Love You To Death is an album full of intelligent, sensitive pop songs, and at a time when the watermark for such music is pretty high anyway, it really does stand out from the crowd.

There's a distance to their music, as if they're floating away on the horizon, just out of reach. It's worth savouring them that way.

Most of the tracks here could have emerged at almost any point between the late 60s and now, but when you're confronted by the sheer bittersweet enthusiasm that van Pelt manages to squeeze into each one, it would be a little unfair to draw up a family tree.

It represents a substantial advance in sound and scope from Amidon’s earlier approaches to folk material.

Rather like that other, more famous, Conor - Oberst, of Bright Eyes fame - there's a sense of foundations being laid, in preparation for a career of real longevity. Hop on now, for this promises to be quite a ride.

Dear's tempos here are mostly slow, never rising above moderate, and the result is an anxious but exhilarating journey through the night.

Wasting Light sounds like the work of a band with something to prove, rather than the work of one of the biggest rock bands in the world.

The scenic route is where it's at--and there is plenty of that to enjoy on this illuminating record.

Each track melds into its predecessor and its successor, creating a mesmeric experience that truly captivates the attention and inspires awe at the sheer musicality of Thurston Moore.

While there are certainly all manner of influences on KOMPROMAT, this is an album of considerable depth and intellect that rewards careful investigation, and a well timed return from a band at the top of their game.

Williams doesn’t rely on heavy-handed sloganeering, and is more than capable of a light touch, administering impressionistic yet prescient lyrics that are indicative of his beginnings as a spoken word poet.

Rudi Zygadlo proves here that he is far more than an electro producer, and has delivered a second album that frequently captivates and often mystifies.

While he's certainly earned his right to experiment with genres - really, to do whatever the hell he wants - he's never so affecting or engaging as when he's reduced to his quivering roots.

The music is uniformly simple but beautifully effective. It sounds like what it is, one man telling you stories and weaving beguiling tales of distinct and not too distant lands through a carefully intricate and delicate soft rock tapestry.

It's All True, although slightly patchy, has a generous handful of these moments of inspiration.

A hugely impressive return from Drenge, who have once again produced a collection of songs that will leave you feeling dirty but, more importantly, completely satisfied.

The flipside to this slightly dark streak that permeates the album with its huge drum pulses and malfunctioning circuitry, is the gentle subtlety at work.

For all of its strengths, the album is somewhat let down by its monstrous length – 78 minutes, to be exact. That’s not to stay that Cunningham and his collaborators can’t hold the listener’s interest for the entire running time (they can), but that the whole experience can be overwhelming and a little draining.

There's no African or South American experimentation on display here, just a return to what Paul Simon does best - wonderfully wordy, literate songs wedded to some of the most lovely melodies you're likely to hear all year.

A bright, brief, crystalline work that is a more than worthy addition to one of the most consistently excellent catalogues in alternative music.

They have formed the most remarkable of pairings, crafting an album of such beauty that past reference is made redundant.

It's safe to say that Natasha Khan has once again managed to craft an album that ticks all the boxes, while also showing a maturity and evolution from her Mercury nominated sophomore album.

Many previous fans may be slightly put off by the lack of wild abandon and experimentation, but there is a newfound lucidity here that is ultimately more rewarding.

The 11 tracks are in fact roughly split between the folk/country side and the jazz/cabaret side, and this makes for an album that can at times dazzle with its omnivorous verve, but which also has a tendency to become disjointed.

May is a professional, measured and refined debut--and a near-perfect record.

It makes for a poignant, gentle album in the singer/songwriter tradition, with production that’s more elaborate than that of his former alias but not much more. The stories are genuinely endearing, the production creates an intimate feel, and with this album Ashworth has consolidated his reputation as a bedroom pop veteran.

A great deal of thought has gone into these covers, now transferred to her own private collection. That does mean not everyone will buy into some very individual takes on well-known songs, but with soul and body laid completely bare, no emotional stone is left unturned.

For deep and lasting inspiration, A Small Death is hard to beat.