McBean... decided to have a go at everything. Luckily, he appears to be a natural. [4 Mar 2006, p.31]

Tove Lo’s fourth album sees the star largely stick the formula that made her successful in the first place, but that’s no bad thing: it features some of her best work in years as she boldly embraces new sounds and unusual collaborators. Exhilarating and fearless, Tove Lo has ensured she’s stayed relevant with a bold, brash and at often quite brilliant record.

Within this impressive, ambitious, often stupid whole, are moments of melthing human beauty. [29 Feb 2005, p.65]

Gerard Way has wiped the slate clean and started afresh, with invigorating results.

In pursuit of an authentic sound, Humberstone proves that she’s not only inhabiting her own space – and beckoning listeners in – but also building out the walls.

It’s a sun-drenched record of summer tunes that will sound even better when heard at festivals with a tinnie in hand. Yet look behind glittering shells of these tunes and you’ll find hugely personal stories, told with new strength and resilience.

The most promising debut of the year so far.

Its darkwave soundtrack is all the more sinister, sexy and thrilling for having visuals set to the sound.

A little bit new, but mostly the same, then. The Best Day is the refreshing sound of Moore addressing familiar musical themes with renewed energy.

This serves as an honest, vulnerable, and occasionally brutal reminder of what Tegan and Sara have always been best at.

Though ‘fun’ isn’t necessarily the first adjective that comes to mind taking stock of these finished covers, it’s evident that Angel Olsen had plenty of it delving into the emotive guts of each song. At times you miss the cheese of the originals, but this is a solid concept, extremely well-executed.

This year’s first great pop record bowls in with a rapturous celebration of the genre's rebellious, trashy potential (and a bottle of champagne and a pocketful of pills to boot).

There are plenty of hooks here, but nothing to make a festival tent bounce like ‘Boogie’ or ‘Gold’ can. It’s a small criticism, though, on an album that resets Brockhampton’s compass and sees them straying away from the danger of implosion that ‘Iridescence’ seemed to suggest.

Stripped to the bare bones of her soul and the sentiment, her truth shines--and there’s a beauty in that. The only thing holding it back is a lack of risk, but there’s still so much comfort in the familiar.

A strange, lovely trip.

Bahdeni Nami isn’t a bad record, exactly, but it’s not quite the best place to crack into Souleyman’s catalogue (which, if you believe estimates, stretches to a mindboggling 500 recordings).

There's little on PSB's album that matches the big twizzly dunce-hatted glory of their 'Very' peak. [20 May 2006, p.33]

When it works, as on 'Let Them Talk', it's a mongrel-pop joy. When it doesn't, as on the overloaded 'Venison Fingers', it's a mess.

There's a certain lack of substance throughout the album which isn't fully covered up by Rose's elegant stoner shimmying.

'Driving Rain' is supposed to be raw, spontaneous and unpolished, when in fact it's perfectly pleasant, unable to resist the McCartney default modes of jauntiness and sentimentality.

An understated classic: a triumph of delicacy over decibels. [19 Jun 2004, p.56]

Even if it gets a bit bedroom experimentalist, POS is Buck 65 with balls, and has more ideas and soul in one cut than an entire Fiddy wet shit.

Wall Of Arms sounds mostly effortless and unstudied.

There's a smorgasbord of top tunes here.

All in all, this isn't an album you can listlessly slam on to get yourself ready for a night out, but it is a satisfyingly rich project.

JBM’s electronically tempered woodsman folk is a blissfully eerie, emotional punch to the guts.

Elegant and unusual, this is a gem.

For her less conventional-sounding follow-up, she and producer Prince Fatty have beefed up the basslines, giving her tropical pop songs a dubby atmosphere.

While the band's long-standing interest in songs about monsters, vampires and zombies is absent, Fair's yelps of enthusiasm and lightning-strike guitar could wake the dead.

Slay-Z is a blast. What sets Banks apart from her peers is her ability to bounce effortlessly between genres.

Interspersed throughout are dark, ambient instrumentals ‘Machine Room’, ‘Aluminum’, ‘Waiting Room’ and ‘Voltage’. This adds an extra layer of claustrophobia and menace, but also feels like the band are padding out a very good eight-track album into 12 songs. Still that’s a minor quibble – as ‘Container’ is a masterful statement of intent destined straight for the top of your lock-down dance party playlist.

‘Love + Light’ feels like it soundtracks your entire night out – from your first steps into the club to arriving home after hours of raving.

Tinny edges became velvet borders, vintage synths took on new wave flavours and plush theatricality beckoned. ‘Host’, however, marks their emergence from their pupae stage.

‘CMFT’ isn’t the most profound or intense album Taylor has put his hand to, but it’s certainly the most fun. He sounds in love with life, a man finally free of his darkness.

It’s light and transcendent, but also grounded and assured of itself even in its most vulnerable moments.

Fans of Maltese’s typically lucid approach may find this impressionism frustrating, but it gradually builds an effective picture of fear. Here, his sense of scale is more nuanced and outward-facing than ever before, and in turn, Maltese’s writing will continue to become all the more captivating for it.

It remains to be seen whether Do Nothing can use the solid foundations of ‘Snake Sideways’ as a launching pad to ascend to the giddy heights of their initial promise.

Many of the digressions are compelling, however, the frequent changes in approach mean that its creators’ personality isn’t always easy to grasp. This mercurial quality is a result of several straightforward rock tracks that are noticeably weaker than the album’s finest moments.

There are magic moments, but the overall effect might make you drift off rather than have you on the edge of your seat.

Although his mission proves futile, he approaches it with a curiosity of spirit that makes ‘Along The Way’ a captivating and nourishing listen, less noodly than his early solo releases and more in the vein of the composerly streak exhibited on 2011’s ‘Get Lost’.

Nine of the ten songs are named after friends, and they’re samey and indulgent.

It wouldn’t be a Deerhoof album if there wasn’t a barrage of unexpected riffs, squeals and feedback littered across most tracks, as well as a few madcap lyrical excursions.

She’s made an album that sounds consistently inviting and sometimes exciting.

This is The Cribs’ best album to date.

It's nothing if not infectious.

Throughout she offers up rich, swirling instrumentals and intricate musical landscapes, crunchy chord progressions and twinkling chromaticism complemented by her confident, warm vocals.

Though the emotional details can get swept up in the wall of sound, ‘If Not Winter’ is still a triumphant debut – and more than anything, the sound of a young artist who’s still growing into herself.

Not a bad record then, but one that's debased by the disappointment of one of the UK's bright hip-hop hopes selling soul rather than surprises.

There are enough dreamlike melodies to sustain your attention rather than zoning out completely, but in reality it's all just very comfortable.

Sylvan Esso’s fourth offering doesn’t dwell in solitude, despair, or desire for escape. Instead, it resides in what is left after the darkness clears: tighter connections to the surrounding world and the people who populate it. To borrow Meath and Sanborn’s own words, the album is a bold and defiant example of what could happen when you walk back into the world, “wilder and stranger” than before.

Unadulterated genius--we're practically drooling.

Lynne’s melodic sparkle, as ever, acts as ELO’s warp drive. He expertly gives tired old genres shots of refreshing stardust.

There are some total gems on ‘Late Night Feelings’, which are occasionally marred by a handful of sleepy filler tracks. But in general Mark Ronson’s immense talent as both a producer and songwriter shines through. It’s bold, brilliant and genuinely interesting pop music.

A few good lyrics (“You’re in love with the future / I don’t know why”) and some bad (“Why don’t you listen to your momma? / She’s old”) stick out, but the narrative hook is stronger in theory than in practice. ... The music on ‘Raw Data Feel’ is the band’s best, catchiest and most focused to date.

Surf City spend the first third of Kudos hanging out with that same apathetic throng, but then surprise with a handful of genuinely exciting moments.

Like its cover, the Jean-Michel Basquiat artwork ‘Bird On Money’, it’s spiky but quite stunning. This is a cool album, the kind you begrudgingly grow to love, even if it never cared about you.

In August 2014, Los Angeles trio Wand released debut ‘Ganglion Reef’, a psychedelic record inspired by a make-believe island. They’ve maintained that imaginative approach for follow-up Golem, which is full of brain-bending riffs, effects and abstract lyrics.

It's a third album that avoids all the pitfalls of third albums: introspective without being self-pitying, expansive in scope without being pompous, exploring new directions without disappearing up its own arse.

They have returned hungry and wired to shake us out of our digital comas.

The assembled talent takes This Is The Kit’s traditional folk to the edge of the avant-garde.

When he tells us that “fame is a disease” on ‘Drive’ or laments being trapped in a “penthouse prison” on ‘Cry For Me’, these are hardly original ideas. But they do feel like authentic expressions of anguish from The Weeknd.

As ever, The Hold Steady achieve their best work when their playing is loose. When the songs are filtered through the bottom of a shot glass. When they sound like the best bar band in the best bar you didn’t know about until the moment that you found yourself in it at 3am in the morning. On the basis of ‘Thrashing Thru The Passion’, that band are back.

Mourn exhibits a young band fully aware of their own qualities: fierceness, confidence and brutally simple songwriting.

Frenzied excitement still prevails.

Weezer have delivered an album that’s intimate, thoughtful and resolutely human.

The resounding verdict is that it’s a surprising, but bold and brave progression from last year’s confused "Graduation."

There’s no jolting shock-of-the-new: there’s just reassuringly here, refining what they they do best.

AC/DC’s first album without their founding member is a crisp Brendan O’Brien-produced musical wrecking ball.

The doomed relationship cycle in eternal motion or the sound of a heart that won’t stay mended, Honeyblood is visceral pop music giving its prettiest snarl.

It's a fine build-up to the Selkirk quintet's fourth album, due out early 2013.

This is a pretty good Black Keys record that chiefly serves to underline how wedded they are to the fundamentals of their own process.

Too few tracks leave as forceful an impression however, and for all its added bells and whistles, Palme comes off more mildly quirky than exhilarating.


She’s every bit the equal of Bat For Lashes, Frida Hyvönen or any member of the Wainwright clan.

Hymn feels like the imaginary soundtrack to the film inside your head and is an outstanding work of epic beauty.

Assembled by the album's main beat-peddling prodigy, Lex Luger, they showcase a masterclass in reductionism; juggernauts of hulking, bruising, brick-to-skull intensity.

Government Plates is a challenging listen, but as one of the most transgressive records of the year.

Gallipoli is almost always an intriguing listen. Soaking the sound they’ve spent over a decade cultivating in dazzling Italian sun, Beirut’s latest is a welcome summer holiday.

Throughout the five tracks, Walker’s lyrics never feel anthemic. Rather, they are personal, almost as if she’s right there with you. Her words are a balm: comforting advice of an old friend through a Zoom call.

Yes, the record can sit a little awkwardly between being nostalgic and current – given her enlisting on next-gen stars for a hip-hop soul collection – but the take-the-power-back narrative really makes these songs shine.

‘I Am Jordan’ is a portrait of this artist’s personal growth, with tracks that could shine on any mood-boosting playlist. Ultimately, Jordan’s innovative and uplifting debut gifts us a question: could this be what trans euphoria sounds like?

This is the sound of Cage The Elephant exploring every corner of what they are.

As is the case with twee-pop even at its best, there are moments when Allo Darlin' can get carried away with its cutesy sensibilities, when smiles can turn into winces

Mess’ is characterised by synths and distorted beats. But unlike the often self-doubting and timid ‘WIXIW’, it revels in its own demented chaos.

On ‘Finally Over It’, the final instalment in the series, Walker feels unshackled for the first time, no longer haunted by her public break-ups.

Hopefully, listeners who have had their tastes whetted by Cat's Eyes and the cult Italian Beat At Cinecitta compilations will fall in love with this entrancing and gorgeously out-of-step album.

Criticism aside, Rocky's debut is full of superb moments and offers a rich tasting menu of unique sounds.

A happy, penguin-chilled sunset beach barbecue of a collection. [3 Jul 2004, p.65]

Startling from the first listen... the band are heavier, more menacing, more rhythmic than ever. [19 Jun 2004, p.55]

One of the best rock albums of 2003.

Right now this frazzled trio are the true sound of Detroit - confident, smart and absolutely essential.

Australia’s Chet Faker has a pretty big hole to dig himself out of on his debut. Singing no faster than 2mph doesn’t help either, but there’s an unexpected range in his schtick that’s disarming.

The album’s pleasures are tactile and immediate, the kind of R&B built for dim lights and late-night texts.

Strange Little Birds is a record that’s human to its very core, revelling in flaws and failures, but never losing hope. And in that way, it’s the perfect mirror for its creators’ 22-year career.

This return to drone primitivism might seem somewhat regressive for Gordon, as it doesn't represent anything remotely new for her as a musician or for drone music as a whole. But it is done with a pleasing malevolence.

Bo Ningen have become more approachable without losing the ferocity and anything-goes attitude that made them so exciting in the first place.

Banks, Kaufman and Barrick prove far more than the sum of their parts, turning on a bright light of their own.

Partie Traumatic is the sexiest, most outrageous outright pop album of ’08 so far, hard not to love and (seemingly) even easier to lay.

Friendly Fires songs are all manufactured to a similar formula but there’s a whole lab shelf lined with addictive variants.