Intrepid it ain’t, but sometimes the straightforward approach has its rewards.

Taking everything that’s brilliant about Yungblud and amplifying it, album two is Harrison at his most extreme. It’s exactly where he belongs, too. Yungblud’s never seemed more inspiring or vital as he proves himself as one of the most important rock stars around. ‘weird!’ really is wonderful.

Confusing, in a fun way.

It’s a challenging, warm if understated effort destined to thunk into the indie solo album dartboard somewhere between Julian Casablancas and Duncan from Maximo Park.

An uproarious set of rock songs that audaciously ape the styles of several of his current iPod icons.

The shift from trap beats and hip-hop delivery to purer pop suites Malone well, proving that slowing down can be a creative advantage, especially when you’re heading in the right direction.

Who Me?, then, is a weird, loveable record to file alongside Wauters’ labelmate and touring buddy Mac DeMarco.

Mura Masa has again pooled disparate guests and sounds to make a record that is somehow both steeped in a sense of curation and individual to his artistic identity.

Music as taut, spare and ominous as The Bad Seeds at their most malevolent. [21 Aug 2004, p.49]

Instead of offering a truly revealing glimpse into their relationship – as the album cover suggests – ‘I Said I Love You First’ maintains a noticeable distance between artist and listener, and leaves you feeling a little empty by the end.

Unfortunately, by making snapshot songs, he’s created a scattershot album. ‘Piss In The Wind’ plants plentiful seeds for Joji’s next direction – now, he just needs to let the good ideas grow.

Even a run of solid guest stars--Solange, Toro Y Moi and Vampire Weekend’s Ezra Koenig--can’t pump any passion into this flaccid cringe-fest.

Tearing through its 10 songs in a shade under 28 minutes, World Of Joy sounds like a band straining themselves to top a personal best. Happily, they’ve managed it.

It's bold, brash, trashy fun that will tempt Killers fans to fall in lust all over again. [19 Mar 2005, p.57]

More than anything else, there’s a feeling that Dig Out Your Soul might actually be their best album in over a decade. In other words, not quite the fabled, oft-promised “Best one since fookin’ "Definitely Maybe!"" but certainly the best one since fookin’ "...Morning Glory."

As I Am sees the piano songstress breaking free of her saccharine chains and delivering a streetwise, smoky set of real soul.

Having distanced themselves from the E-word long before it became fashionable to do so, Chase This Light sees them outgrow it.

Sure, it’s worth making the effort if you’re already a Segall Stan or a White Fence mega fan, but beyond that? There’s little here to latch onto that’ll make your stay worthwhile.

This Is PiL is a relatively edgeless makeover, albeit infused with the progressive spirit of '79, and bolstered by what has always served Lydon well.

Come Of Age breezes through their awkward teenage phase with ease.

Here they're going through the motions, missionary style, with mechanical jangly pop and the wince-inducing triteness of Cosentino's lyrics.

It all just cries out for a little more oomph.

As a tribute to Antonin Artaud, The Peyote Dance captures the frightening, ambitious and surreal work of an artist who was misunderstood during his life, albeit from a spectator’s perspective.

Although they might be lacking teats, their creative juices are nevertheless overflowing.

Good Graces may not be reinventing the wheel, but it leans out of the hammock to give it a good spin.

While it captures the contrary, questing essence of Sonic Youth surer than any SY release since 'Washing Machine', it also never betrays the sluggish, arrogant lack of self-editing that made '98's 'A Thousand Leaves' so bilious and unlovable, and the band's self-released 'SYR' EPs so hit and miss.

Goswell's voice... is a rich wonder in itself; and unlike every other singer-songwriter in the world, she sounds nothing like Nick Drake! [26 Jun 2004, p.55]

It's frustrating to see them pissing around like South Park's Matt and Trey, when they can produce something as genuinely affecting and pure pop as 'Stay Forever'.