Only 17-minute finale 'Friendly Society' wears thin, its ideas forced and spread too thinly across clunky sub-sections. The rest, though, is languidly atmospheric, peaking with the moonlit disco jam of 'Sideways Glance'.

There’s no denying that Heartland is an overflowing well of musical creativity that leaves you feeling like you’ve missed something crucial if you let your attention drift. But the array of sounds can smother the songs.

Howling Bells aren't back to their best, but they're within touching distance.

This record is a worthy companion for the latest Joanna Gruesome album: Fist City too, blur the distinctions between indie and punk, and have a similar knack for killer hooks.

Permanent Signal finds beauty in loneliness.

On Field Music Play they bring their brand of clever and excellent to other people's pop songs.

Even though Gliss Riffer comes with no added extras it still creaks under the weight of its experiments.

As a bite-size CV of the last five years of his career, it’s pretty good.

Not just a fan oddity--a fine pleasure.

If there's a quibble, it's an avoidable tendency to let songs drift into overtly tasteful territory, but on point, Ballet School do their heroes proud.

This is not the carefree record Splashh were expected to make, but it is all the better for its dourness.

['Wrist'] sees [Deftones] continue to explore that hazy hinterland, where The Smiths' sensitivity and Sepultura's sledgehammer riffs overlap. [28 Oct 2006, p.35]

Vocal-free, Chance Of Rain sees Laurel Halo once more stepping back behind the sounds of her machines, but it’s the depth of those sounds that speaks volumes.

A little more melodic resolve wouldn't go amiss, but 'Ester' is a solid, imaginative debut that leaves you aglow with the ice-warmth of a blip-literate Cocteau Twins.

Sunne is a grotty, grubby and exciting refining of Cheatahs' sound.

Klang has a clarity of purpose, its songs structured with military precision.

Throughout, Settle will blind you with so much sheen you’ll want to tile your bathroom in it. Sadly, the London Grammar-featuring ‘Help Me Lose My Mind’ is a bit of an unnecessary cool-down.

There's all sorts of other excursions as well; the benefits of having a home studio to get lost in.

A thoroughly modern, almost Byronic, solo album that updates past excesses in the context of the present, and ignores Californian darkness in favour of a polished, summery outlook.

Hauschka’s bracing concept album.

Mostly: total bliss session.

Provides us with a fascinating insight into the mindset of a band who’ve gone from BMX riding curio’s to the oddest paid-up residents of the top ten for years.

Lyrically 2 Chainz knows he's no street Shakespeare, but as this EP shows, he can certainly knows his way around an arresting tune.

Line-up changes (guitarist Jamie McMorrow was replaced by V-Twin man Dino Bardot) have resulted in a beefier, bouncier, more playful sound, with vocals shared more evenly and harmonies abounding.

They produce pretty mutations; their first collaborative record throws up a mix of stuttering electro-rap and ethereal pop.

It's an itchy, difficult listen, but then it's hardly easy being original.

For their righteous dance moves alone, these guys are for keeps. [5 Jun 2004, p.56]

It’s hardly love at first listen.... Yet across repeat plays, the album’s charms begin to unfurl.