Nov 2019, p.92]

Anderson's typically earnest, if uncharacteristically earnest, readings of Buddist sutras punchuate proceedings, and a pervading transcendence lingers long after the music has ceased.[Nov 2019, p.89]

It's an absorbing listen. [Nov 2019, p.108

Often described as old beyond his years, on Fires For The Cold Tolchin has truly grown up. [Nov 2019, p.88]

This second LP moves country into enterprising, occasionally spooked spaces. [Nov 2019, p.96]

Gripping and energetic record. [Nov 2019, p.91]

Isn't quite a match for last year's career-topping Broken Stay Open Sky. [Nov 2019, p.86]

The album's schizoid ruse is neatly summed-up by Make Art Not Friends, which makes its wondrous metamorphosis from lithe dance track to all-American rocker in just under six minutes. [Nov 2019, p.86]

Giles Martin hasn't dug up Abbey Road; but his subtle improvements have smoothed out the odd bump. [Nov 2019, p.103]

With its transforming moods and quiet beauty, Stars Are The Light might just be Moon Duo's finest to date. [Oct 2019, p.83]

Interesting as the Wallace mixes are, the band is most compelling thrashing through Talent Show and I Won't, live in Milwaukee. [Nov 2019, p.102]

The lack of personal revelations that brought nuance and light to 2016's Made In The Manor often makes these vivid, grim depictions of inner city strife uncomfortable listening. [Nov 2019, p.89]

Morse Code is more concerned with our collective lost soul rather than individual anxiety. [Nov 2019, p.86]

Armon-Jones's fiery soloing is intrinsic to the headnoddable whole. [Oct 2019, p.91]

An experimental and deeply idiosyncratic record. [Oct 2019, p.90]

[Alice Moki Jayne's] one-hour length is rather testing. The 29-minute 8 Spring Streeet is more structured and achieves a thrilling momentum. ... 35 minutes in [Galaxies (Sky)], the 12-strong, 12-string "guitar army," directed by Moore hit a breathtaking peak. It feels like a spectacular end, but then there are still over 20 minutes to go. [Oct 2019, p.86]

The Talkies is a scarifying, perverse noise-rock treat. [Oct 2019, p.85]

Radiating breezy melancholic warmth and lonely midnight chills. [Oct 2019, p.89]

A second set of tuneful snark. [Oct 2019, p.92]

It's tasteful and meticulous throughout, but the longer, more adventurously songs exert a greater grip on the imagination. [Oct 2019, p.91]

Everything on Sinematic is huge, layered, expertly grooved and overladen with Robertson's parched voice hamming up lyrics which offset the standard portentousness of a rock great sermonising from the Mount with underspun True Crime yarns like I Hear You Paint House, Shanghai Blues and the Orson Wells tribute, The Shadow. [Oct 2019, p.84]