Life Will See You Now won’t disappoint the devoted. Pop pleasures are myriad.

Amazingly, this all hangs together brilliantly to form a restless, thoughtful and constantly engaging collection that deserves to be heard by many.

Hutchings fashions a series of pastoral soundscapes dominated by breathy flutes. It's not all a case of sonic stasis and folky bucolic minimalism, though, as Body To Inhabit proves, lit up by rapper Elucid's verbal fireworks. [May 2024, p.105]

Beautiful. [May 2026, p.103]

Blue & Lonesome is as defiant a statement in its own way as any earlier landmark. Stones co-founder Ian Stewart should be beaming wherever he is, as his boys finally realise the potential he spotted at those first rehearsals 54 years ago.

Torres apparently took five years out of recording between his debut and this album, and it feels like he’s matured, honed himself in that time, producing a most considered beauty.

The songwriting and its deadpan delivery are still engaging but the overall feel is so understated as to be frustratingly bashful. [Feb 2025, p.103]

You can almost smell Power’s building confidence throughout. Melodies boast a previously little-seen directness, while somehow retaining their delicacy.

Reset takes shape as a tribute to the consolatory powers of music and companionship, brimming with convivial charm and inner-voyage invention.

Essentially cinematic in scope and deliciously varied, the main man is somewhat reminiscent of Robert Hunter in that he digs up nuggets from a wealth of sources.

You will hear her work ethic throughout, positively Spartan, and tinged with rueful truth. A courtly service for all to attend.

The lyrics are--as ever--a highlight.

This marvellous set captures every funky, florid facet of their initial golden run in the spirit in which it was created.

A cappella mixes of studio material have been a hallmark of every major Beach Boys box set, and those on Sail On Sailor deliver as expected. ... Further studio outtakes underscore the group’s range and versatility.

The music boasts a crunchy (but pleasantly sweet) production sheen that owes a debt to classic British power pop. [Oct 2024, p.103]

Singer Vanessa Briscoe-Hay adds an arch local flavour on Dormant Til Explosion, but it's the Beautiful fingerpicked atmospherics of Armchair View which bring new colours to add in, to last the course for the next two decades. [Nov 2024, p.100]

Doves have endured intact, hopeful, and with a document to perseverance that is fitting for one of indie-rock’s great survivors. [Feb 2025, p.100]

It’s a dense, lengthy work (at 71 minutes the longest studio album of her career). Only one song, the ecstatic, pulsating techno of Sue Me, is likely to work on the dancefloor. Yet the errant, raucous confluence of sounds and styles has a homogeneity that works to create a beguiling, and ultimately hugely rewarding whole.

Cosmic art country (Infinite Surprise, Pittsburgh) and skewed power pop (Save Me, Evicted) dominate, but most impressive are Sunlight Ends and A Bowl And A Pudding, moments of experimental beauty at the core of a constantly surprising album.

Yet for all the tales of sonic Celtic carnage, Dawson’s sixth solo full-length, and second for Domino offshoot Weird World, is his most accessible to date.

It's an often dense listen, but with enough light and shade to ease the passage of its makers social conscience lyrics. [Apr 2024, p.103]

It’s still as gloriously messy, squelchy and disorientating as ever.

The result is one marvellously gloomy overview of this aspect of Lanegan’s career.

Give or take a couple diversions (Bad Call, Legalize Living) into stomping 70s glam, the Swedes deliver the usual hi-jinks with the remorselessness of an overwound clockwork toy. [Sep 2025, p.103]

While the album’s name and vintage of some of the tracks suggests a clearing of the decks, Cutouts is too cohesive, energetic and imaginative to feel like a mere odds’n’sods collection. Our beautiful world may well be melting, but at least The Smile are providing a fitting soundtrack. [Nov 2024, p.99]

A spare but slippery showcase of spontaneous-seeming instinct. [Mar 2024, p.105]

QOTSA can still devastate and his lyrics still tread that delicious line between romance and nihilism, but ...Like Clockwork either runs too slickly, or the mechanism feels forced.

The songs, all from Nelson’s pen, are what really sells this terrific record, knocked into shit-kicking shape by a drum-tight band who effortless play with delicacy or venom, and all points in-between.