A bit of a winner. [17 Sep 2005, p.58]

Barring a late collapse into soft-rock mush on the drifting ‘This Love’ and weepy ‘Clean’, Swift’s plunge into pop is a success.

What's most promising is that GVSB's often melodic noise now, thanks to emo, exists less in weird isolation than it did, and the band seem to be headed dangerously close to getting what they deserve. If this means they must intermittently sound like Feeder, so be it.

There are some particularly heady flavours here to be sure, some blended well, others not.

It’s bonkers, but it’s hard not to be wooed by Moore’s outsider charm.

Their latest album You is very much an acquired taste, a wonky clatter that eight fellas with wayward Warren Ellis beards and DIY instrument workshops in their sheds will surely jizz themselves silly over.

On Always Returning, their fourth album, they've delivered yet again.

Houghton’s control is masterful, not just in translating her thoughts and confusion so pristinely into cracking tunes, but this record is testament to just how undersung she is as a musician.

The Best of Luck Club is not quite as immediate as the bruising garage-rock intensity of her debut, but this is instead a world-building release.

Beyond the familiar name drops and signposts, there are flashes of a band in control of their destiny, and willing to try something new.

While her commitment to reviving the golden age of hip-hop by harking back to the likes of Lil’ Kim and Foxy Brown is admirable, it looks like we’ll have to wait for Milli’s next release for that consistent collection of sure-fire hits we know she’s capable of delivering.

Hozier’s vocal abilities are on full display across ‘Unreal Unearth,’ but much like the album’s instrumentals, it’s his understanding of when to give more understated performances, as on gentle ‘I, Carrion (Icarian)’ or to go full-force, like on the end of pared-back ‘Unknown/Nth’, that make the songs triumph.

Ultimately, ‘Abomination’ feels like the first leap Lynks has taken into showing all their dimensions as an artist. It’s a refreshing change of pace to hear them not just deliver club classics, but also let their spiky persona begin to soften a little. .... The result is a thrilling, moving, life-affirming listen.

‘Smitten’ is a loved-up record that’ll have you falling for Pale Waves all over again.

The Odd Couple contains few hints about where the pair will go next. For now, let’s revel in the fact that soul music hasn’t sounded this fresh and downright freaky for a quarter of a century.

Leaping from its 2009 predecessor, Psychic Chasms, with the first notes of 'Heart: Attack', Era Extrana becomes a lesson in how to execute electronic music properly.

There’s no denying that Heartland is an overflowing well of musical creativity that leaves you feeling like you’ve missed something crucial if you let your attention drift. But the array of sounds can smother the songs.

Holy Fire brings new words to mind. Sharp. Emotive. Massive.

Equal parts The Runaways and Weezer, but still going, and still good.

At first it’s completely overwhelming--you’ll be trying to connect the scattered dots on this initially impenetrable listen, and maybe even despairing when it doesn’t all come together. But when the constellations show through, you’ll realise that it’s a product of searingly intelligent design.

This rag-tag collection, dating from between 1999 and 2010, sets out his stall as an outsider savant in an Ariel Pink vein.

It feels authentic, like The Lemon Twigs aren’t hiding anything. And it leaves you wide-eyed when you wonder what they might come up with next time around.

Oberst’s evocative character studies add intrigue throughout.

No Way Down’s panpipes and ‘Windmill Wedding’s' outro menagerie racket are so gap-year utopian they make you want to ram joss sticks up Air France’s noses. Mighty peculiar.

Pure indie-pop to hold close to your heart.

Despite the sense of chaos, there’s a level of sophistication and poise on show throughout. This record showcases Black Lips in a songwriting prime.

By the end this has the feel of a magnum opus, unrelentingly ambitious with just the right amount of self-indulgence.

It can be dour but that just makes the moments of light, such as the galloping, violin-augmented 'Golden Age', gleam all the brighter.