Yet in his desire to create a self-consciously classic album, BDB has erred on the side of generosity. At 63 minutes, 'The Hour Of Bewilderbeast' is true to its title: there's simply too much to sustain one's unswerving attention.

For every James Blake moment there’s a Jamie Woon one, and Seabed could do with less mopiness.

It’s commendable that aespa are not resting on their laurels or churning out sound-a-likes of what’s worked before, but this project doesn’t showcase the spark that made them special in the first place.

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

How anyone outside the walls of a mental asylum could genuinely enjoy the annoyingly repetitive industrial drum-throbs, aimless experimento-guitar crunches and lyrics about "reeking gonads" that characterise songs called things like 'Epizootics!' is beyond me.

Boy do they give good ocean of sound. [19 Mar 2005, p.59]

It’s a record that will become like a familiar friend over repeated listens, and shows how the band have built elegantly on the foundations of their debut, fizzing with self-belief at every turn.

Musically Once More 'Round The Sun is equivalent to having several tons of hot molten lava poured into your eye sockets for about an hour.

He’s named after his father’s best fishing fly, but the pastoral folk moments on Stephen Wilkinson’s fifth album of chummy electronica pale next to the glut of nostalgic yearning.

36 minutes and three tracks of rich, enveloping, meditative heaviness.

Even if Ones And Sixes doesn't end up the proverbial fan favourite, it maintains Low's status as a reliably moving creative partnership.

Workmanlike. [18 Mar 2006, p.33]

Mastodon have written the most personal album of their career, and in doing so perhaps their most pertinent too.

A strong and surprisingly confident first impression.

‘Vie’ proves that Doja Cat remains pop’s ultimate shapeshifter, offering an album that moves, seduces and entertains on its own terms.

A rather lovely music: all widescreen swell and swoop and sweet, pained harmonies, with a Flaming Lips-style skewed pop undertow. [22 Apr 2006, p.41]

On this lovely little patchwork pop record, there's enough going on to make you actually quite scared of what they'd come up with if they had a budget.

It’s a moving record. The only catch is, when they turn down the intensity on ‘What We Loved Was Not Enough’ they sound like Arcade Fire at their most mawkish.

A bit of good-time boogie on 'Big Rock' is the only release of tension. Otherwise this is intimate country-folk that's utterly seductive in its stillness.

This EP titillates before leaving you wanting more; just how it should be.

The emotive finesse of ‘Cherry Blossoms’ might further the calls for a shoulder to blub on, but chugging full-band showstopper ‘Ramona’ shows Yellen’s songwriting to be as rich as his voice.

The live album is built from tracks taken from different shows so doesn’t show off the improvisatory nature of their setlist-free shows, but again, it’s a reminder that their three-year absence is a bit of a tragedy.

Nielson strides away from the woozy Beefheart-indebted psychedelia of ‘II’ and its self-titled 2011 predecessor, and vividly expands every single aspect of the UMO sound.

Take a deep breath, lay back and soak in the technicolour empire Maribou State have crafted on this album--you’ll feel at one with our world for it.

Through a rich exploration of genres and a new level of emotional depth, it becomes clear that ‘Skeletá’ was made with a new vision in mind, and comes as the promising start of a new Ghost chapter.

A record of glorious parts that are just too weighty, too emotionally complex and rich to hang together well as a whole.

Occasionally subtlety spills over into insipidness, but overall this is a masterclass in restrained beauty.