Another big step for Silberman and required listening for any Americana aficionados.

Throughout, Amos' playing is brilliant, ranging from savagely intense on Life Signs to Nights In Amor's classic FM radio pop. Yet the highlight is full-on techno monster Playing Classics, six minutes of delirious abandon. A beautiful place is right. [Oct 2025, p.133]

Along with the melodic, melancholic vocal mumblings and minimalist drum beats, the overall atmosphere is that of a hazy, underwater dream.

Wainwright has returned with a generous and positive record that suggests a more mature, philosophical perspective, thankfully without losing his impish sense of humour and taste for lavish arrangements.

It’s a bold and vibrant experiment that, over its beguiling 40 minutes, realigns the piece’s hypnotic power to the trance-inducing qualities inherent in Malian music.

Fever Dreams Pts 1-4 is some great reward for the Marr faithful, a hope-fuelled 16-song set mounted on a generous, expansive balance of scope and detail.

Although there’s nothing as lyrically sharp as Content Nausea, as raucous as Sunbathing Animal or as brash as Light Up Gold, Human Performance hits all the right notes for a band with a lot of ground to cover.

Too many of the witty lines feel forced to scan, and the electronics, once subtle and suggestive, are heavy-handed. There are charms though. Down Here is lusciously Eels-like, and Tracey Thorn’s star role on Disappointing vamps with a definite strut. It’s just, after PGG’s fabulous right turn, for this album to plough forwards in the same direction seems a wasted opportunity.

It’s not so much that these two work well together, but that they work well in spite of each other. There are obviously two very different musical personalities on show, but where they meet is a convenient hinterland that somehow manages to honour the music they love.

Arguably his most intimate and revealing album yet. [Mar 2026, p.102]

Genuinely experimental, A Hermitage is a tremendously exciting release which demonstrates there is still new territory to be explored in heavier music; it need not always rely on tried and tested formulae. Jambinai are proof that it is better to be brave.

Purgatory is a formidable equal to the Southern states snapshots Steve Earle took on Copperhead Road, and the largely acoustic melodies and arrangements will have some listeners checking the sleeve to make sure they’re not playing a long lost record by The Band. Yes, the likes of Price and Simpson have returned country to impressive heights, and Childers has the weaponry in his arsenal to take it even higher.

A mature and complex collection.

An exciting follow up to 2014’s Foundations Of Burden that edges the band’s sound forward while keeping sight of what they do best, Heartless is a glorious open wound that bleeds melody. Right on.

Not Even Happiness is intent on taking us back to the garden and in these cynical times, perhaps there’s a vacuum across the ocean for artists that are warmer, purer, less needy than the careerist indie-rock that has gone before. Long may this Morning Dove not Tweet.

Liberated by the lack of drums, the songs are fluid and exploratory, organic yet tinged with electronica. The feathery settings range freely, creating room for the variably thoughtful, reflective and playful lyrics to breathe. [Apr 2025, p.104]

Throughout, G straddles clarity and complexity with deceptive ease.

It’s a hypnotic, jam-heavy set that really benefits from the double vinyl treatment; its pleasures are a little too much to take in one continuous sitting.

Both halves are part of the ever-changing whole, ebbing and flowing, lyrics taking in the reality of life, from doing the shopping to grander visions. [Apr 2025, p.105]

[The] process of sonic expansion is continued apace on this latest effort.

With the cleaner production (and techno wizard Trentemøller’s post-production) serving to highlight rather than smooth its bristling urgency and naked emotion, it seems destined to win hearts and minds.

You’re left feeling that much of Painted Ruins could be a slow-burn grower, if those studiously painted collages were more emotionally inviting.

A unique, wide-eyed feeling of awe and wonder underpins all the lush melodies (see I Am Learning), but with The Kid’s lyrics offering a thoughtful counterpoint to all the loved-up ambience.

While this isn’t an album of chart hits, a pop sensibility is evident in the way that they treat music-making as primarily a challenge of curation. So, myriad high-pedigree producers and instrumentalists abound, and yet somehow, a cohesive aesthetic emerges.

It’s bold stuff, but if you were taking any solace that the Trump catastrophe would at least inspire some great art, The Future And The Past serves as Exhibit A.

Over When It's Over flirts with the dance floor while the hushed Whatever You Want is worthy of Tapestryeta Carole King, as a driven and articulate artist confidently finds her feet again. [May 2024, p.105]

Epic stuff. [Mar 2026, p.105]

It’s certainly fun, and a charming period piece. However, the most revelatory moments are the solo Pop Profile interviews, two at the end of each CD.

Brigid Mae Power’s 2016 debut was a beautiful, dreamy affair. So is The Two Worlds--but so much better.

This tribute has been a long timing coming, but it doesn’t quite do justice to an artist whose integrity ultimately saw him turn his back on fame.

It’s wholly recommended.

It’s that signature weather-battered baritone that provides the most goosebumping moments however, crooning into the sunset about love, loss and failure.

Mary Casio is another cohesive collection, glued together by the slightly silly yet still thought-provoking storyline, which regards the life story of an obscure imaginary electronic composer, who is set upon space travel.

Ostensibly half an hour of instrumentals, recent Walker converts should tread carefully but long-time watchers should come along for the latest excursion in this evolving ride. Things could get wild.

All told, this engaging project shows how a geographical move can inspire a fascinating musical style, and an unexpected one to boot.

It’s clear that Watson has studied the classics, but rather than repeat the past, he’s created something modern, fresh, exciting and potentially classic.

From heavy skiffle to serpent gods to ponderings on Pacino, noir and mortality, this charms and challenges.

Brothers & Sisters may also be the last recorded work of Mason’s friend and recurrent collaborator Martin Duffy – a fine way for him to finish, on an album full of intelligence and love.

Another winner with their seventh album. A big part of its success is down to smart collaborations. [Christmas 2024, p.131]

Although a couple songs don't fully capture Neale's compositional skills, the closing track There From Here is a tremendous highlight. [Sep 2025, p.105]

Between bookending tracks Why Is The Lion?/Bride Of The Lion, reflections on modern fars both, (Everybody's Got A) Friend Named Joe and Vietnam Sunshine meditate gracefully and playfully on friendship and commitment. Spare settings offer breathing room, with strings, sax, flute and more colouring in the songs' fringes. [Mar 2026, p.103]

The sassy European and fraught, fatalistic Bilbao also have their moments, though there’s too great a reliance on mid-tempo numbers and the proto-punk aggression hinted at sadly fails to materialise.

World’s Gone Wrong may well turn out to be a landmark release in Lucinda Williams’ career. But it’s not only its uncompromising lyrical message but its musical direction that raises questions. You can’t recapture lightning in a bottle, and it may be that her future lies in a less quirky, more strident genre than previously. And that’s a choice she has earned the right to make. [Jan 2026, p.98]

Spoon have been together for over 20 years now, yet it’s clear from this ninth full-length that their inspiration remains plentiful. In fact, Hot Thoughts is a surge of vivid creativity that veers between straightforward indie-pop and more experimental art pop.

The real magic on 50 doesn’t come from the coterie of younger tyros, but the great buck himself. The frailty of the 75-year-old’s voice (he’ll be 76 when this album comes out) can render homespun parables as biblical portents, in much the same way that Rick Rubin reinvented Johnny Cash as a latter-day Nostradamus.

Inferno, then, may not afford Robert Forster the mainstream acceptance that’s eluded him for so long, but it gets him back in the game and proves he’s recaptured the magic he once needed to keep ahead of his best buddy in his metaphorical rear-view mirror.

Bonnie’s smoky take of the INXS funker Need You Tonight and a rollicking version of Los Lobos’s Shakin’ Shakin’ Shakes. Another Grammy on the way? That would almost certainly seem to be the case.

It’s a solid, sturdy listen, with flourishes of electronics that bring sparkle, but much less of the pop sheen that was evident on Here Come The Bombs.

A mischievous balladeer with a spicier bag of ingredients than most folk heroes, Joe Strummer was a one-off. There’s little doubt he left his mark, but his more personal work is perhaps still overlooked in favour of his iconic punk fare. This intriguing set will go some way towards correcting that.

The biggest triumphs lie in the quietly assured orchestration of Body To Flame (a matching mole for Jeff Buckley’s Grace) and the title track, which calls to mind Yankee Hotel Foxtrot-era Wilco).

A debut album that suggests anything is possible.

The GOASTT wig out like shamen throughout Midnight Sun.

Sound Of The Morning displays an irrepressible knack for songwriting. There’s a nimbleness, too. ... A real treat.

The Ones Ahead is billed as his first collection of new music in nearly 20 years, but it feels no less vital or inventive than his most celebrated work.

They're good at what they do but when songs like Double Negative kick in, those with older record collections might find their hands instinctively twitching towards their Wire LPs. [Feb 2024 p.103]

Critical Thinking lashes out against the ills of the modern world and asks vital questions about the purpose of art and their own relevance. If that sounds heavy, it’s mostly set to some of the most uplifting music of their career, all shimmering, arpeggiated 80s indie, exultant choruses, and their take on the Big Music (Bunnymen, early Simple Minds, Waterboys) that set the teenage Manics’ hearts racing. [Jan 2025, p.100]

A woozy, jazzy soundscape. [Apr 2026, p.98]

Their fourth album’s trembling vocals address mortality, heartbreak, collapse, resilience, different extremities of weather, running to someone and leaving the city at night. Such earnestness is offset nicely by jaunty synthesizer sounds and admirably expressive drum work. It remains unfortunate that Wolf Parade have never reached the fascinating twitchiness of their heroes Modest Mouse.

As with the name (the band is actually from NYC), there’s a satisfying contrariness throughout a curious and sometimes excellent set.

On her follow-up Cornish dominates and the results are smoother round the edges, more considered, heck, even mature.

From its bossa nova kick to its slabs of heavy organ, Kofi Psych sounds like an attempt to conjure The Doors’ Break On Through (To The Other Side) from a half-remembered conversation, while Say The Truth bears unlikely fruit from its cross-pollination of highlife rhythms, celestial early prog and The Strawberry Alarm Clock. Sadly, Essilfie-Bondzie died as this compilation was in the works but, as this set often shows, his legacy is assured.

If the title track is effectively Bowie's It's No Game (No 1) on steroids and Druantia has you checking the label copy for an Eno credit, there's an intensity of commitment and a density of sound to both that wrestles you into submission. Things let up on redemption ballad I Belong To. [Oct 2024, p.103]

There are subtler, sometimes surprising, details lurking in the main maelstrom. Also in contrast to that cathartically apocalyptic racket, the duo have added some nice warm brass parts. [Christmas 2024, p.131]

It's as widescreen as anything he's ever done. He's back. [Jun 2025, p.105]

It’s Allison’s ongoing development as a songwriter that really shines here. Clean now feels like preparation for the emotional and musical strength of this record: a quiet acknowledgment of the tough times that life throws at you.

Fading Frontier seems to be Deerhunter’s most crystal-clear record to date. Nine times out of 10, it’s precisely this clarity that allows their miasma of messages to hit home the hardest.

The Next Day is certainly his most engaging and intriguing since Outside. For now, that’s more than enough.

Holy Ghost [is] their best effort yet.

It’s an easy-on-the-ear, hard-on-the-shoe-leather set.

For the most part, this album of amiable desert blues lacks the fire that lit up its predecessor.

If Condition does not herald a radical artistic reincarnation, it does involve a subtler devolution into a slightly more primitive form.

In short, it’s another essential compilation of vintage music from the peerless Analog Africa, whose contents should further strengthen Benin’s reputation as one of the African continent’s most important musical centres.

Throughout, a balance of reflection and celebration is finely struck: while Feist-sung elegy What Happens Now is a tender beauty, Paying For Your Love blasts off like an indie E Street Band in full flow. [May 2026, p.101]

Hiss Spun is easily a contender for her best work.

Crowell continues to stake his claim as one of the genre’s most learned and accomplished performers, and if there is a gripe it’s that, at 11 tracks, the party’s over way too soon.

While Find Me Finding You won’t necessarily offend dyed-in-the-woofer Stereolab aficionados--no apple need ever fall far from such an efflorescent tree--it still successfully stakes out a corner of its own, its abstract yet meticulously formal layers suggesting an aural Mondrian painting.

What really sets Total Strife Forever apart is Doyle’s vocal ability.

True Meanings is, on the surface, a traditionally introspective singer-songwriter record, but such a reductive description runs the risk of underselling a package that contains some of the most accessible, thought-provoking and downright enjoyable music of his lengthy career. The vibes are resolutely bucolic, embellished just the right amount by a chamber orchestra.

If you ever liked Spain, Galaxie 500 or Mazzy Star, this is for you. Smoky, reverb-heavy melodies that gently noodle off nowhere slowly, this compilation of released tunes and salvaged demos contains much for the heads.

Most of these instrumentals packs a punch, and in a variety of different ways. For the most part, crucially, it sounds as though the musicians are enjoying themselves. [Dec 2025, p.103]

Depending on whether or not you’ve encountered him before, this is either an infectious comeback or one seriously charming introduction.

Over the course of an hour, Straight Songs unloads a lifetime of pain. But there is a happy ending to this story. Whereas much of the album has him merely “hanging on”, by Eden Lost And Found – a track built from a mobile phone recording of his wife messing around with an old Casio keyboard – he has embraced survival and moves towards his new dawn with, if not quite piranha teeth, then a mischievous, Cheshire cat grin.

A wonderful debut that's heartbreaking and heartwarming in equal measure. [Mar 2025, p.104]

Her evocative vocals are stunning, heard on tracks such as Strange Delights and Finding Mirrors. Just occasionally, her voice and harp are too submerged, notably on Through The Din, where the rhythmic groove feels overwhelming. However, the glorious instrumental Cloudbreath blends the album's rich components brilliantly, as do the next tracks, Garden and Into The Sun. [Feb 2024, p.101]

A beautiful, haunted, haunting album; hear it.

The brisk Don't Forget You're Mine harbours a dicier wake-up call ("A good slap is what you need"), though the Wurlitzer-enhanced La Nageuse Nue reunites with The Choir to advocate "a cleansing": becalmed advice for a troubled world on a coolly composed album of healing and harmony. [Mar 2024, p.105]

From the very start, the listener is made to feel as if they're in the room with the band, privy to an unfiltered outpouring of creativity. [Jul 2024, p.106]

It's most intriguing when Lennox deviates from catchy pop nuggets. [Apr 2025, p.103]

This is a smash-up-the-house, get drunk, pull faces kind of record. And most probably his best.

The first album in this collection is a rather spotty affair, suffused with dread, as if the band are suddenly experiencing a moment of self-awareness. Still, by most other group’s standards it would be a career stand-out. It’s Leaves Turn Inside You, though, on which Unwound’s legacy rests. A thrillingly diverse exploration of the possibilities of rock’n’roll.

There are touches of Warren Zevon in the title track and a smidgen of Squeeze in string-laden first single A Little Smile (from the Amsterdam session, which elsewhere features guest vocalist Mitchell Sink), but the lyrics are typically wordy Jackson fare and ensure continuity.

These nine largely piano-based songs are sumptuous yet graceful compositions that re-establish Bachmann as a truly exceptional songwriter.

A somber experience to the very end then, Piano Magic’s message--and sound--remains unsettling for the uninitiated. But there’s always warmth there, and when lounged in for long enough, it puts the chills to bed with some finality.

IV is simply packed to its dank rafters with monstrous riffs, muggy low-mixed vocals and more discordant amp noise than you could shake a deaf stick at.

Recorded with Grammy winning producer Matt Ross-Spang and a host of Mississippi sessionerati, Sweet Kind Of Blue is perfectly soulful and understated.

Few singer-songwriters in the modern folk firmament are as eloquent and articulate as Oxford-born Gilmore, and The Counterweight can lay claim to being her most perfectly realised album since her 2003 breakthrough Avalanche.

You unpeel this 12-song collection’s layers track by track, with repeat listens yielding new surprises as rifts and melodies that you missed first time around float to the fore.

The title fits: tender, tumultuous and titanic, Wolf Alice sound like a band for life.