The album’s first half is fantastic.... The album’s second ‘suite’ is mellower and less consistent.

A wobbly start, but luckily The Coral are just finding their sea legs.

If White Men really recalls anything, it’s those early TV On The Radio records made before Dave Sitek had figured out what he was doing--and you can take that as a sincere compliment.

Their seventh album, might be one of their best, with the band and leader Britt Daniel sounding as energised and playful as a puppy

It’s a graceful evolution and one that rocks just as hard as the squalling fury of The Distillers ever did.

Sébastien invites you to follow him, like a sexy David Koresh, and with tunes like 'Sedulous', 'Pepito Bleu' and the aforementioned 'Cochon Ville' ('pig city' en Anglais), the call might just prove irresistible.

There are a couple of duds, (‘Book Of Love’, ‘Please Say No’), but, as forlorn closer ‘You Were Right’ ably demonstrates, few bands do heartache with as much majesty.

A strident, self-assured album.

Both modern and natural, tragedy has tugged defiance from The Charlatans once more.

While an ambitious selection of productions have reinvigorated his approach, as the album rolls on, the same solo call-and-response hooks, and methodical, self-effacing verses show that, vocally, he’s content sticking to familiar, functional turf.

There are moments when Cloud Nothings sounds like your average punk-pop record, but Baldi is willing to render outside the lines with his own idiosyncratic noodlings and daubs of C86-era colour.

They've gone all mature, come to terms with their past and kicked on to the future too.

It's an unyielding piss-up of tattooed garage riffs, petrol-drenched blues and Marlboro-chuffing growlers. [1 Jul 2006, p.35]

An appreciation of jarring off-key vocals is essential to really love Naytronix, but at the root of all the batshit tinkles, twonks, robot vocals and dial-up noises is a smooth melodic funk pop perfect for seducing the microwave of your dreams.

Tremors is frustrating. But when the colours align it’s alluring and impressive.

It’s no radical reinvention, sure, but the singer captures these songs in their most up-close-and-personal state, with instrumentation stripped back to nearly zero.

The record is both labour of love and exorcism - Frusciante plays every instrument himself and every song is, without exception, pointedly self-analytical and emotionally probing. This, combined with Frusciante's ropey but breath-catchingly fraught voice, can make for uncomfortable listening. Nevertheless, there remains an underlying optimism and fondness for unapologetically pretty melodies that imparts a redeeming and lasting warmth.

A cacophonous, fearsome and shadowy delight.

An excellent modern rock record. Dense, intelligent, user-unfriendly and challenging. [12 Mar 2005, p.57]

While debut album 'Faded Seaside Glamour' suffered from a mild dose of ADD, sprawling and meandering into atmospheric noodling between its smatter of acid-in-your-candyfloss pop hits, with 'You See Colours' Gilbert has sharpened his pop stiletto blade.

Fantastic Playroom packs enough innovation in its boosters to reach new rave escape velocity.

The gleeful squelches on ‘Life Of Birds’ might sound like a cheery Game Boy--but, next to the sinister electro-chill of the rest of the record, it’s a nursery rhyme.

It’s far too long at 67 minutes, but that’s the price of free expression.

Sure, this isn’t going to frighten the rabbits just yet, but they do occupy a beguiling space between playful celtic reverie and the pits of drone-rock hell.

Try as he might, though, he can’t cover up his odd but undeniable talents.

If there's a lesson to be learned from 'Making Dens', it's that there's nothing to be feared from pushing the pop envelope that little bit further.

In the end, MDNA is a ridiculously enjoyable romp, but oddly not for the bits that are supposed to be fun. Instead, it's the psychotic, soul-bearing stuff that provides listeners with some of the most visceral stuff she's ever done.

The pit-friendly snarl of ‘I Won’t Be A Casualty’ and ‘You Must Be Damned’ show that these guys are all still the real deal.