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]