The likes of Mark Lanegan and Nick Cave have a new rival in the practising of dark musical arts.

This particular release has all the textures, tinkles and poise the listener craves from Moss, while often arming them with some pretty hefty, distorted kicks and bass.

If 2021's Vertigo Days was impressive but remote, News... is more approachable and tactile in its tunes and textures, reflecting a decision to record live in the studio. [Apr 2026, p.108]

Though recorded cheaply, The JPSE’s early material remains especially sublime.

On the whole, Fresh Blood is an often difficult journey that’s still worth taking.

A Dream Is All We Know flows seamlessly, with no snags disrupting its mellow mood-tapestry, right up until final track Rock On (Over And Over) throws us a curveball by actually glamming out, Bolan-style, as if to say, “Here’s what you thought we were about”. Superb.

"Time's wasting out," she sings, but Below The Waste, cultivates a bracingly resourceful mindset. [Jul 2024, p.105]

Those more straightahead tunes hint a sonically-reduced winter could be coming, but right now bask in i,i’s deep autumnal glow.

The results exceed expectations. A feeling of spontaneity, bonhomie and effortless musicality informs every groove. [Dec 2024, p.107]

While you can’t draw a direct line from PT to Anathema, Steven Wilson’s hand is in some of the mixes, but, by standing on the shoulders of giants, bands such as this one have themselves become gargantuan.

That voice is wisely placed front and centre, where it bristles with energy, elevating the superior indie-rock of Fist Of Flowers and Knockin' Heart into heart-in-mouth anthems. [Apr 2025, p.102]

Longtime fans will be pleased to hear that not all of Exai is a mature, intellectual exploration of the possibilities of electronic music.

Parker’s rarely been in better voice, buoyed by the presence of old friends intuitive to his innermost thoughts and intentions.

Though You Can’t Live In The Past beautifully sums up his attitude and ethos, Fingers Crossed will be a worthy cherry to top the colossal, career-encompassing Stranded In Reality set when it lands soon.

It isn't always the easiest of listens, but persistence pays off: XAM Duo is ultimately very rewarding.

He’s on top notch form; sparking, soaring and grinding through five spirited new instrumentals and three from his back catalogue.

Another minor issue is the non-appearance of key outfits The Danse Society, Sex Gang Children and X-Mal Deutschland, though the welcome inclusion of hard-to-source rarities from underrated, short-lived acts Rema Rema, Modern Eon and Dublin experimentalists The Threat ensures that Silhouettes And Statues ultimately makes for a surprisingly joyous celebration of all things dark and deathly.

Almanack was captured in a week on analogue tape by studio vets Ken Scott and Matt Andrews. It shows on the result, a sprightly blast of rootsy playfulness carried with Rawlings’ effortless control of mood and musicianship.

While it may not be the long overdue and richly deserved breakthrough to a mass global audience, it’s another reassuring set of solidly crafted, intelligent adult pop.

There’s rich pleasure everywhere you look: Peter Case’s heartfelt delivery of I Don’t Worry About A Thing, a spectral The Way Of The World by Anything Mose! and Taj Mahal’s nimble, forceful version of the sardonic opener, Your Mind Is On Vacation. The latter offers a thrilling pointer about how high we are going to fly, and includes Bonnie Raitt’s stunning version of Everybody’s Cryin’ Mercy, where her passionate take skilfully unfurls the raging force underpinning the song. Elsewhere, there are blasts of controlled power such as Ben Harper/Charlie Musselwhite’s fiery take on Nightclub.

Latest must-have. .... Not only are most of these renditions drastically different to the originals, Young blends one reimagined song into the next without any pause, producing less of a medley than an epic, multipart ballad. When he’s gone, none will replace him.

Echoes of the past but very much of today. [Mar 2024, p.105]

Ruari Meehan's nuanced production provides for a far more immersive listen. [Dec 2024, p.108]

Young Knives will thrill the faithful, but the lapsed should consider a catch-up, too. [Mar 2025, p.105]

Adebimpe's solo bow is a bracingly personal blast of emotion, invention and radiant positivity. [May 2025, p.102]

Complements her poetic lyrics with intricate, arpeggiated folk guitar to haunting effect. [Jan 2026, p.103]

These are more than covers, more bold reworkings. [Mar 2026, p.102]

This is over-produced and underachieving, [May 2026, p.103]

A fearless oasis of natural calm for a world that desperately need it. [May 2026, p.103]

There are moments of inspiration, such as the alacritous and emphatic I'm On Fire featuring Caveman, but too often it feels committee-led, with potential hits trumping soulfulness. [May 2026, p.101]

End-times prophecies have always been a part of Gorillaz’s world view, but here Damon Albarn’s lyrics allude to personal burnout. There’s something poignant about hearing Stevie Nicks’ weathered voice twin itself to Albarn’s while singing about reaching a place “when you can’t help yourself anymore and the madness come”.

While most tracks capture the hell-for-leather energy and countrified cruises of the Waco Brothers’ renowned live shows, the album also enjoys diversions such as the early Rod Stewart-like ballad Orphan Song and an unlikely but spirited cover of the Small Faces’ All Or Nothing.

Mixing habitual anxieties and a kind of caught-in-the-moment clarity with intuitive fluency, Creature Of Habit is the Sound of an in-character transition smartly captured, bottled with instinctive assurance. [Mar 2026, p.102]

There’s less of the superficial swagger, more mature contemplation and reflection.

Beabadoobee's most charming yet. [Oct 2024, p.100]

It’s a persuasive, heartening, softly seductive little basket of light; and as such is welcome anytime round here.

Start casting the stage version now. [Christmas 2025, p.134]

Their 19th studio album captures the dynamism of Firepower but tweaks the structure a little so that the material is no less heavy but is perhaps less predictable. [Mar 2024, p.103]

It all combines to create an album that, even all these years later, finds them back on top form.

It’s when Villagers are at their most pure--be it on the brilliant chamber pop of Northing Arrived or the pure, instrumental pastoral of the title track--that {Awayland} is strongest; as opposed to when it’s trying to outsource itself to stylistic whimsy or fad.

As with all their post-Y2K output, Carnival Of Souls sometimes threatens to buckle under the weight of Ubu’s history. Overall, however, it scrapes up enough sporadic excellence to justify David Thomas’ perseverance in the 21st-century scheme of things.

What you’re left with is the impression of an artist with her receptors fully open, resulting in a debut reaching far more emotional touch points than you’d expect.

Expanding the boundaries of hip-hop and soul, it’s outstanding stuff which should further enhance the careers and reputations of both.

An ornate folk album that brims with rich orchestration and incisive lyrics. [Jan 2026, p.101]

Between concept and clamorous noise, Exile is the sound of an unflinching, old-school, outsider-punk voice rising to modern challenges.

Paced beautifully, a little funny, sonically on point, and with a wealth of new material for the hardcore, it continually rewards.

It feels self-centred and bored, and is reflected by much of the album’s music.

The truth is finally out. People are talking about the music. People are dancing. People know Fat White Family are better than maybe Fat White Family themselves think they are.

By the time it’s [Ballad Of A Thin Man is] last played (Disc 25, Inglewood, California) it has the feel of the pivotal point in the entire set. It’s an illustration of those moments when the unavoidable repetition of songs serves a genuine purpose, where the listeners’ patience/tolerance is rewarded with a sense they’re party to something truly human; a living, breathing entity that shifts in mood or tone influenced by the size or shape of the room and the response from the people witnessing it first-hand in that particular room.

An attack on the lack of dissenting voices in popular culture, if this isn’t Mason’s bona fide masterpiece, it’s certainly approaching it.

Long-term fans will be delighted, the uninitiated might just find themselves falling for his grouchy charms.

Up has always deserved more love and, 25 years on, this remastered anniversary edition, which adds an enjoyably relaxed live set, gives us a chance to hear it with new ears.

Patience and resolve are required, for there are truly baffling abstractions. ... Yet when Davies knuckles down and crafts glorious, idiosyncratic pop such as Needle & Thread, the slow-burning Chills and vulnerable, Television Personalities-esque Beauty Queen Of Watts, he and his ad hoc Moles can burrow into the very deepest recesses of your heart.

It’s not so much that Robyn Hitchcock (the album) resonates with sonic surprise: its default paradigm of dense, shimmering neo-psychedelia is a home comfort that has sustained Hitchcock from The Soft Boys onwards. It’s more the fact that the bendy mirror through which he refracts experience offers a sharper view year upon year.

Produced by Memphis Boys’ bassist Tommy Cogbill, who had also played on Pickett’s sessions, Arthur Alexander mixes greasy soul with country funk.

Loss Of Life feels more at ease with itself. Happily, though, none of this comes at the expense of the band's exploratory urges. [Feb 2024, p.102]

Taken as a whole, the album recalls the literate elegance of 1993’s Kindness Of The World, albeit with more sharply observed snapshots of the nuts and bolts of romantic relationships.

Sure, there’s a mildly preposterous, posturing axe-warrior in there, but it’s tempered, often joyously, with a self-mocking feminine side here, and makes for some of his most carefree but considered music in a very long time.

Morby is able to conjure vast stretches of beauty, but can also disrupt them, causing dead ends and roadblocks for a listener. City Songs, while by no means an ugly sprawl, perhaps just needed a tad more urban planning.

A remarkable and imaginative album. [Jul 2024, p.106]

All This I Do For Glory is a triumph of ingenuity, a genuinely experimental work that echoes with the multi-faceted cries of the human soul.

How Do You Burn? finds the Whigs in particularly lusty form.

The 80s traditionalists will delight in the euphoric synth-pop of Happy Giddy, but this is a far more ambitious delight than that. Her voice might have got her noticed, but her songwriting’s proving the most extraordinary thing about her these days.

Though he’s undoubtedly an anachronistic anomaly whose idiosyncratic style (think Tom Waits meets Edith Piaf in a 19th Century music hall) appears out of kilter with convention, he has, nevertheless, produced an essential soundtrack to our times.

Low still sound beautiful, but there’s a nagging feeling that The Invisible Way represents a slight drop-off in focus.

These 10 tracks will undoubtedly please longterm fans, even if there's little here that doesn't revisit already well-trodden ground. [Jun 2025, p.103]

The symphonies Fuck Buttons make remain as miasmic as ever: odd and unusual to hear for the first minute or so, before fully entrancing the listener. Beguiling stuff.

It is not that The Optimist is awful, exactly--just uninspiring.

The set mops up a satisfying amount of previously unreleased session material from 1967 and adds the first real stereo mix of the whole Wild Honey LP. ... But the real revelations come with the bonus tracks.

The hardcore will need these and it’s hard to argue with the performances and the sound quality. Both shows find Young introducing new material from Harvest, released later that year, and beyond.

One of 2024's evocatively cool finest. [Jun 2024, p.102]

This time round Walker has brought influences from his native Chicago scene to the forefront of his music, loosening up and expanding his sound with frankly blinding results.

This is an exquisite interpretation of an exceptional album.

Alex Nieto, the story of a police shooting of an innocent man in San Francisco in 2014 closes the album with a fire that recalls an on-form Neil Young. Described by Prophet as his first protest song, it concludes an often exhilarating album.

Much of the album’s promise brews in Boyfriend, where backing band The Big Moon’s Radiohead-ish guitar chimes offer suitably insouciant support to Hackman’s take-down of male arrogance. But substance runs thin elsewhere as Hackman seems unsteady in transition, flicking through styles without finding any that thrill in colourless contrast to The Big Moon’s bright vim.

Expands Pigs’ palette further.

Though a snapshot of a still-embryonic Fugazi, First Demo remains a formidable statement of intent.

At its weakest, Sleeper can come across like Beady Eye--and if there weren’t a US voice behind it, it might well be laughed out of town. However, Segall’s motives seem authentic.

Frequently time-stopping as feeling triumphs over technique, Jones has a rarely-found natural way of displaying dazzling virtuosity. Mum would have been proud.

This is a landmark project in that respect, much of which succeeds in being thoroughly bewitching.

A prime opportunity to taste everything from Haines’ buffet--sweet and savoury alike.

From glam-tinged art-rock to spellbinding chamber-soul, this ever-elegant examination of the heart and the mind is like Bukowski rifling through priceless musical boxes and releasing a thousand hummingbirds. .... Magnificent heaven. [Mar 2024, p.103]

It’s a whole lot of matter for Mind, but it acts as a fascinating documentary, as does the extensive, detailed book. What are the takeaways? It’s like finding a hidden treasure in the middle of a catalogue that is well-known but only partially adored; Out The Blue, Aisumasen (I’m Sorry) and I Know (I Know) are deeply confessional and equal to anything Lennon has ever written. [Aug 2024, p.90]

The album presents a dynamic artistry, full of ideas and emotional power. [Jun 2025, p.105]

Whether this album will find the charismatic Syrian expanding his audience beyond a cult concern remains to be seen, but such well-crafted high-energy dance exotica as the title track and Yagbuni should ensure that Souleyman’s star continues to shine.

As ever, it’s all played with impeccably economical style, tight-as-a-drum country shuffles with occasional jazz excursions; the work of a bona fide legend who’s never sounded more alive.

Greg Dulli’s vocals grow only more aching with age as he transitions from cocky young buck to greying Don Juan. There are jagged riffs and funky organs aplenty; the latter a welcome call-back to last year’s reissue of 1996’s sumptuous Black Love. Yet there’s a fresh emphasis on lush, elegantly experimental arrangements with much snazzy brass and graceful orchestration on show.

Ever-evolving they may be, but Satomi’s oddball pop songs are another band staple; this time they deliver the cutesy, punky, and thoroughly entertaining Nurse Me.

Add curveballs such as From The Dead, a plangent alt. country anthem, and it all adds up to the logical follow-up to 1997’s Album Of The Year. It’s like they’ve never been away.

This is a magnificent album, bridging the generation gap and reminding the listener just how vital and pertinent folk music can be.

Drenched in all manner of trademark effects and sonic inspiration, this Chrome hasn’t lost its shine.

The performances are sterling and there’s a clear intention to deliver rounded albums, not just drifting techno selections.

It’s undeniably darker than its predecessor and it’s largely dominated by dense, guitar-heavy workouts such as the mournfully expansive Delicat (sic), the sombre, hymnal Good Word’s Gone and the acid-flecked freak-out of Crystal Sky.

Winningly, their wit is matched by a thrilling, fizzing set of noisy, melodic songs that ought to inspire utter devotion and soundtrack many, many summers of abandon and heartbreak.

The intention is to capture music and make it sound as if the listener is in the same room as the musicians and certainly, producers and label owners, David and Norman Chesky, achieve that effect with this wonderful album, which finds the quirky Ohio-born singer backed by a jazz quartet that includes guitarist Russell Malone and trumpeter Wallace Roney.

Like Gainsbourg’s music as a whole, there’s too much going on here to do justice to the collection’s many layers.

Stewart hasn’t deviated from his love of pop music history. He understands its nooks and crannies as well as its hooks and melodies and handles them with reverent care.

Rather than damaging their genre-shaping legacy (influencing the birth of thrash and the wider scene in general), they’ve embellished it with a series of albums that could have followed Russian Roulette (1986), with The Rise of Chaos possibly their strongest reunion-era release so far.