Sandoval's voice remains an indescribably beautiful thing, while David Roback's guitar provides haunting backing.

This album is a subtly, sweetly wonderful thing--proof that, sometimes, sonic actions speak louder than words.

As good as it is, ‘Hackney Diamonds’ does have bad spots. Country honker ‘Dreamy Skies’ would’ve sounded outdated in the ‘70s – and even a cameo from founder bassist Bill Wyman can’t save punk-y cringe-a-thon ‘Live By The Sword’, another victim of Mick’s interminable Johnny Rotten impression. Those low points are thankfully scarce, fewer and farther between than on anything this side of 1981.

In August 2014, Los Angeles trio Wand released debut ‘Ganglion Reef’, a psychedelic record inspired by a make-believe island. They’ve maintained that imaginative approach for follow-up Golem, which is full of brain-bending riffs, effects and abstract lyrics.

In turns more glam-indebted and more duskily evocative than anything they’ve previously offered up, Himalayan’s aims are as monumental as its title.

Throughout the five tracks, Walker’s lyrics never feel anthemic. Rather, they are personal, almost as if she’s right there with you. Her words are a balm: comforting advice of an old friend through a Zoom call.

These blow-dried disco numbers are unmistakably well-toned. [18 Sep 2004, p.65]

Teatime Dub Encounters doesn’t pale in their shadow or smack of a vanity or side project. This is a whole new monster born of the friction from a restless need to create, the pure abandon to do whatever the fuck feels good, and the batshit brilliance from three mad scientists with so much still to prove. Others of their standing may choose the wallowing legacy of safety. These guys do not.

A marvellous little menagerie of smart, eccentric guitar pop full of arty tics and tricks. [13 Aug 2005, p.58]

All told, while not every track has the immediacy of 'Lies' or 'Recover', there's not a weak one among them.

Nostalgia aside: this is an album worth celebrating now.

Just as good [as the compilation]. [1 Apr 2006, p.43]

On their 12th album, Red Hot Chili Peppers not only get comfortable with their own impressive legacy, but prove there’s plenty more to come.

Even if Prince, Madonna, Paul Weller, Shane MacGowan, Ice-T and Michael Jackson got together to form a freakish supergroup, they’d struggle to make an album containing as much vitality, humour and invention as Cave and his wizened cronies have.

Silver Tongues picks up exactly where they left off: back on top as one of Britain’s most thrilling rising bands.

Despite the odd unfortunate guest, ‘Rockstar’ is as bursting with life and positivity as the woman who made it.

Love and its bruising unobtainableness remains his chief concern, but with Years Of Refusal some things have changed. For a start there’s less of the stately strings of "Ringleader..." and more of the direct rockabilly of "...Quarry."

Brave and futuristic, by venturing into space, Mescudi finally steps out of Kanye’s shadow--with not just one small step, but one giant leap.

Not only do the band successfully blend genres with ease, they thrillingly leap through whole musical movements from one note to the next.

It’s “pub-punk” for now, but there’s a good chance it’ll take them to much bigger stages sooner rather than later. It’s not big, it’s not clever, but it’s a bloody hoot.

Strange Little Birds is a record that’s human to its very core, revelling in flaws and failures, but never losing hope. And in that way, it’s the perfect mirror for its creators’ 22-year career.

The record never diverts from a tried-and-tested formula, but Crossan brings a modern touch via nifty production tricks and songwriting knacks.

The trio reflect the growing bleakness of the world around them by sounding more fiery and furious than ever before.

Lostprophets have, against the odds, carved something genuinely fresh.

Rarely does a remix EP recalibrate songs so thoroughly while maintaining every inch of their magic, but we should expect the unexpected from Phoebe Bridgers by now.

A union of intelligence and passion. [26 Mar 2005, p.51]

Elegantly-strummed slices of lo-fi Americana.

Probably the most gutsy, timeless recording of his career. [5 Aug 2006, p.29]