If Antonoff can add more of his own personality into songs as beautifully crafted and well produced as these, they could unleash something special.

In The Wild has some super solid additions to any electronic music playlist--the singles mentioned previously are pretty damn hot--but exploring it front-to-back is simply too much to handle.

Less inquisitive and much more personal [than 'Silence'], Security Screenings' giddy mosaic of psychedelic disorientation has the morning-after effect of tweezing dream from memory.

It may not make the strongest impact initially, but repeated listens reveal more in the way of deep thought and renewed optimism for tomorrow.

By virtue of the last track sitting in such stark, depressive contrast to the rest, Spiera probably accidentally, but definitely effectively, makes you want to skip back to the start - an analogy for the underlying feelings he gives away over Beau Velasco.

LP4, without a shadow of a doubt, is the most self-indulgent, unpredictable record of the year so far.

A brightly uplifting record.

Long Black Cars retains a common sense of cohesive purpose throughout.

Rateliff works best exploiting the depth and range of his voice against a spacious backdrop that doesn’t have to be downtempo to be dull.

This won’t go down as one of his classic recordings, but nevertheless The Traveller is an enjoyable journey that shows its narrator still has plenty to say.

It’s certainly a confident step-up from Garageband Superstar and if more of Hibberd’s musical personality is allowed to shine through next time around, she could produce an even better album.

This is the sound of a talented songwriter doing what she’s very good at doing. This particular palace is festooned with treasures.

For anyone who still thinks Cast are nothing more than a band specialising in meat-and-potatoes jangly indie pop, Yeah Yeah Yeah demonstrates why they’ve endured so long over the years.

This album’s half-in-half-out approach is unsatisfying.

Asher is manifestly talented, so perhaps Aquaria is best described as a tentative testing of the water before his next big production job. But there’s not a lot of fun to be had by the listener here.

Unfortunately Sonic Highways only delivers occasionally.

Shotter's Nation has no stand-out moments. Delivery is about the best of the bunch, but it's no rival to anything The Libertines ever did.

The Front Bottoms here have underperformed with what is a tiresome collection of repetitive songs that don’t require much effort to listen to.

It’s never dull and is sometimes quite extraordinary, taking multiple turns as it goes in order to keep listeners on their toes. Supreme Cuts is a scarce example of an artist moniker that well manages to sum up its own album.

DSVII pulls off what it sets out to accomplish with aplomb: it is a pleasant album full of lush instrumentation and suites of sound that are gently evocative. If at times the record feels a little too safe, this feeling is punctured before long by an irresistibly cute melody or a chord sequence that resolves in just the right way, and the listener is drawn back into the pastel world that M83 create here.

There are several false starts during The Kills’ fifth effort and the execution does not always quite match the intention, but for the most part it’s a successful return for the duo.

What's remarkable is how well it all works--no glitches, no hiccups, just 10 tracks of mind-broadening quirk.

Often interesting and occasionally moving, and at a compact 40 minutes, Maze Of Woods certainly doesn’t outstay its welcome and steers well clear of self-indulgence.

Clearly Sheff is at something of a crossroads in his life and his world view is changing; perhaps he doesn’t quite know how best to make everything fit together just right. Given time, there are moments of this album that will shine, it’s just a shame there’s so few of them. 


Oh Fortune is a luscious wall of sound, one that should see the criminally underrated Canadian featured more regularly alongside the heavyweights.

Here’s Willy Moon is an exciting debut from someone who’s trying to break the pop mould, several genres at a time.

[A] chaotic, unwieldy mess.

Very occasionally there is an element of mediocrity and you do feel that they could easily raise themselves to the next level, but for now this is another delicious helping of Apple Pie. Tuck in.

While Mumford And Sons may not excel as urbane, multi-dimensional songsmiths, they succeed by virtue of their sheer, unabashed wholeheartedness.

It contains nothing noteworthy, nothing to grab the listener's attention, and will have few going back for repeated listens.

A collection of gentle, sun-kissed pop guaranteed to be easy on the ears.

Communion’s minimal song titles are indicative of a no-nonsense approach to song writing--but like most good pop songs they unpeel different layers of production with repeated listening.

At its best, Motordrome serves as a reminder of why she deserved that success, and why she still deserves attention today.

While it's not a classic album, Ukulele Songs is a lively and enjoyable LP that easily warms the cockles.

In stepping outside of her recent comfort zones Kylie sounds so relaxed and liberated that it's difficult to escape the sense of untapped potential.

It provides evidence the Persson is capable of some breathtaking moments. And indeed there are a few such moments on Animal Heart, if not as many as might have been hoped for.

Hockey are not yet the finished article and are still finding their sound, but judging from Mind Chaos they're having a bloody laugh looking for it.

It’s a honey-coated gem of funk-infused pop, and when it shines, it’s a disco ball, a ’70s disco full of glorious hooks, where Gikling and Santos’ vocals balance one another in the most beautiful way.

Confessions Of A Romance Novelist showcases The Anchoress as an artist of bold intent and kaleidoscopic ability. It is hard to believe there will be many more interesting, or better, debut albums in 2016.

Seeing Other People initially appears slick and self-obsessed, very nearly to a fault. But scratch below the surface and there’s tongue-in-cheek humour.

Steve offers a simple, risk-free avenue to access a very deep, very meaningful cultural history that is seemingly inaccessible to newcomers at first glance. Put simply, you’d have be pretty miserable to think it wasn’t harmless fun, and if it turns one person on to the real thing, then it’s definitely worth it.

The one big drawback of Gold Dust is the danger it may provoke a 'so what' reaction, simply because for all of its polish, it doesn't really take the listener anywhere that interesting.

The songs and melodies may be brighter, but there is a nagging sense throughout that something special has been lost somewhere in the process.

Higher Truth may not quite reach the heights of his best work, but it ensures that Scream was no more than a blip in his solid back catalogue.

There are the seeds of two worthwhile projects here, but no chance of them ever uniting under the Major Lazer banner.

Fuelled by more than a decade of experience, Conduit sees Funeral For A Friend unleash an excitingly fresh attitude resulting in a record that could so easily be mistaken for an LP released by a band over a decade their junior.

The last three Art Brut albums gradually moved away from the energy and enthusiasm of Bang Bang Rock & Roll, but with Wham! Bang! Pow! Let’s Rock Out they sound like a band having more fun than ever before. All three of those exclamation marks are entirely justified.

Supervision is at times frustrating – an avoidable misstep here, an overindulgence there. But it also contains some of La Roux’s best music to date, music that’s witty, danceable and endearing all in one.

The double album is a difficult thing to pull off, but considering the anticipation before the release of Biffy Clyro’s sixth LP, the trio have done a fine job.

This is simply a collection of well-crafted songs, honestly and simply arranged and delivered, and as such very much worth a listen.

As a whole, Weathervanes is a largely successful and ambitious trip into uncharted territory for the band, and despite its somewhat saccharine sheen, the album wears well with multiple listens and creates a spooky, dreamlike economy of its own.

Ultimately, Lenses is a masterly album and Soft Metals’ brand of inventive, ghostly electro is a welcome break from the flood of brainless EDM that’s cluttering up airwaves and dancefloors everywhere at the moment.

It's less digestible but it's tauter, more metallic and yes, industrial.

It may not be particuarly original or challenging, but there's enough positive signs here to bode extremely well for the future. The sound of 2008? And beyond, we'd imagine.

Due to the short duration of many of these tracks, it all feels a bit lightweight and insubstantial.

In the end the record greatly exceeds its perceived strengths, building and out-doing itself over its 40 minutes.

Howler, when at their best, produce simple, but infectious, dirty rock music that oozes confidence and a nonchalant swagger.

It's the sound of past and future uniting to good effect--and Kasabian's strongest statement yet that they're in this for the long haul.

There are a couple of occasions when Goldfrapp's new relaxed attitude shades into lazy songwriting: Dreaming and Hunt are bland. But overall Head First is skilful pop designed for adults.

The next obstacle for Wavves will be deciding whether to ditch the bedroom and work in an actual studio, but for now these lo-fi pop gems are more than enough to be getting on with.

The dynamic has more in common with Verlaine's best (known) work, even if the drama isn't as fully realised.

Mythomania is overdriven, with sparks flying from the bolts in its neck and fruit machine cherries lining up in its vacant eye sockets. But it sounds perfect somehow.

It's the finest of Fink's songwriting albums to date, building on the promise shown in Biscuits For Breakfast with a confident assurance of his talent and in what he has to say.

If you're a fan of her previous work, or even just like some good old-fashioned, earnestly well-crafted songs, then this is an honourable addition to the genre.

The feeling remains, however, that Ivory Tower the album will be at its most effective when the visuals come in to play. Many of its instrumentals lack an essential element of either melody or art, so it's safe to assume they will come to life better on screen.

With much to commend them and their sound, Chapel Club may not have the newest or freshest set of ideas on the block, but the inner confidence coursing through their veins suggests they are open to invention and greater emotion on future records.

Welcome Reality gets it half right--this is a decent debut which more than lives up to the hype, but is so mind-blowingly out-there that any suggestion that it resembles 'reality' ought to launch a Trading Standards investigation.

Covered had the makings of something great, but ends up sounding far more uneven than it should have.

No Compass Will Find Home is yet another curious listen from Merz.

Not without fault, the album is a solid, cohesive work--and sign of The Cave Singers’ electrifying potential.

Fans of her debut may be a bit bemused, but this is a new direction that could lead to great things.

By the end of the heartfelt Touched By You MNEK has truly made his mark with this ambitious masterwork of an album. After years in the background, he’s proved that he’s the full package.

If not all of this debut lands too firmly at times, there’s still enough evidence on Sorry I’m Late that people will soon remember Mae Muller for more than that Eurovision disappointment.

It turns out to be the best thing they've ever done--yes, even better than Silent Alarm.

This collection of quaint, feel-good numbers is not going to set the world alight, but it offers something warm and comforting to come home to.

New Chain is unmistakably chillwave, undeniably fashionable within the American music scene right now, but doesn't half make you yearn for a bit of sunshine.

This is a hyperactive but genuinely exciting listen.

In Perfect View, Lust For Youth have immersed fuzzed-up ’80s synthpop in an unnerving ambience, infused the whole thing with shades of house and come up with an album that’s a challenge, but a completely mesmerising one.

For a guy who nails the ’60s and ’90s indie pop sound so well, he didn’t do quite enough research; at least not enough to make an individual statement that’s unique and captivating for the rest of us.



A Productive Cough is not a bad album, but it’s not Titus Andronicus’ greatest moment. Part of the problem comes from the high expectations set by the band’s previous work, and to some degree the drawn out jam sections that occasionally go on just a little too long.

Work is by no means a bad album; it's just a disappointing one. For all their early promise, the band have made a record that reflects its title and monochrome artwork all too literally.

2:54 is deep and dramatic, taut and poised. It stands up to repeat listens with a unperturbed grace and a wonderful habit of showing you something new and unheard each time.

It's a frustrating listen, ultimately. There's enough promise here to suggest a band full of potential, but you get the feeling that they won't be breaking out of that cult status anytime soon.

A welcoming listen, it begs for repeated plays, each time opening itself up further.

All in, this is a welcome return.

Judging by Rose Windows’ now final album, the shame is that differences, whatever they were, could not be overcome because a growing, developing collection of musicians was just beginning to dent the consciousness of a much larger audience. Instead of eagerly anticipating their next move, we are therefore left to cling to their last hurrah.

There’s far more good to be found on Red Flag than there is bad--this feels like the genuine follow-up to Saints And Sinners that Studio 1 should have been.

At times Drums Between The Bells is too busy, too packed with musical style and incident, but its patchwork nature reveals itself over subsequent listens to be a largely rewarding one.

This album’s seeming eschewal of depth and nuance of meaning leaves it feeling ultimately hollow.

Some may find Tuttle’s hushed vocals a bit too insubstantial to last over the course of a whole album, and others may be turned off by all the psych trimmings. Yet fans of MMOSS will find much to satiate any need for a new fix and there’s enough evidence on this debut to suggest that Tuttle could well start to emulate those he holds in thrall, given time.

The Ghost Who Walks is by no means a poor album. There are lovely moments littered throughout and for the most part Elson is a convincing performer. Having said that, it's not an album that lives on in the memory, and the feeling that you've heard much of it before is hard to shake.

This is a creditable follow-up from a band re-establishing and confirming their status as one of UK music's more enjoyable and innovative bunch of eccentrics.

From start to finish this is an album that possesses an alluring pull. Even when things are starting to sound a little sinister, the perfect guitar work, woozy vocals and hazy ambience that Tall Firs create is hard to ignore.

It manages to stay true to the band's short-form indie excitement whilst also revealing further virtues well into repeat spins.

The results of The Place We Ran From are ultimately pretty mixed. To start with the positives, it is a lot of better than expected and there are some genuinely decent pieces of songwriting. However, to enjoy those you have to wade through a thick fog of filler that either doesn't really go anywhere or just doesn't connect.

Ultimately, this is a nice, pleasant debut album which will make the perfect accompaniment to a fair few summer barbecues this year, but which may not be listened to much once the grey skies and dark nights of October are upon us.

It's an album that is perfectly inoffensive, but in the end, there is nothing here that hasn't been done before--and done much better.

There’s no pretense, no illusion. This is two best buds having a rollicking good time.