The melancholy Tumbleweed sound become the sound of '70s country rock. [Jul 2017, p.100]

Intimate, timeless music. [Jul 2017, p.92]

The foggy nights of soul chronicled here lend Chastity Belt's bruised indie pop a weight that suits it. [Jun 2017, p.89]

As lush, escapist pop, Waiting On A Song is a triumph. [Jul 2017, p.90]

Naturally, every song is a fully formed gem underscoring Saint Etienne's unique way with setting reflective pop upon a dance floor chassis. [Jul 2017, p.86]

The results are appropriately cinematic and evocative. [Jul 2017, p.91]

[The remix disc] does a decent job of contextualising Leftism's legacy. But it's the originals that still burn with rare incandescence. [Jun 2017, p.100]

All of the new mix’s strengths are writ large here. Ringo is restored. The voices feel ‘properly’ balanced and positioned. And in general, where there was whimsy (the bête noire of most Pepper agnostics) the power of solid drums and central voices irons it out. ... It’s an album--maybe the album.

A diverse collective taking turns at the canon. [Jun 2017, p.94]

The Song Of Day And Night catches Jones aka Summertyme at his best. [Jun 2017, p.91]

Country-soul with luminous warmth. [Jun 2017, p.95]

The father-and-son combination is satisfyingly unpredictable, with a fresh, non-rock approach to some of the rhythms and unexpected shifts in style. [Jun 2017, p.86]

Resin Pockets plays like a found notebook of rapturous Proustian melancholy, everyday moments of dreamlike revelation assembled into weakly-strummed, frailly-sung almost-pop songs that embrace the beauty of transience and imperfection. [Jul 2017, p.87]

This young, Reading rock foursome offer hyperventilated hooks and heart-soaring breakdowns. [Jul 2017, p.96]

Meditative, twitchy, cerebral, the Heliocentrics are at once timeless and of the now. [Jul 2017, p.93]

The dynamic range of Elvin Suite--Part 1 and 2--composed by Watts and fellow legend Jim Keltner--proves that drummers can do more than bang on things. [Jul 2017, p.92]

It's the exclusives that made this a cornerstone of any grunge collection. [May 2017, p.106]

[A] mini-masterpiece. [Jul 2017, p.105]

Aided by Gabrielle Drake's spoken word and arrangements that vary between bare, the lyrical and the dreamy, it makes for a most moving collection. [Jul 2017, p.92]

More a growler than a singer, Ayisoba plugs in and lets rip from the start, his heavily rhythmic songs wasting no time on subtlety, his band driving the trance sounds home. [Jul 2017, p.91]

This is bruised, bruising music, intellectually satisfying, animalistic. [Jul 2017, p.91]

Painfully literal in its detailing of grief. [Jul 2017, p.91]

The 10 tracks here find the band bridging the gap between saloon singers and barroom rockers, the results playing like Frank Sinatra fronting The Replacements. [Jul 2017, p.90]

Too often, though, a combination of slight songcraft and waters' awkward tendency to sound simultaneously angry and platitudinous starts to wear thin. [Jul 2017, p.89]

There's no arguing with craftsmanship like this. [Jul 2017, p.88]

The backgrounds are rich, warm and authentic sounding, but the real power lies the potent, passionate vocal trinity. [Jul 2017, p.87]

Kids In The Streets sounds joyous, reflective, nostalgic and even grateful in places, with an upbeat swagger that comes from knowing you're making the album of your life. [Jul 2017, p.89]

So rich is their vocabulary of subtly shifting textures ad discreet melodies that lazy ambient cliche or factory setting keyboard predictability are entirely eschewed. [Jul 2017, p.92]