Their head-fuckable tunes warp and distort everything into a kaleidoscopic pulp.

Firecracker mod-punk and allegorical political cut-and-thrust. [5 Mar 2005, p.51]

He’s crafted a tender and often forlorn eco-treatise.

Lo-fi electronica ('Getaway Ride') and ambient pop ('Dominic') create the spine of a charmingly off-kilter record, while 'I Love Our World' is essentially a field recording.

Twin drummers Matthew Clark and Jamie Levinson are oustanding, but it’s Patterson who’s the real star – an all-American frontman whose honey-coated voice is practically begging for adoration.

It definitely ain’t perfect, then, but in concocting a scrubbed-up, carefully wrought maturation of their sound, Born Under Saturn gives us something close to Django Django unchained.

The Bardo Story sounds like a collection of rediscovered ’60s and ’70s gems uploaded to YouTube.

They’ve kept those colours nailed firmly to the mast, and never more so than on ‘No Money Music’, an aptly named track that adopts the aural scare tactics of Suicide’s ‘Frankie Teardrop’.

Yeah, that’s 8 Diagrams--a knockabout set rather than a knife to the jugular.

None of the band’s bolshy character is lost on Bronx IV, but they do find new places to go.

Merging aquatic Americana that casts its net over the gang mentality of Arcade Fire, The Polyphonic Spree and Broken Social Scene – and that most über-overexposed of F-words, folk – it’s clear why Johnny Marr is touting the Californian throng as his new favourite band.

While homegrown folkies such as Laura Marling are happy to lose themselves in twanging bluegrass and Americana, it’s refreshing to hear a Brit ploughing up our own verdant folk history. Scot troubadour Alasdair Roberts does just that.

It’s a collection of snapshots of a band stretching towards a brilliantly kaleidoscopic, eclectic new sound--and almost reaching it.

There's undoubtedly something there with Frankie--those effortless, skippy choruses aren't as easy to do as they seem. But he and his Heartstrings haven't quite found their true north yet.

‘Iceman’ is easily the strongest of the three. Across 18 tracks, Drake attempts to tap back into the slick, laidback sharpness of his ‘Comeback Season’ era, delivering some of his least bloated rap in years.

That voice, when she exploits the grit of that Barbadian burr to the max, is more unique and richly textured than ever, and that and her crack production team are all the personality.

Twelfth solo album Saturns Pattern backs up recent promises of another shift in sound, sending him into uncharted, acid-spiked waters.

The actual music on Blurry Blue Mountain, however, is warm and enveloping.

On their sixth album, however, they advance on their trademark blokeishness to embrace a beefier and slicker kind of guitar-led groove.

Ultimately this is an album to dance, not cry, to.

A rhinestone-tipped treat. [22 Oct 2005, p.41]

Ultimately the one thing truly lacking on Dungeonesse is the bright spark that makes pop stars so entertaining to obsess over.

More subtle now, but Alice and Kacey are keeping us guessing.

Momentary Masters is his most satisfying, cohesive record yet, and, in many ways, his most personal.

Musically it’s not a huge departure from Subiza, but if it ain’t broke there’s no point fixing it.

Again finds them excelling in the art of morbidity. [27 May 2006, p.33]

45:33 is loads of fun, a satisfying folly that's as central to an appreciation of "Sound Of Silver" as the lyric sheet.

Goodwin could be a solo star yet.