Dananan’s first album proper suffers from the same problems as Los Campesinos!’ flawed debut; ‘Black Wax’ and ‘Pink Sabbath’ are both thrilling, if wonky, pop songs, but they could be appreciated more fully as singles rather than back to back.

A vital trans-Atlantic concern, the point where Dizzee meets Jay-Z. [3 Feb 2007, p.33]

The pair attack a chunky selection of bluesy Wilko originals with gusto.

They're clearly not aiming for a worldwide banker, but the seam they mine is creatively profitable and floridly engineered.

A strange, lovely trip.

Vitalic's third album retreads the same gleefully maximal path as the records that came before it.

The result is a beguiling--albeit, at seven tracks, rather short--set of intricate, finger-picked songs.

Here Brian Fallon’s voice is as beaten and battered as the perfect leather jacket, and all the more beguiling for it.

His sleaziness is hilarious. [30 Oct 2004, p.65]

There is a fatal flaw with 'Arular' which means it never makes the step up from 'solid debut' to all-time classic. MIA clears her throat, grabs your attention: and then has nothing to say. [16 Apr 2005, p.49]

Energetic and cleverly crafted.

Doherty is actually flirting with optimism on Sequel To The Prequel.

Tiptoeing through the dark fairytale forests of ‘Sleep Paralysis’ can be fun, but this is so woozy-sounding it should come with a warning not to operate heavy machinery while listening.

Armed with a wide array of instrumentation, it’s an ambitious attempt at an extravagant pop record and, at their best, the band show a deft touch for layered orchestration.

The band are increasingly clever at turning a melody inside out to evoke those moments of dizzy-making clarity.

Black Moon Spell is scuzzy, wired and bulging with Marc Bolan vocals, riffs Jimmy Page forgot to stick on any Zeppelin album and a bunch of outrageously catchy choruses. Big fun.

That's not to say this is a bad record, just one that's clearly in love with pop music, and one that'll require another leap of faith from the band's hardcore fanbase.

The Machines have grasped that the zero tolerance of punk for the values of Yes did as much harm as good. [26 Jun 2004, p.56]

The most achingly trendy record you'll hear this year. [1 Oct 2005, p.45]

Freed of the need to sound how people expect them to, the seven piece get the chance to show that they can turn in proper, craft-standard pop when they need to.

While the quartet's reference points (Weezer, Pavement) are hardly unusual, their sound is fresh and invigorating.

Just odd enough to escape period-piece pastiche, their deft weaving of different eras and styles makes them akin to a UK version of White Denim, and promises more exciting things from the future.

This could have been a vanity effort to prove their worth, but instead they prove that not only does crisis work--so does collaboration.

Complex and slightly schizophrenic, 100% Publishing is a winner, even if the man himself is a PR's nightmare. Long live King Wiley.

Like their sonic brothers Iceage, they’ve evolved without losing their edge.

From the frantic 'Smoking Kills' to the joyously frank drinking song 'Bottle To Bottle', there's more than enough evidence to suggest the Brighton trio are the caustic blast of honesty and character the UK punk scene's been lacking recently.

Common Existence is a worthy addition to Thursday’s canon.

Generally this is fairly accessible stuff.