By the end, they've told a story of adolescence spent crumpling at the hands of others, while having to pick up the pieces all by yourself.

The notoriously hardcore sexual aggressor has swapped strap-ons for sentiment and turned all flaccid in the process, and guess what: it’s quite...nice.

After is personified by her ragged, powerful voice, under which she picks, thrashes and strums riffs that mostly sound just as full of character.

[An] impressive lo-fi debut. [27 Aug 2005, p.74]

It's crystallised, but the light shines through.

So the album doesn’t sound old but there’s a refreshing warmth emanating from these fizzing and burbling Moogs and Parker Steinway keyboards.

Gently acoustic, peacefully steeped in nostalgia and remembrance, it generates a warm glow of grace...

This fifth set (their second since breaking out) pushes the city limits of their fantasy world even wider and masks an uncomfortable truth.

It's just a shame that quieter moments such as 'The Lengths' sound a little weedy in comparison. [4 Sep 2004, p.72]

Like Johnny Cash jamming with Holly Golightly, Little Amber Bottles is the grizzled embodiment of everything that's brilliant about sleazy, Deep South rock'n'roll.

When two such spiky forms collide you can’t expect everything to click, but FFS is still a wonder of gelling idiosyncrasies.

On this lovely little patchwork pop record, there's enough going on to make you actually quite scared of what they'd come up with if they had a budget.

There are tough, commanding rare grooves, fly spy-thriller tracks, big, daft hip-hop tunes, a brilliant lounge-reggae skank, 'Good Girl Gone Bad', and, in 'The Turnaround', and the 'Apache'-like b-boy break-out, 'Battle Of Bongo Hill', two of the funkiest, party starters you'll hear all year.

He continues his obsession with broken-hearted collages and interstellar folk music. [25 Jun 2005, p.64]

This album sees him rising from the hordes of spider-black hoodies, becoming a musical force beyond the Download ticket-holders.

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.

The cocky confidence that barrelled them into the big time might just be losing momentum--a band made of bold leaps have started dipping toes.

Farrar has the passion to carry the songs beyond any hackneyed themes. [6 Aug 2005, p.56]

This time around, however, they've paced themselves and delivered an album packed with punchy, literate guitar music.

Confusing, in a fun way.

Chasing Yesterday has its flaws, but they’re far outnumbered by moments where it succeeds in catching up with its titular quarry.

What's most pronounced is the subtlety of it all, the tastefulness, the lack of bombast and histrionics.

Angel Guts: Red Classroom is his third album in under a year, and superficially it resembles many of Xiu Xiu’s others by draping wracked and fragile vocals over obtuse electronics and analogue atonality.

While Mandarin certainly rock, they do so at a pedestrian amble. [11 Sep 2004, p.53]

Although less vitriolic than 2006's "Nux Vomica," his third album still throbs with delicious melodrama and anguished assertions.

'Storytelling' is the first indication that Stuart Murdoch has finally got some decent red meat down his gob and he's no longer resigned to wallowing in his dank indie mire until The Pastels come home.

While a grisly backstory doth not always a masterpiece make, the album's finest moments come when she takes a Misery-sized sledgehammer to the youthful irreverence of yore and reduces it to rubble.

Kicks with a passion and inventiveness that's seen them steam up the specs of everyone from Moby to Graham Coxon. [17 Jun 2006, p.39]