[Producer John "Spud" Murphy] brings a sense of space and simplicity to the music, the better to listen to Savage's warm, consoling voice and lyricism. [Jan 2025, p.105]

Roberts’ latest work is full of sonic space and warmth: an intimate and classically manifested set of tracks in which his melodic arpeggio fingerwork on the guitar is reflected by a soft and expressive voice.

In short, this compact collection is all quite interesting, and the Rashad Becker mastering makes it sound appropriately big, but it’s essentially one for the black turtleneck crowd, and sports soberly black artwork in order to ram the point home.

There’s the odd filler track, such as Phantom Bride--an experimental shriekathon, which even guitar parts from special guest Jerry Cantrell of Alice In Chains can’t save--but those aside, Gore is an album with the depth and emotional range that Deftones fans have come to expect.

There is heart here, despite the often airless production, deliberately claustrophobic, like the city that inspired it. Repeated listens make the gems shine brighter.... Yet other moments weather less well, sounding exactly like what they are: raw material worked up in just five days.

Distance Inbetween may not sound entirely like they are back on top form yet, but that’s not to suggest they’re far off.

Occasionally, the rhinestone pop of Carter’s earlier records sneaks into the mix, but for the most part this is a cheery celebration of the old timey tunes she remembers from when she was knee-high to a sharecropper’s shin.

Beautifully played, arranged to perfection, crystal clear recording and production with the vocals to the fore, but cushioned by immaculate musicianship. A classic of the genre.

[The Glowing Man] finds Swans ever so slightly more playful, and on the cusp of a new era.

This is intimate, timeless music performed with respect, tenderness and a heavy heart. Just another Unthanks record then.

This is exactly the album Gallagher should be making to remind people how good he can be.

A covert moral conscience underpins Williamson’s lyrics, in among the barbed and barbarous wit, the austere reportage, the vitriolic calumny and the pop-culture detritus: and, almost despite itself, the scattergun English Tapas can’t help but represent a telling state-of-the-nation address.

Six years on, Crack-Up is deeper, richer and more literate (starting with the title’s F Scott Fitzgerald debt), overflowing with ideas and destabilising tonal shifts. You might call it challenging, but Fleet Foxes were never likely to settle for anchoring comeback gestures of easy reassurance: rather, Crack-Up re-asserts their exalted tug on the heart by testing it at ever-greater distances from known shores.

For the most part, it’s hard to deny that Granduciel has succeeded in pimping his wheels for bigger journeys.

Sometimes, these songs are set to a more traditional backdrop--most notably the finger clicks and atmospherics of Sitting In The Stairwell--but for the most part, Lilies is no sonic reverse from the experimentation of Blackened Cities.

Goin’ Platinum, meanwhile, places him in Auerbach’s Easy Eye Sound studio with his house band--comprising guitarist Duane Eddy (yes, that one) plus Memphis Boys Gene Chrisman and Bobby Woods--and the results elevate his work even higher.

Not quite the music one might expect from the California coast where Segall grew up ... in fact, wildly at odds with just about anything. [Jan. 2024, p.99]

The title track is suitably dreamy and orchestrated and Ghost Of You has a hint of 70s John Cale in its enjoyably opulent chord sequences. There's still room for a little Welsh. [Sep 2025, p.103]

The music is as gauzy as sugar-spun candy floss. .... The downside of this approach is Liquorice largely lacks the distinctive moments of past Hatchie albums. [Christmas 2025, p.133]

At 68 minutes long and 16 tracks, its length becomes an issue during a third quarter which drifts. But as an exercise in breaking with consistency, I Am Easy To Find shows The National remain open to new possibilities after all.

Cale remains the star of the show, however, still crafting richly textured songs that don’t always go where you might expect them to, and refusing to pander to expectations.

While the musical performances are expert, the real appeal of the record lies with Friedberger.

Seven albums in, Pond-life is exhibiting clear signs of accelerated own-terms evolution.

With no hint of hype (but a lot of alliteration), The Usual Suspects is perhaps chef Wobble’s most appealing musical smorgasbord to date. It’s rare for one album to evince comparisons to both Lee Perry and Lalo Schifrin in style, or to Lonnie Liston Smith, Eddie Van Halen and Keith Moon with its musicianship.

If they skip between genres with less restlessness than on their best albums, the more focused precision presents its own strand of guile, with repeat plays revealing hidden depths. [Nov 2024, p.99]

It is sad and striking in beautiful waves. [Dec 2024, p.106]

Anxious shows she had a genuinely effervescent talent, [May 2025, p.105]

A joyous release that's as eclectic as the vinyl selections in a first-rate junkshop, anchored by long serving ex-R.E.M. sideman McCaughey's exuberant yelp. [Aug 2025, p.105]

The Manticore Tapes is a fascinating insight into the early days of the band. [Aug 2025, p.96]

On early takes of I'm Not In Love (slathered in squelch) and Found A Job (crowded with delay effects) you hear how judicious restraint and the fastidious dispositions of all involved would make the final songs, like the words Byrne brings to them, seem somehow both precise and spontaneous at the same time. [Sep 2025, p.95]

A loving feat of minimalist yet atmospheric collaboration, executed with exquisitely controlled restraint. [Oct 2025, p.133]

It has been five years since their last studio album proper, and with The Wilderness, Explosions In The Sky have created something very special indeed.

Staples is in strong voice throughout, yet on All Over Again, the closing folk blues look back on a lfe lived without regrets, she sings even lower than usual, sounding her age--impossibly wise and dignified. A fitting end to a great record.

It succeeds by drawing in the listener and urging them to do some interpretative work. [Mar 2026, p.103]

Howard’s voice is at its best when doing that kind of Arethra/Irma Thomas-ish stuff, and where the band uses simple dynamics, rather than density, to showcase the song.

With seamless storytelling through its 34 songs, magical moments of intricate instrumental interplay abound, magnified by an orchestra and massed choirs, while a template for the staging of a musical production sees the principals realising a grandiose next-step in their creative development.

A joyous blend of dumb fun and sonic smarts with the talent that Stevens has been peddling for nearly 20 years to glue them together, this feels a fresh start in a career that didn’t exactly need one. Somehow, a wonderful surprise. Wow.

It all adds up to reaffirm that The Unthanks are among the most quietly accomplished groups around.

Just when you're thinking Saint Etienne can't possibly maintain such high standards after three decades, The Night begins to turn your head around. [Feb 2025, p.105]

All very highbrow and ambitious for sure, yet despite portentous advance warnings of material involving fallen angels, the Garden Of Eden and Dante-ish visions of Hell, songs such as the plaintive Morningstar and the Buddy Holly-aping rattle of Letting Me Out quickly prove Hart’s still more than capable of channelling his lofty ideals through good ol’ verse-chorus-verse.

The ball keeps rolling. A rare hushed ditty, That Was My Brain On elves, is surreal and witty. The other five have muddy, chunky basslines and spearing guitars. [May 2026, p.102]

This is an album which doesn't reveal its secrets all at once, and instead invites you to spend time with it. [Nov 2024, p.101]

Listening now, it’s easier to understand. Buffed to perfection by Scott Litt and John Keane, Out Of Time is a proudly pop album that demands new audiences. ... For hardcore fans, the extra material is a full but mixed bag.

The album isn’t radically different from the five other records Motörhead have made with Webb since Inferno, in 2004.

A soulful set of tunes that includes a lush, laid back version of Georgia On My Mind that oozes a languorous eroticism.

The musical equivalent of a super-caffeinated espresso laced with Jack Daniels.

The Big Decider spins and struts with the joie de vivre of old, statements of intent provided by crunchy opener Creeping On The Dancefloor and Pauline, another groove-infused witty ode to a difficult woman, cut from the same cloth as Valerie. [May 2024, p.105]

The music on II is undoubtedly a gorgeous trip, but it's a sound which many producers have caught up with in the last decade. [Aug 2024, p.104]

A sublime soundtrack for summer nights. [Sep 2025, p.104]

It's not that the music is especially innovative, but songs such as Darkness Always Wins and Like A Woman Can sound highly compelling, thanks in part to frontwoman Lzzy (sic) Hale's commanding presence. [Nov 2025, p.96]

Like Iommi jamming with Bonham, Melvins duo Buzz Osborne and Dale Crover lay down the uncompromising riff-rock they’ve been prolifically perfecting since the 80s. Mars Volta axeman Omar Rodriguez- Lopez is the most muted talent present, resigned as he is to bulldozing basslines, so you’ll find none of his trademark proggy noodling here, which is probably for the best. And Gender Bender? Her fierce vocal dexterity channels the spirits of Ozzy Osbourne, Robert Plant, KatieJane Garside, Donita Sparks and even Russell Mael.

By the spangled keyboards, spectral funk and squalling sax of closing pair Toots and Teeth, Van Dinther has successfully forged his own new personal universe, showing jazz’s original questing spirit still alive, kicking and able to make new sonic waves.

Charming, heart baring, polish-free and not buffed beyond recognition. Alive, basically. A pleasure.

Throughout, The Clientele’s mellifluous breeziness accommodates fresh sounds without signs of strain.

The songs aren’t always resolved and have an element of hit-or-miss jam around the edges, but they are thrilling at times.

The unpromising combinations separate rather than coalesce. The talented, pugilistic youngster’s best feels yet to come.

A Splash Of Colour will resonate most with those who frequented the Groovy Cellar on a Friday night. The rest might find that three discs is an overdose.

Westerman has crafted a collection of songs steeped in nostalgia and simplicity. [Jan 2026, p.103]

There’s much to pore over here, including two full live sets from 1984 and the experimental patchwork collection Gasoline In Your Eye. Get ready to have your earth shaken.

Death Hilarious rattles through dizzying space-thrash, slow-riffin' stoner rock and Motorhead gone cosmic glam, with extended passages that defy the tag of "post-metal" because they're far too FUN. [May 2025, p.105]

Rather than simply regurgitating their heroes, the classic songwriting at the heart of the tension ensures it's an instantly welcoming experience. [Feb 2026, p.101]

There's an abandoned sense of mischief and good times here that doesn't automatically come with overdosing on Rumours. [Oct 2025, p.133]

Songs that are just truly comforting to their core and that make Hallelujah Anyhow another richly rewarding listen.

The record doesn’t break any new ground, but it walks familiar paths with confidence.

Across the 28 tracks, never once does it seem Everett is playing for anyone but himself, avoiding potential cliché throughout.

An eccentric take on Please, Please, Please is maybe surplus to requirements, but the rest is lean and lithe.

These ruminations on love form what could be described as a grownup concept album, with the Norwegian singer using all her experience and expertise wisely and reassuringly. [Sep 2024, p.133]

Although recorded with different producers in Mexico and Nashville, you can't hear the joins on Bridges' warm embraces. [Dec 2024, p.106]

The result is a vibrant wall of sound veering between the fierce and hauntingly sensitive.

The flipside of all the editorial freedom is that rather too much of the album is made up of endless midtempo guitar chug, which can feel like a bit of a chore after a while.

At one end of the spectrum that means Snorri Helgason is sparsely faithful to the gentle Misty Roses, while The Phoenix Foundation imbue Don’t Make Promises with post-psych otherworldliness.

Considered and ambitious, Tincian fittingly sounds like it comes from no time at all.

Trouble & Love is perhaps her most thoughtprovoking set since 2005’s Mercy Now, full of literate musings and believable characters.

A surprisingly natural addition to the band’s discography--and a thoroughly enjoyable one.

Rewarding, yet keep it familiar at the same time.

Though pieced together on a shoestring with Aves playing most of the instruments, it’s a charmingly idiosyncratic, roots-flavoured record.

Comparisons to Cream and early Black Sabbath are not ill-founded, but perhaps a little misleading. The trio’s “rock” aesthetic is made satisfyingly supple by the deft, jazz-borne drumming of Andreas Werliin, and bassist Johan Berthling spins some quite doomy webs, but the overall impression is of something quite apart from these two sets of forebears.

Mind Hive is especially groundbreaking. In fact, several of its best tracks (the restless, motorik drive of Cactused and the jagged, staccato bursts of the menacing, 154-ish Be Like Them) quite openly flirt with familiarity. Yet, as always seems to be the case with this crew, these tunes are invested with enviable reserves of contemporary energy which ensure they’re served up fresh and minus the merest hint of parody.

This is not an overly confessional collection: if you’re looking for self-revelation, you may have to wait for a forthcoming autobiography, but nevertheless there’s much to enjoy.

This is breathless in its intensity, an hour-long triumph up there with anything they’ve ever done, tales of the world today united amid the brooding shadows of a Victorian musical hall stage. That’s life, that’s madness… and it truly is the Madness we know and love.

James sound like a band bursting with life here. [Apr 2024, p.105]

Meshell Ndegeocello contributes electric bass and vocals on the track Maxim. [Nov 2025, p.92]

Spira finds Arnalds' talent revivified, blooming to earthy, dreamy and transporting effect. [Christmas 2025, p.132]

Never superfluous, always essential. [Apr 2026, p.109]

With its cinematic strings and glacial synth arrangements, Rise is certainly rife with theatricality--but rather than play-acting at the role of singer, Gainsbourg’s patchwork embeds the answers to those questions, and many more, deep within.

Ray Davies’ dreams and reality combine to make Americana an absorbing listen. Just touching an hour in length, it is as curious and rewarding as anything he has ever done.

More of the same then, maybe, but if it sounds this rich, just keep ’em coming Charles. Dues paid.

It’s a witty, endlessly creative look at where we are, where music is right now and what’s next; it all makes for essential listening.

Hayman may fall short of fully embracing the Victorian utopian dreams of his source material, yet a communitarian spirit of which Morris would have approved pervades.

As long-time residents, the pair are understandably incensed and concerned over recent developments in the US, along with their city’s ongoing corporate makeover, translating their rage into a seething Xtrmntr for modern times that is undoubtedly their best, most relevant work to date yet.

The bleakness can be oppressive but as Wolfe sings of "wings on our lungs" on the hymnal Place In The Sun, her voice takes flight with commanding power. [Feb 2024, p.103]

Out In The Storm bares out the wound-baring pitch. The injuries remain, but its crunchy riffs, sharp melodies and forthright vocals comprise Crutchfield’s deepest, most direct emotional diagnoses yet.

As it stands, Reflektor is Arcade Fire’s most diverse and sonically interesting work to date.

Thankfully, despite all this period charm, Air’s music more than holds up today.

Aided and abetted by some magnificent backing by the Helios, using the requisite analog set up, the album has the verve and feel of a classic West African long-player, but with enough subtle updates to prevent a slide into reverent pastiche.

Further may not take Hawley anywhere new, but it succeeds in drawing you back into his world. Not a bad place to be.

Here is a warm, kind album that may sag a little on the second side but has songs up there with Beam’s best. Think Teenage Fanclub’s recent Here for a similar bittersweet reunion. Mellow doubt indeed.

Looking beyond the harsh aesthetic, Walker has created a score that is rich in texture and highly innovative.