It’s certainly a series of striking and original composites, if a slightly meta one.

Easy listening it isn’t, but Three Futures cuts into the tangled complexities of human connection with an uncannily unwavering precision.

Every Country’s Sun feels honed, and passages of ponderous string-picking now flow serenely into the bursts of noise (1,000 Foot Face, Old Poisons) that make them such an imposing force live.

An album that's found the singer engaged again, hungry to work and with a keen eye on quality control, given a creative kickstart by a younger talent whose reverence is tangible but never submissive. [Apr 2025, p.98]

The mid-tempo results and on-the-nose lyrics can wear thin over 15 tracks, but Haim's melodic ease provides fitful featherweight uplift. [Jul 2025, p.104]

Murky, dour and troubled, Frog In Boiling water is a beautiful warning, but a warning nonetheless. [Jun 2024, p.101]

Anderson seems content to allow the songs to unveil themselves like never before; it’s by far his most band-driven, expansive work.

Despite this widescreen approach, Resin Pockets never once loses focus--though maybe there’s an argument for some stronger rhythm, to give more drive--but perhaps that’s a casualty of such an ad hoc way of working.

Between the framing piano passages of Pills And People Gone and Distant Symphony, an edge of techno-paranoia permeates the lyrics, especially the title track and the strident False Economy, and there are fierce club beats to match their best, not least on Run Free. [Nov 2025, p.105]

It's not as immediately brilliant as its predecessor, but still possessing some fine moments. [May 2026, p.101]

Wilco could have settled into being a comfortable, unchallenging arena-filling rock band, instead they’re knocking out marvels like this every year, constantly defying expectations and embracing change.

The Long Ryders should be proud--they’ve made a fine album that’s a worthy follow-up to their 80s oeuvre.

Fans of Joni Mitchell and early PJ Harvey will relate to Fatal Optimist on a visceral level. [Christmas 2025, p.133]

Their 14th album rakes over the wreckage and emerges as a generous, deeply humane mission statement: it’s an album of profound melancholy, of course, but also one lit up with heroic, big-pop colour. Ultra-vivid indeed.

Best approach it as a mixed bag which will give up its secrets slowly, if at all, and doff the cap one more time to its creator’s skewed approach to this rock music thing.

Production from The War On Drugs' Adam Granduciel an layered, liquid backing from his bandmates makes the record soar and swoon, delivering the cracked grandeur these songs for the "overwhelmed and overtired" demand. [May 2025, p.105]

The album’s momentum admittedly falters on less essential tracks such as the dub-infused, 10-minute sprawl of In The Graveyard, but it’s soon regained on Do The Supernova and the defiant 21st Century Man.

Brewed in DIY charm and classic pop nous, Earl Grey works best when it pairs tight, Abba-esque melodies and singer-songwriter pop with the lo-fi spirit of C86.

So it’s an album that demands your attention.

There’s a gleefully brash use of whatever’s at hand that recalls the one-man-band approach to his solo debut, Yr Atal Genhedlaeth, but American Interior is also a far better exploration of Americana than Super Furry Animals’ Love Kraft turned out to be.

Seeger has rarely been in better voice, imbuing folk melodies with jazz phrasing on the tender tale of innocence lost, When Fairy Stories End, and the smoky You Don’t Know How Lucky You Are.

A few of its 15 songs could have been omitted--not least the seemingly half-finished closer Forever And Always--but there’s certainly more to enjoy than not.

This isn’t quite the monumental album it strives to be--a consistent whole being achieved by sacrificing full immersion in any of the styles touched upon--but why stop now when they’re heading down such a promising path?

It’s an album that feels reflective but forward-thinking, observing a time and space but interpreting it in a way that all can appreciate.

The track’s second half building gradually--if not as gradually as their less condensed recordings – to a more dramatic finale. In comparison, dronesome pair Overhear and Rise feel a little underwhelming.

With the likes of Hollow, all echoing goth riffs, the dance-around-your bedroom exuberance of Resolution, and the caustic Your Genius, it can’t help but win you over.

It is, like its predecessor, a beguiling union of east and west--an album that quickly establishes its own universe and welcomes you in, with its reference points of Indian classical music, jazz, kosmische and dub.

Inspired by acts as diverse as Crass, Fugazi and Fleetwood Mac, The Guillotine is gritty, greasy and macabre, while lyrically engaging and deliciously tuneful. A word of caution, though; these earworms are liable to turn.