A prime opportunity to taste everything from Haines’ buffet--sweet and savoury alike.

From glam-tinged art-rock to spellbinding chamber-soul, this ever-elegant examination of the heart and the mind is like Bukowski rifling through priceless musical boxes and releasing a thousand hummingbirds. .... Magnificent heaven. [Mar 2024, p.103]

It’s a whole lot of matter for Mind, but it acts as a fascinating documentary, as does the extensive, detailed book. What are the takeaways? It’s like finding a hidden treasure in the middle of a catalogue that is well-known but only partially adored; Out The Blue, Aisumasen (I’m Sorry) and I Know (I Know) are deeply confessional and equal to anything Lennon has ever written. [Aug 2024, p.90]

The album presents a dynamic artistry, full of ideas and emotional power. [Jun 2025, p.105]

Whether this album will find the charismatic Syrian expanding his audience beyond a cult concern remains to be seen, but such well-crafted high-energy dance exotica as the title track and Yagbuni should ensure that Souleyman’s star continues to shine.

As ever, it’s all played with impeccably economical style, tight-as-a-drum country shuffles with occasional jazz excursions; the work of a bona fide legend who’s never sounded more alive.

Greg Dulli’s vocals grow only more aching with age as he transitions from cocky young buck to greying Don Juan. There are jagged riffs and funky organs aplenty; the latter a welcome call-back to last year’s reissue of 1996’s sumptuous Black Love. Yet there’s a fresh emphasis on lush, elegantly experimental arrangements with much snazzy brass and graceful orchestration on show.

Ever-evolving they may be, but Satomi’s oddball pop songs are another band staple; this time they deliver the cutesy, punky, and thoroughly entertaining Nurse Me.

Add curveballs such as From The Dead, a plangent alt. country anthem, and it all adds up to the logical follow-up to 1997’s Album Of The Year. It’s like they’ve never been away.

This is a magnificent album, bridging the generation gap and reminding the listener just how vital and pertinent folk music can be.

Drenched in all manner of trademark effects and sonic inspiration, this Chrome hasn’t lost its shine.

The performances are sterling and there’s a clear intention to deliver rounded albums, not just drifting techno selections.

It’s undeniably darker than its predecessor and it’s largely dominated by dense, guitar-heavy workouts such as the mournfully expansive Delicat (sic), the sombre, hymnal Good Word’s Gone and the acid-flecked freak-out of Crystal Sky.

Winningly, their wit is matched by a thrilling, fizzing set of noisy, melodic songs that ought to inspire utter devotion and soundtrack many, many summers of abandon and heartbreak.

The intention is to capture music and make it sound as if the listener is in the same room as the musicians and certainly, producers and label owners, David and Norman Chesky, achieve that effect with this wonderful album, which finds the quirky Ohio-born singer backed by a jazz quartet that includes guitarist Russell Malone and trumpeter Wallace Roney.

Like Gainsbourg’s music as a whole, there’s too much going on here to do justice to the collection’s many layers.

Stewart hasn’t deviated from his love of pop music history. He understands its nooks and crannies as well as its hooks and melodies and handles them with reverent care.

Rather than damaging their genre-shaping legacy (influencing the birth of thrash and the wider scene in general), they’ve embellished it with a series of albums that could have followed Russian Roulette (1986), with The Rise of Chaos possibly their strongest reunion-era release so far.

Spooky Action is all a bit like an ambitious sixth-form production--and I mean that in the absolute best way--the sheer excitement of experimentation with the requisite chutzpah to banish any gaucheness.

Among the burning forests and boiling oceans, it's reassuring to know that raw beauty can still be found within the groove of vinyl, of which this--the Newcastle band's fourth long-player--provides rich evidence. [Mar 2020, p.110]

The scattergun concept inevitably results in a broad range of styles and not all of them are entirely successful. ... Still, the above are minor quibbles, as the bulk of the album is a gorgeous concoction of disparate inspirations finding hitherto elusive homes. The guests get their works in progress nailed by an esteemed craftsman, while Rundgren himself, a man with a partial history of self-sufficiency bordering on the behaviour of a control freak, sounds reinvigorated by allowing others into his world.

There's a tight band of bluegrass/country players and the music takes off accordingly. erudite picking alongside intelligent lyrics with subtle rock sensibility. [Dec 2024, p.107]

A homespun but thoughtfully energetic package which recreates the intimacy of its creation. [Mar 2025, p.104]

Each of the 14 songs here is a gem in its own right, packed with witty wordplay and sophisticated hooks. [Sep 2025, p.105]

Reimagines songs from his catalogue alongside some new cuts and captures him on brilliant form. [Dec 2025, p.101]

The tunes are Tin Pan Alley, the lyrics a compassionate castigation of humanity. [Jan 2026, p.102]

On this album, Harvey is again sweeping up sonic history and weaving it into a pattern of her own making, but it’s more relaxed and more raucous, its reference points less, appropriately, English. It’s a deeply melodic record.

Gibson does occasionally fall into the trap of sounding a little mannered, and this can take away from the well-written songs and from lyrics informed by an interesting back-story.