Songs such as the joyous To Be Loved (classic couplet, “Each day feels like a weekend when you’re around”) shows that, in her eighth decade, Joan Armatrading CBE is far from resting on past achievements.

Even on a record of many detours, the closing three tracks are uniquely surprising. [Jan 2025, p.104]

A worthy addition to the Kuti legacy. [Sep 2025, p.104]

Deceptively simple, Morning Phase rewards repeated immersion.

An absolute joy of a debut.

For the most part, though, it’s a hugely enjoyable and very welcome return.

In fully embracing his strengths, Cunningham has delivered his most fully realised work.

This is one holiday destination you really should explore.

Expressive and resonant, this is an accomplished work. [Christmas 2025, p.133]

Leaves us keen to hear what she does next. [Apr 2026, p.106]

Though Acoustic Recordings doesn’t quite offer a parallel discography, it is a reminder of some easily overlooked moments in White’s ever expanding discography.

By the time the album ends with a sprawling I Don't Live Here Anymore, which boasts sparkling keyboards and chiming riffs the emotional catharsis is deeply satisfying. [Dec 2024, p.109]

The storytelling is more linear and less elliptical than we might expect from Anderson, though any restraint in the storytelling services the cinematic scope of the project, where soundscapes segue with ease as vertiginous strings swoop and dive, and Anohni provides vocal interjections. [Sep 2024, p.130]

With these band versions, Oberst seems more removed, drowned out by unnecessary country embellishments that only dilute the passion and emotion of the originals. That’s not to say these are bad, but they just aren’t quite as heart-stoppingly, heartbreakingly brilliant. Less, as it turns out, can be much more.

On their 15th attempt, producer James Ford rides the faders and filters to shape Chris Lowe's synths into the perfect balance of modernity and timelessness. [May 2024, p.103]

It doesn’t always work: Lonely At The Top is a minimalist, spoken-word piece set to odd clicking noises that doesn’t really bear repeated listens. For the most part, however, this is a brave, forward-thinking collection that will be required listening for any fans of electronica.

Across the album as a whole he works towards a sort of mid-world territory, between air and water, dream and reality.

Particularly breathtaking are rafter-raising renditions of 99 And A Half Won’t Do, Out Of The Wilderness, Glory Glory Hallelujah and Move Upstairs, though everything is really ace here.

Arguably superior, its confident follow-up The Knowledge is again enriched with songs relating to Difford and Tilbrook’s old stamping grounds.

An album that's one long masterstroke. [Christmas 2024, p.132]

This anthemic approach will undoubtedly work in a live setting, tracks such as Flowers In The Rain ad=nd the Evocative I Will Set Fire To The House indicate a wide repertoire. Fascinating to see how they develop their sound next time round. [Jan 2025, p.105]

But whether or not Tower Block In A Jam Jar changes his fortunes to any great degree, as an introduction to Lawrence’s singularly weird and wonderful world, it’s an ideal place to start. [Nov 2025, p.100]

While there is little new ground being broken on this debut album – DJ Spinna and Onra have both pursued similar territory--Kaytranada adds a pop nous and Dilla-like beat-making precision to the equation.

Lateness Of Dancers has the unmistakable aura of a deep classic. It is a US masterpiece. A wonderful thing, for sure.

One of this set’s major strengths lies in the equal space given to fleeting names who made their statements then vanished.

Perrett’s mordant wit and laconic vocal delivery are happily intact and his current band (which includes sons Jamie and Peter Jr) sympathetically top and tail these 10 memorably idiosyncratic odes to love and despair. Highlights are heady and plentiful.

Monomania retains those same Deerhunter kernels if you’re willing to forage. You might get your fingers grubby, but the fruit, often deep inside the shell, is still delicious.

Overall, Source is a thing of wondrous beauty, revealing that the hyperbole accompanying Garcia patently isn't out of proportion to her talent. [Sep 2020, p.101]

At times the full band arrangements bring more muscle than we’re used to hearing from her, but songs such as Divine and the closing Worship Me are certainly in the vein of what’s come before.

The element of smoothness cloaking the emotions could either impress the listener with its beauty or wash over them completely. The hit rate here perhaps isn’t quite high enough for the former, but the album deserves some attention for illustrating the exuberant joy of the black dog turning away from one’s door and walking on down the street.

Only on the opening cut do they attempt anything that could be construed as radical, marrying The Two Sisters, a child ballad with roots stretching back to the 16th century, to a Scottish jig, A Fisherman’s Song For Attracting Seals. It works beautifully, as do all of the following eight tracks, delivered with reverence and entirely free of pretension.

While the Toy highlight Shadow Man introduces “… a man back a-ways/Who believes at where he is”, at this stage of his career, David Bowie could reflect on where he’d been with pride – including, as Brilliant Adventures shows, another decade of committing to himself.

Occasionally too impressionistic at the expense of a coherent song, Morton nonetheless races past standard traps of actors' musical diversions. [Jul 24, p.106]

Strike A Match runs the risk of becoming a little too chaotic as Aggs and Rodgers throw everything in at once; their flair for reflective lyricism sadly becomes a little lost in the crowd.

The comp is thoughtfully subdivided by mood/demeanour, with each disc respectively entitled Rock Off!, Tubthumpers & Hellraisers and Elegance & Decadence. The successfully realised intention is to demonstrate that there was more to glam than just implacable, sequin-shedding, mindless stomping--though some of us would be perfectly content with three discs’ worth of just that.

They’re a classic singles band, but Jason Williamson’s pit of needle-sharp, evocative lyrics seems bottomless, so here comes another meaty full-length selection.

An album precision-pitched between angst and optimism, tension and release.

There's a lot to admire about Hovvdy's quiet wonder - and a lot to skip over too. [Jul 2024, p.105]

Amyl's best album yet is also their most varied, finding the messy dumb fun in a mad dangerous word. [Dec 2024, p.106]

The ghost Nation majors in slow-burn melodies that soar serenely, with nothing edging excessively over the seven-minute mark and the band maintaining a majestically unhurried pace. [Dec 2025, p.100]

There are some wrong turns, but there's ample fierce flair here to suggest Modern Woman could join the likes of English Teacher at the top of the 2020s class. [May 2026, p.103]

Such a willingness to experiment is often claimed to be the secret of his longevity, and if that throws up the odd clunker now and again, the other results more than make up for them.

Aas Blanck Mass he’s always presented a rawer sound. While his third full-length looks to take that to an extreme, compared to his recent live shows, it falls just slightly flat.

The country-rock songwriting tones of Tired Of Being Alone and Falling Into The Sun are rich and expansive, the themes of finding comfort and purpose in middle-age – whether through rekindled romance (I Left A Light On, I Will Love You), artificial means (Self-Sedation) or self-reflection (Middle Of My Mind) – ring true, and big emotions continue to be captured, seemingly without effort, on their canvas.

Unusually for the average album (which this is decidedly not), every track here is distinctive; a cinematic, mind-scramblingly complex yet cohesive mini-epic.

Though recording since the 90s, Nichols seems to have found his feet by blending his lifelong country, soul, hip-hop and reggae influences then capturing them on tape with the southern soul intimacy of Tony Joe White.

What’s most remarkable about Revival revisited is perhaps not the attention to detail of the arrangements, nor the determination to recapture every last fuzz, thrum, reverb and flourish heard on the first studio versions. Anyone listening to Fogerty’s testifying rasps on Have You Ever Seen The Rain? or Bad Moon Rising 50-plus years ago, might have expected him to have roared himself mute by now. But no, the power and presence of the voice haven’t weakened in the slightest. [Sep 2025, p.104]

Rich, warm and suffused with a lambent light of hope, A Bridge To Far sustains Midlake’s core values with a spirit of care and community that seems built to endure. [Dec 2025, p.102]

While some will still view the album as a 30-minute intro to a track that never starts, others will want to pull this cacophonous duvet up to their chins and luxuriate in what might just be the most sumptuous, atmospheric and varied SunnO))) album to date.

It’s all fine enough, but doesn’t leave much of a lasting impression.

While not quite equal to its predecessor, Divide And Exit offers plenty to get your teeth into.

While the relaxed vibe is continuous, the music isn’t repetitive but there’s nothing really new here: rather it’s an extension of what Sade’s band Sweetback and trumpeter Roy Hargrove’s RH Factor were doing well over a decade ago. Even so, it’s an enthralling fusion of sounds and styles.

The results plugs directly into Tron's AI-apocalypse mainframe. It's the end of teh world as we know it, essentially, but NIN fit in just fine. [Christmas 2025, p.134]

Either titled as a lark, or a worrying admission that, as the 70s dawned, Dylan had run out of ideas and was content to waste everyone’s time with tepid cover recordings.... If anything, it further muddies the waters.

The buoyant Abigail and the jangly dream-pop of Some Sunny Day lend the album some welcome lightness in the face of the melancholy that we all have to endure at times. [Dec 2024, p.108]

Despite the addition in places of cello, e-bow guitar, banjo and synthetic choirs, little has really changed in Eric’s sound or style of delivery, but that’s no bad thing, and the songs are as exquisitely quirky and personal as ever.

Hippopotamus is exactly what you’d expect and more besides.

Starts out as you might expect from an electronic album made by Yorke mid-pandemic: a sort of cold, edgy, distant electronica for a cold, edgy, distant world. .... But in-between, the album takes some unexpected turns. .... An album that resonates in uncertain times. [May 2025, p.104]

Why Make Sense? is a record painted in broad strokes. There are optimistic bangers – that lead single has a scintillating build, taking the listener ever upwards, with Alexis Taylor’s falsetto laced over it; even for Hot Chip, it immediately sounds like a floor-filler. But there are also slow jams.

The feeling you’re left with after listening is one of calm. So, mission accomplished on all counts.

Woolf Works, like SLEEP, is instantly accessible, its noise and careful hand holding often startlingly modern and never once patronising. A thing of beauty.

His distinctive approach, with its palpable rock and country elements is indebted more to Bill Frisell than Wes Montgomery.

The feel that McCombs as an “artist at work”, given carte blanche, is prevalent. Dreaded jams are not cut back, verses sprawling and unpruned. And despite this, his usual delicious chaos seems absent.

Where Simpson truly scores is in the ease with which he ponders life’s bigger questions while couching them in familiar country language and sounds.

In trying times, Wilco have found some joy in creativity and made another album true to themselves, full of “poetry and magic” to console and inspire.

An instrumental album that never fails to hold the listeners attention, with a plethora of quotable passages and delightful moments. A coming of age album.

It’s an ambitious collision of worlds that Holden and The Animal Spirits pull off with style.

Look for signs of grief if you must, but Sparhawk's return is a dramatic adventure on any terms. [Oct 2024, p.103]

The forceful pace and commanding lyric-mangling that originally brought them to the public’s attention are still very much in place.

This might be a bit noisier than their newer fans are used to, but they won’t do much better than starting at Numero uno.

An album of fevered imagination and boundless musical daring. [Dec 2024, p.107]

Dylan Sharp and Carrie Keith back their deftly penned songs with the kind of delicate sonic weirdness that demands attention without distracting from the principal communicative mission of the tune and its lyrics. They might proclaim to be out of range but Gun Outfit are still right on target.

Amid choppy tales of panic attacks (En Forma) and break-ups (the Can't Stand Me Now-ish On My Own), Coffee's disarmingly breezy valentine to self-indulgence serves dreamy catharsis. [Nov 2024, p.100]

It’s a record that increasingly rewards with each play, the subtleties and subtext revealed slowly, teased into view by deceptively unobtrusive musical accompaniment. Ellis’ punctuations of the words serve a similar purpose to melodic hooks in traditional pop songs, setting the groundwork for the lyrical beauty of the source material to haunt our thoughts long after the album’s over.

It’s an ethereal, atmospheric set, though the busyness of the band has the occasional tendency to swamp the songs, the singer’s emotive power at its most affecting on the stripped-bare stately piano ballad A Stolen Kiss.

Larry Williams, Johnny ‘Guitar’ Watson and The Kaleidoscope hook up for some psychedelic sitar grooves you thought you’d never hear; Jim Ford’s Rising Sign is a fuzzy swamp-funk-rock beast that pummels you into submission.

On the whole, Sorceress is a decent album, but Opeth are capable of more.

Crimson/Red is self-referencing précis of his career to date, with the melodic elegance and lyrical insight we’ve come to expect but have been denied for so long.

You may variously be reminded of The Left Banke, The Byrds, The Mystery Trend, the Face To Face-era Kinks with their oft-tinkled harpsichord and even--in a recurrent, snakily-phrased vocal tic--Beck circa 1996 and The New Pollution.

Strangers feels as if it’s trying to fit into a radio-friendly country narrative that’s surely already passed.

True, it’s rarely a subtle listen, continually more light than shade, but almost 20 years after its release, … Morning Glory can still excite. Some Might Say remains an awful drudge of a lead single, but the rest, pretty much in its entirety, is surprisingly refreshing to revisit.

Blessed with a raw, punchy sound, however, Black Beauty is far superior, more eclectic and fully-realised [than Reel To Real].

West Kirby County Primary sounds like it was recorded anywhere but. It’s a beautifully performed and produced record, tender, intimate and close, yet with moments of real physical power.

Palomino is by no means a bad album--the songs are well constructed, everyone plays well, the harmonies are tight and accurate, it’s delivered with heart--though it does sound slightly as though it has been recorded in a box. The trouble is, it does not bring much new or original to the party.

There’s a fair amount of whimsy, sure (and at points you feel a lava lamp and joss sticks might appear), but this focused, emotional side to Hanson is a welcome addition to this body of work.

It might have taken four years to map out, but Tall Ships’ latest voyage is one that very much deserves discovery.

Lean, precise and purposeful, its 12 tracks whistle by in little more than 35 minutes; its production, in keeping with the limitations of lockdown, is deliberately pared down. There are other flutters of experimentation – the title track is an unfastened groove that struts like Ian Dury on a mystical funk trip – but it’s the simple melodic strength that binds the songs together.

Infused with ennui and a fascination with death, with a sense of teenage mopiness hitting the listener like waves of passive aggression coming through a bedroom wall. Nevertheless, it's not without its charm. [Aug 2024, p.105]

A major talent continues to flourish. [Sep 2024, p.131]

Pom Poko follow 2021's jazz-tinged Cheater with more straightforward, earworm-y songwriting. [Oct 2024, p.103]

That dance between light and shade is assisted by an Ian Broudie production which juxtaposes the jaunty with the jaundiced. All human life isn’t here – not quite – but the life that’s here is wonderfully human. [Nov 2024, p.99]

With Hayden's measured voice resembling a sigh from the grave and her plucked banjo brittle, When I Was In My prime exemplifies the record's sustained evocations of melancholy poise and elemental emotions. [Mar 2025, p.103]

A record built around contemplations on healing and taking on your demons isn't always a soothing ride, though - at times the quirky freak folk elements come to the fore, somewhat shaking up the ground for meditation. Still, A Blade Because A Blade Is Whole is a bold and successful attempt to express oneself as he is. [Apr 2025, p.102]

He was at Slowhand's side for MTV Unplugged, and this Vinyl/download release has very much the same vibe. [Apr 2025, p.102]

There's a freaky, hippy-ish feel. [Apr 2025, p.101]

Panic Shack are the antidote to sad-sack girl singers: they make being a young woman sound absolutely brilliant. [Sep 2025, p.105[

A record which explodes Yorkston's typically understated, open-hearted songwriting with a fierce emotional interplay between the three voices at work here. [Sep 2025, p.105]

The ideas - hardly in short supply - fail to crystallise in the way they did on recent high-water marks Aulos (2000) and Multiversum (2002). [Feb 2026, p.103]