This first instalment is impressive, but thin at eight tracks. Would it not have been better to hold back, and release just one, truly stunning record?

BE’] is certainly an improvement on ‘Different Gear...’, but it’s more of a tentative step in the right direction than a great leap forward.

'Aerial' has more than its share of static, but the highs are more than worth the lows. [12 Nov 2005, p.45]

Across is nonetheless a very fond retread around the outskirts of a dank, delectable career.

Recorded in a primary school, the Reading warbler's third solo record is whimsical, pleasant and calming, with shades of Damien Rice and Regina Spektor.

An album that veers between the lush pop melodies of her last two LPs and a full-frontal riot grrrl assault.

Guaranteed to leave you speechless, one way or another. [12 Mar 2005, p.58]

The record boasts maybe his finest solo single to date in 'Brittle Heart', plus a clutch of mid-tempo rockers that scrub up nicely--even if the seedy Soho glam of yore is replaced by a leadenly earnest tone.

It all adds up to a cerebral and entertaining tribute to the many and varied incarnations of dance.


What gives Saturnalia its real kick is the way it emotionally engages.

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

Another Eternity is a far more mainstream-sounding album than their 2012 debut ‘Shrines’, but it’s also rooted in sounds from the underground.

Price has pulled off a smarter trick: after doing ’80s Britain and ’70s America, The Killers now finally sound like… themselves.

Yet in his desire to create a self-consciously classic album, BDB has erred on the side of generosity. At 63 minutes, 'The Hour Of Bewilderbeast' is true to its title: there's simply too much to sustain one's unswerving attention.

MTMTMK is all about neon-soaked city raving, and the result is a stiffer, uglier and over-Westernised sound, too reliant on soulless computerisation.

At 30 minutes long, the trip is brief, but it covers so much ground.

This is an album of difficult rhythms, squawking guitars and bohemian eccentricities that will leave fans delighted and everyone else baffled--just as their 12 others have done. Business as usual, then.

Unfathomable brilliance from start to finish.

For all its high-mindedness, it’s garage-rock primalism is just as easily enjoyed with your brain switched off. Perhaps that’s the point.

Maybe they're just too solid, too classic, too... lacking in danger, but Bruiser proves they're still putting up a hell of a fight.

A few indulgences like an ‘Auld Lang Syne’ singalong are the main gripes to dampen an otherwise monumental presence.

A mix of Trent Reznor and Patrick Wolf, he’s both an industrial piledriver and theatrical show-off, making this debut record disorientating, confusing and exciting.

Ash come close here to that which has always eluded them: an album that amounts to more than the sum of its singles.

Snoop takes a surprising back seat, singing low in the mix and seldom rapping--an odd decision, but it works and when Bush is good, it’s an absolute joy.

This is no identity crisis, it's the sound of beautiful evolution.

Simplicity means the record occasionally feels samey, but it seems mean to criticise something that feels so pure.

Bazaar elevates Wampire alongside those bands, while retaining the skewed oddness that made them so likeable in the first place.

The album itself follows the thread started on 2005’s "With Teeth," which is to say Reznor’s again favouring songs over soundscapes.