IV is impeccably produced, one that tailors even the finest details with a delicate brush; even when it disappoints it’s still a joy to listen to since every instrument is mixed to perfection.

You have never heard these songs like they are presented here, and there's a chance you have never heard them better, either.

Inspired by B&S leader Stuart Murdoch’s read of the novel, the soundtrack thankfully veers more towards the bibliophile than the head-banger. Two B&S classics are re-worked, including a spritely updating of the perfect fitting I Know Where The Summer Goes as well as more of a straight read of Get Me Away From Here I’m Dying.

They work best when under the restraints of a three-minute pop song, resolute to achieving guitar resonance in a compact framework.

It's a handsome work, but it really could have done with a bit of judicious editing.

Next to the realized space of OM's previous albums, which has always contributed greatly to the spiritual and meditative focus they convey, Advaitic Songs sounds flat, a detriment to the album which might otherwise be, next to their grandest, OM's most accomplished.

Molly Rankin’s vocals throughout the record compliment the soundscapes perfectly, fanning disappointment with hope whilst exercising a great deal of control--and an admirable lack of bias--over her ponderings.

Her voice single-handedly eliminates all accusations of the sameness that could be shot at the songs, evens the pace of the album, and although it may not make up for the album's flaws entirely, it certainly helps hide them and is reason enough on its own to find enjoyment on this album.

There’s a deferential tone to Light Information that suggests he’s never really going to change his signature shtick, and even if we always know what to expect, it always feels like a warm return home from an always generous friend.

Hiss Spun is the first record from Chelsea Wolfe that commits entirely to the more catastrophic elements of her repertoire, and the results are equal parts stunning and terrifying.

9 1/2 Psychedelic Meditations on British Wrestling of the 1970s and Early '80s is, other than a long title, a quintessentially Luke Haines record, it's just not one of his best

There’s enough here to please die-hard fans.

Perhaps the most rousingly, entertainingly, ridiculously dumb record that 2013 will have to offer.

What they do rhythmically and spatially sounds great: the expanse, the air, the solid bass rhythms and percussive malleability.

Sweep It Into Space obviously can’t rival that career high, but it is a leading candidate for their best post-reformation effort.

Golden Grrls have put out a happy, smiley little record that doesn't overstay its welcome.

Their willingness to embrace worldly influences--and infuse their own urbanity--into their arrangements is crucial with regards to enabling the spirited reveries to accommodate the twins’ extrasensory wordplay, bringing a stability to the arbitrary grooves.

The overall sound may be modest, but in context, will most likely relate with those fortunate enough to live an affluent, fanciful lifestyle.

Seemingly straight out of 1970, The Making of You is a lovely album to which to reminisce about pre-pandemic times.

After such a wonderful introduction, however, the rest of the album devolves into a strictly hit or miss affair.

Aromanticism is downright beautiful but is also too enamored with its sensual aura, which sometimes exposes his uneven vocal acrobatics.

Range Anxiety is a deeply considered listen, one that relinquishes the audacious idiosyncrasies of Underlay EP in favor of a more scrupulous and intrinsic approach.

The final three songs aren’t quite as engaging, but it’s clear that Sorry have done enough to ensure Cosplay is worth revisiting—even if a few judicious clicks on the skip button will be necessary.

For their first official release on Secretly Canadian, Bodies of Water sound concise, powerful and eclectic.

She does blur the country influences to the point where they're almost unrecognizable, which does broaden her audience even if it diminishes crucial aspects of her personality. But as Golden Hour quietly unfurls, it makes Musgraves's intent all the more potent.

Respectably, Sun Airway do constantly challenge themselves by taking the unexplored route of achieving sturdy compositions through electronic textures, especially in a time when house and nu-rave are fast becoming indie's current electronic touchstones.

There are at least five tracks here which are a class apart from anything else they’ve written, and hint at a dexterity and professionalism that hadn’t really been previously evident. On the other hand, it’s probably the least consistent of Slow Club’s three albums so far.

It’s not Pixies as you’d like to remember them, but for the first time in years it sounds as if they’re actually enjoying themselves.