The original record’s improvisational nature is still here but hidden, its minimalist touches are scant.

The uncharacteristically tonguein- cheek, Bowie-esque Japan To Jupiter is arguably the record’s apex, but quality and contemporary relevance abound, ensuring Folly is a comeback that equates with anything but the absurdity suggested by its title.

Although troubled themes lurk in the lyrics, boogie-driven closer Daily Blues encapsulates the album’s appeal neatly: for pure retro-rock escapism, this Flight is just the ticket.

In the now vastly-populated electronic marketplace, this is an album well worth investigating as an example of passionate scientists adding the music’s past immortal strategies to the planet’s ever-buzzing soundtrack to take it proudly into the future, rather than contenting themselves with replicating hoary old blueprints.

Overall, the record harks back to past glories, but it's doubtful it would have reversed his fortunes quite so dramatically as the Rubin makeover. [Aug 2024, p.103]

At times, Katie Ball's high-pitched vocals bring a somewhat incongruous phantasmagorical element. But they bring the tunes, too. [Dec 2025, p.101]

Mostly, this is same ol’ same ol’ JSBX: maybe no bad thing, but it won’t grab you by the collar.

It’s a pleasure to report that he’s come up with something much more tangible than a mere phoned-in hash of former glories.

Byrne isn’t on fire here: while the songs do sometimes deal with biggish issues with elan, the music’s just too merry, too jovial. Of course, that contrast is deliberate, but – perhaps it’s the times we live in – it feels pat in context, even glib. [Oct 2025, p.132]

Sun Gong comes across like Laraaji’s own personal answer to the Reverend CL Franklin’s rhythmic yet unsettlingly intense sermons.

Melodically reminiscent of Portishead’s Mysterons in its early stages, The Gathering sees a rueful violin-led melody spill over into a distorted and sorrowful mass many times its original size. Some Were Saved, Some Drowned has melancholy violins hang in the air as a doom laden riff cuts despondent, bluesy grooves deep into the piece’s core.

It sounds like it must have already existed, but therein lies the appeal of a record that is tribute to perseverance and belief, and the power of truly, great timeless songs. Mark it down as the first great album of 2026. [Jan 2026, p.102]

It’s the kind of album that’s easy to grow very attached to: a personal, secret soundtrack likely to be loved by many.

A by-the-book cover of the arguably too familiar Rainy Night In Georgia aside, this is an engaging and enticing set of tunes breathing fresh life into a bygone form; they’ll melt your heart while making you want to dance.

The angular but ambling instrumental Fauster can arguably be glossed over and there’s nothing here with the cliff-hanger intensity of Mend’s best track Cathkin Braes, but with the slow-burning Spectres and the churning, dirge-like The Mute, De Rosa have nonetheless book-ended Weem with a pair of their most bewitching power plays to date.

It’ll be a shock to the system for Futureheads fanatics anticipating herky-jerky guitar pop, but with the distraught Monster Again, nakedly vulnerable Thunder Song and the graceful, elegiac titular song standing out; it makes for an intensely cathartic and wholly absorbing experience for listeners prepared to dump their preconceptions at the door.

It isn’t easy to love, that detached remoteness permeates throughout, but it is a well-crafted collection of songs.

Spirit Reflection entrances with its delicate, gossamer vocals drizzled over dreamy, summery soundscapes.

Just one minor grumble: more phin next time, please. That thing cuts through a crowd like a backstage pass.

Songs here frequently unsettle, like the hypnotic Where The Bough Has Broken or the sinister Blood Orange. At times, it's a little too abstract and difficult to connect to--perhaps because of how personal this feels to Woods. Nevertheless, you'll still enjoy losing yourself in this vast, enigmatic world. [Jan 2024, p.101]

Orzabel and Smith still superbly soundtrack our mad world. [Dec 2024, p.109]

The apple doesn't fall far, as they say, and a 62-year-old Femi is still raging against the system on Journey Through Life. [Apr 2025, p.102]

Another fautless collection from Nadler, fast becoming one of the most distinctive voices in American music. There’s comfort in melancholy, as someone once said.

There are times when Music Complete seems like the result of a newly passionate group’s desire to squeeze a decade-worth of ideas--and another quarter century of influences--onto one album. That said, it’s still their best work since the age of Republic.

Produced by Edwyn Collins, it’s full of immediately infectious tracks that burrow deep into your head before working their way down to your limbs.

Belle & Sebastian--now much more of a unit than ever before--have found their stride, turning in one of the most satisfying, complete and cinematic albums of their 19-year career.

This doesn’t disappoint. Undoing A Luciferian Towers opens proceedings and wastes no time in transporting the listener into their world.

Inimitable, occasionally impenetrable, but never less than intriguing.