If you’re chasing the initial buzz, Little Fictions is quite a hit.

Lahey’s debut is a confessional, confident and important arrival.

Castle is not just cohesive--it feels like it’s been made to be consumed as one whole body of work. Each song segues into the next, giving barely a second to pause or hit shuffle.

Bright, exciting and full of effortlessly intelligent songwriting, 1, 2, Kung Fu! is an absolute joy to listen to. Wickedly fun, and made to be played on festival stages this summer, it’s short glimpse into the musical landscape of Newington’s mind--and one that we’re pretty bloody glad he shared.

The production is slicker, the songwriting more considered, and the statement more solidified. Peppered with spoken-word interludes, Cashwan-Pratt laying himself bare like never before, Dog Whistle is a manifesto for everything Show Me The Body’s early days promised.

‘Sideways To New Italy’ might sound like sun-splashed indie for good times, but there’s a great deal of angst buried within. Yet this is clearly also the sound of a band excited to be in the studio together; warmth and friendship seeps through every note.

A maelstrom of hums, echoes and grumbles of horns, percussion and bass pushes against always gentle melodies. But Week’s voice, striking and smooth, always blends with the music. One is not stronger than the other. Delicacy and power, waiting and living, the ordinary and the extraordinary – the listener is invited to feel it all.

Soulful but never morose, and thoughtful on the passing of time and the importance of cherishing these tiny moments, it’s a sophisticated return to form.

Considering it was made during a time when we couldn’t go anywhere, this album is at worst a fittingly scenic trip through the places that inspired it, and at best a fresh new sonic chapter for Albarn and a wonderful way for you to leave all the nonsense behind; blissfully reminded that there’s a beautiful world out there.

Another gem in First Aid Kit’s consistently good arsenal of timeless, harmony-rich roots music.

There are signs on ‘Aperture’, Jadagu’s debut album, of a songwriter who is beginning to find her feet in this world. Characterised by warm, crisp synth production that will speak to Arlo Parks fans, ‘Warning Sign’ spotlights this maturity: a minimalistic, R&B-fuelled anthem of reflection that grows in leaps and bounds as more elements make their way into the mix. There’s a newfound swagger and breath of fresh air, too.

The result is an excellent follow-up to the breakthrough that was ‘Any Human Friend’. Hackman raises the stakes in her music in a way that feels natural; it is conceptually bigger and more creatively mature, while the songcraft makes this transition feel earned.

From where we’re standing, it doesn’t sound like Gartland needs to change a thing.

It breaks very little new ground--which does have the upside of the songs sounding catchy because you feel like you've heard it all before.

It's all flawless in a string-laden soul way, but too clean an effort from a man who, in the past, has been so much more exciting by letting the grit remain.

Tell Me How You Really Feel is Courtney Barnett at her angriest and most vulnerable, but being a drinker of details means she can also blow the beauty of life’s little things up to full-size.

It’s understated, and a quietly affecting success.

Exhilarating and violent.

A glorious and human introduction, this is without doubt a modern-day shoegaze classic.

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

New album Flamagra, a spaced-out funk epic that’s much more soothing than its predecessor, proves Ellison has grown as a producer.

My Maudlin Career is the kind of record that exists to reward those both mad, and sad, in love.

Drunk, as out-there as it can be, is an album totally high on its own unique ideas.

Music theory waffle/spiritual musings aside, this sees the pair expand their austere template with new instruments and ideas to great effect.

The Chats don’t so slow songs. They don’t do sad songs. The Chats do good times and this debut is set to inspire plenty.

Personal yet relatable pop music that makes itself heard thanks to its intricacies, ‘& The Charm’ is a remarkable evolution.

If 'Wind In The Wires' is not exactly an innocent record, then, it is certainly sincere. And that sincerity, allied to such extraordinary sounding songs, makes for an exhilarating experience. [12 Feb 2005, p.49]

The Hum is all feel, no bullshit, and it truly gets under your skin.