American flower-punks Black Lips are purists when it comes to scuzz, and Good Bad, Not Evil is a perfect tapestry of sordid pleasure.

It’s not Flight Of The Conchords quality but, hey, at least it’s not The Midnight Beast.

Cole’s incisive, mic-dropping end to KOD reiterates his importance to the rap game in 2018 and, if you’re the speculating type, could even serve as a taster for an imminent full-length follow-up.

As melody-ripe as anything from [Brian] Wilson's brain.

The fact that this mad man’s breakfast is actually nothing short of jaw-dropping should be the cause of spontaneous mass copulation in the streets.

It often feels like an in-joke that we’re allowed in on.

Somewhere along the line the Chilis got sophisticated on our asses.

The stuff of jagged, ornate artistes living in a weird pop monsterland with defiantly anti-wacky lyrics. [13 Nov 2004, p.57]

Occasionally brilliant ear food for when you’re just drifting off.

The only problem is they always just come up short when trying to make their own version of FTP's 'Pumped Up Kicks'.

Only four tracks, but enough firepower to blow up the dancefloor.

If tracks like ‘New Town Velocity’ or ’Easy Money’ passed you by, this is an opportunity to reacquaint yourself. The Smiths songs, of course, will be of particular interest.

This, their third album, continues the Atlantans' slow but upward career trajectory to date, almost akin to an American Elbow in that they're grandiose, utterly lovely, but unlikely to sell any records for at least another couple of releases down the line.

Fishing For Fishies is their most accessible and immediate album to date.

Six years on he sounds like a man not getting nearly enough cuddles.

St Catherine’s surface may be polished to perfection, but much of what’s underneath feels hollow.

Has them concealing Duran Duran, Tears For Fears, Wire and U2 under a thick pea-soup of organ and rolling bass. [30 Oct 2004, p.65]

There have been dark records by Chicagoan Bill Callahan. There have been wilfully obscure ones too, but there has never been one as single-mindedly dour as this.

While it's unlikely that he'll pursue anything as historically precise as this for a solo career, 'Cold Mountain' proves what most of us have long suspected: when The White Stripes end, White will be far from finished.

It's as though all the contrariness of Blonde Redhead's angular past has dissolved into a fascination with pop ('This Is Not'), '60s soundtracks ('Melody Of Certain Three') and naked piano ballads ('For The Damaged', featuring one of The Black Heart Procession on the ivories) without sacrificing any of the heart-stopping dynamics or confessional psychodramas.

'Holes In The Wall' is one of the most impressive debut albums of 2002. Fact.

Proving he's no slouch when it comes to keeping up with musical trends, he's brought in producers like DJ Scratch and one-time junglist Adam F to make sure his beats match up to his evergreen vocal skills. And it works... Amazingly, this is his ninth album, yet he still sounds fresh.

When it works, it works.

Even with the rich array of sounds, every track has an impressive immediacy and it's that balance that makes 'Personality...' so uplifting. [22 Jul 2006, p.39]

The influence of Chairlift, Warpaint, Alt-J and The xx all subliminally creep into adorable but chilling laments on dying young and wrecked romances.

'Sticks & Stones', 'Memory Room' and, oddly, the title track add slivers of graceful light to this bleak but captivating collection of noirish tales.

This is warm, sleepy music that buzzes like a fridge. Best heard lying down.

All in all, ‘ICONOLOGY’ is Missy putting a gun in the face of her haters and daring them to say something. She wants them to doubt her just so she can pop off with some zany game-changing vision that’ll set the world on fire. But she’s not ready to unload a full clip just yet. Rest assured, though – it’s coming.