Scrape back the artistic pretensions and what's left may be one of 2011's most purely enjoyable, and boldest, records.

While Trees might've been taken as a softening of Moore's abrasive tone, Demolished Thoughts could be viewed as somewhat of a progression, a MORE acoustic venture laden with violin strings and all the passion Moore's voice can conjure.

Street of The Love of Days is intimate and serene, sometimes pastoral, but there's nothing here that would make you miss the city, unless you hate bonfires and the crisp rustle of autumn leaves.

If more is to come, it should bring with it a great deal of anticipation - Colour Trip has a great deal of promise about it, and that, it seems, is hard to miss, even through all the noise.

It's just such a boringly average release that the band seems to have retrogressed into one of the millions of anonymous and pretentious electro-drone bands that exist nowadays.

Since the lyrical content now borders on morose and even sadistic, the music also follows the leader with a muck of baseless solos and thrilling codas to compensate for the otherwise linear compositions.

Apparently The Wombats only managed to write the one song for the album and so have decided to just repeat it ten times, offering little-to-no variation in tone or tempo--although to be fair to them, they do stick a different synth preset on for each song so you can tell them apart.

Pala is music for the here and the now, with a hedonistic samba swing and a cheeky smile – don't start worrying about tomorrow – after all, it's still a day away.

Over the course of this slightly bloated track listing there is too much focus on the soft rock element of her sound and this which works to the detriment of her fascinating lyrics and bewitching theatrics.

This album has failings and successes; it all adds up to a highly commendable record, there's no doubt in that.

Perhaps their impatience gets the best of them, especially in key moments when there's a build up and the momentum suddenly stops without a satisfying conclusion. That aside, An Horse carry on their full-bodied sound with a knack that is much to be desired.

Despite the often dull music, the album is an overall cohesive success. It all ties together well, and it owes its quality to the unwavering confidence of her delivery, both musically and lyrically.

Almost without exception it seems this album delivers good but never great: and, when you put it like that, its clear that good is not good enough.

Overall, I can honestly say that I enjoyed Little Scream and I'm interested to see what she'll do next.

The primary question that you are left asking is why it's taken a man with so much talent so long to release his solo debut? Fortunately there is enough worth and intrigue within this record to keep you occupied until the next one, if there is one.

Talahomi Way is so strongly rooted in a sense of location that it makes little sense in transit on a pair of headphones, where its fine detail is compressed and channelled directly into your ears, and the images painted by the lyrics are forced to compete with your own changing scenery. Music like this needs to inhabit a space, preferably a sunny one.

Even if you've learned to appreciate the methodology of music, or lack there of, there are moments when too much misdirection can make you feel lost instead of dazzled. Nonetheless, this quintet from Leeds deserves at least one very enthusiastic thumb up for this compilation.

This only falls flat when you want more - and that aside, Belong really is a good album.

Burst Apart is a passable follow-up to an incredible record, but that's all it is. Passable.

Smother is an exercise in moderation, trying to find the precise balance between audacious beauty and emotional intelligence. The depraved encounters it presents are brash, risky, and just like its characters, always on the verge of imploding.

By mixing in a few lighter moments amongst all the dark the band do give the impression that they are on the way to becoming something quite special, but they still need to consider letting in a little more colour and variety into their songs before they can achieve this potential.

Euphoric///Heartbreak is not an easy listen--as I've already alluded to, it's a convincing notion that this four-piece remain incapable of that--and while it is more theatrically anthemic than the first album, it is feels equally credible and sincere.

It may be his own manifesto, but when the music is this striking, it makes you appreciate life more.

The bizarre take on folk, pop and anything else she sees fit is enchanting, joyful and thought provoking; it's everything at once.

The English Riviera is a perfectly listenable album, and it's one that will, quite rightly, be the soundtrack to the summers of more than a few, but the often indistinct music and insipid lyrical content mean that it's doubtful if its charms will last through to the autumn.

Take Care isn't without one or two missteps: the rapid-fire drums and nondescript chanting that open Trembling Hands come off a little too much like a cheap Arcade Fire pastiche, while the overlong closing track Let Me Back In is something of an anti-climax.

Smoke Ring For My Halo might not be for everyone, but it will definitely find a wider audience than anything else in Vile's catalogue.

The result isn't a glorious one, that's not really what The Mountain Goats do, but it is a very strong addition to an already vast canon of work.