Back in the Saddle (Creek) is Laura Burhenn--half of disbanded candyfloss-pop duo Georgie James--whose breathy coo glides effortlessly over the golden ‘Dusty In Memphis’ glow that lights up the first Mynabirds album.

Jaded & Faded strikes a fine balance between self-deprecation and the supreme confidence needed to get away with suggesting you've had your chips. But there's no second album syndrome here. It whoops ass.

Caracal is about Disclosure maturing, moving on and showing the listener how to rave respectably. This is dance music for grown-ups.

A few good lyrics (“You’re in love with the future / I don’t know why”) and some bad (“Why don’t you listen to your momma? / She’s old”) stick out, but the narrative hook is stronger in theory than in practice. ... The music on ‘Raw Data Feel’ is the band’s best, catchiest and most focused to date.

King Krule fans will find their hero to be far more accessible on ‘Man Alive!’. The Krulean gloom is beginning to lift and, with this newfound paternal responsibility and a more optimistic worldview in place, Marshall’s creativity is shining for all the world to see.

For the most part, ‘Before Love Came To Kill Us’ is a beautiful, heart-wrenching debut that sees its creator come good on her early promise.

It’s post-rock burning its beret, Americana for the post-apocalypse.

Recorded with help from Fantomas shrieker Mike Patton and Buzz ‘Melvins’ Osbourne on guitar, Carboniferous rocks out with little competition.

This is how you really do summertime sadness.

As the name suggests, Nothing Is Still is a fluid, complete piece of electronic music that sways from thoughtful down-tempo beats to swelling pieces of orchestral beauty. There are particular moments of beauty, though.

This is an incredibly sharp return.

Heavenly.

LJ retain their title as the world's premier inner-space invaders. [29 Jan 2005, p.58]

It's a soulful, romantic album about what happens when the lights come up at the end of the night and life smacks you in the face.

The result is a markedly retro-futurist sound, from the OMD-ish ‘Kinda Dark’ to ‘It Just Doesn’t Happen’, the synth line on which sounds suspiciously similar to a new wave rendition of Salt-N-Pepa’s ‘Push It’. At times, the music veers so close to kitsch that it may very well alienate some listeners from the get-go. Bejar’s songwriting remains as deft, cryptic and mosaic as ever though.

Though inspired by the endless waiting felt during the moving statues phenomenon in ‘80s Ireland, where religious statues reportedly moved spontaneously, there’s no anticipation for a holy punk apparition here. Everything we could have expected with ‘Time Bends and Break the Bower’ has been delivered.

With ‘The Passionate Ones’, he has honed his intuitive songwriting and production for an experience that is warped, welcoming and deservedly self-assured.

While the sumptuous grooves that underpin the tracks are captivating, it’s also the thematic content of Bismillah that makes for repeated listens.

The best Guided By Voices album yet. [28 Aug 2004, p.57]

There is little room to breathe and you will practically be beaten into submission by Keary’s snare by the time you reach closer ‘Slap Juice’. But this is a confident, assured debut from O., two instrumentalists at the height of their craft – with a real sense of humour to boot.

It’s a no-holds-barred trip into Taylor Hawkins’ personal favourites, and a loving homage to some of classic rock’s greatest voices.

‘Unnatural’ is full of sexy, snarling swagger and ‘Walls’ zips by on a wave of thundering riffs. Elsewhere there are hints of industrial (‘Money Machine’) and even reggae (‘Slow Down’), all proving that Nick Valensi has plenty of ideas and invention to offer outside of The Strokes.

This is that rare music that genuinely deserves the descriptor ‘visceral’: sonic body horror that comes on like avant-garde composer Diamanda Galas scoring David Cronenberg.

Fizzingly fun, this third mixtape sees Chance finessing but certainly not hampering, his freewheeling nature.

A roducer's album in the best sense, showcasing the personal and lyrical over flashy technique. [Review of UK version]

On her debut album, they all blossomed into a rich, self-reflective record that shows the artist beyond the beats.

The New York songwriter could be compared to the likes of Olivia Rodrigo or Phoebe Bridgers for her confessional, piercingly vulnerable indie–pop, but on ‘Honey’ her warmth and candour is singular.

The London quartet's second long-player sounds designed to interrogate ideas of what punk should or could mean.