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.

Overlong at almost an hour but, largely, as pretty and organic as crystal.

The 23-year-old is most impressive when channeling the heartfelt huskiness of Edith Piaff on the old timey ‘I’ve Got A Girl’, which rolls across the backdrop of a hefty Waitsian polka.

The emotions might not be quite as strong on this record but Sea Of Bees still manages to wrap you up in her words.

His third album in as many years shows he’s on a streak that’s both prolific and high quality.

Eccentric spirit, production mastery and emotional heft put this alongside Four Tet’s very best work.

Communion takes no risks and says nothing.

What Work It Out never quite manages to do, however, is leave any sort of lasting impression: the album’s near 45-minute runtime passes with the agreeable impermanence of a mid-afternoon reverie, a pleasing diversion that melts imperceptibly away as soon as it’s over.

The duo have used their total creative freedom to make an album which doesn’t sound like the last one, exactly, but doesn’t concern itself with the supposed importance of ‘progression’ either.

From the crisp, hip-hop accenting on the drums to the full-bodied bass and vivd synths, Currents is an audiophile’s wet dream.

The Membranes’ first album in 26 years is an extraordinary comeback.

A constantly surprising and relentlessly melodic pleasure.

This record is a worthy companion for the latest Joanna Gruesome album: Fist City too, blur the distinctions between indie and punk, and have a similar knack for killer hooks.

So Surf continues--infectious, light and upbeat, but never inane. It begs you to feel included, and wide-awake.

A debut that breathes new life into old sounds.

The quintet are a crack unit, powered by hard rock riffs, jazz and Krautrock-informed drums and flights of flute-based fancy.

La Priest, he’s made one of the debuts of the year.

After is personified by her ragged, powerful voice, under which she picks, thrashes and strums riffs that mostly sound just as full of character.

There’s an occasional tendency for the guitars to spill into the clunky arena rock territory preferred by Lenny Kravitz--who shreds on ‘Face The Sun’ but Wildheart impresses nonetheless.

War On Drugs engineer Nicolas Vernhes smoothes restrained standouts ‘Don’t Ask Me Why’ and ‘Room’ into two of Kalevi’s best songs yet, but the whole thing bathes in glorious groove.

You’ve got an album that revels in the simplicity of a great pop song while cleverly articulating the everyday truths of 20-something life, on Bognanno’s terms alone.

The record is made up of four nine-minute-plus epics that waft into view, all dub basslines, ambient synth washes and well-chosen samples. The exception to such rambling--and standout moment--is the title track.

Pretentious, yes, but wonderful.

The pop-punk politicising does get exhausting over 14 fiercely energetic, relentlessly right-on tracks, but even after a decade as a folk star, Oberst still gives the other grown-up emo kids a run for their money.

While there are bands who share common ground with Outfit--These New Puritans, Hot Chip, Junior Boys--the appealing niche they’re easing into bodes very well for album three.

Being adventurous can often mean over-reaching but, in this case, the production turns familiar elements into one of Fucked Up’s most intriguing recordings yet.

Espers, the rockier duo with which she made her name, seem to be on permanent hiatus, but this more than suffices.

It's an intense record that lingers in the memory long after it’s finished.