Even in these bare-bones arrangements, the songs are fully formed, particularly the likes of Pleasant Street and Once I Was: as captivating as anything Buckley put to tape.

Though played out across a potentially draining 75 minutes, Going Going... throws a few pleasant curves as it’s presaged by four unexpectedly evocative, scene-setting instrumentals, including the atypically delicate Marblehead.

The only track that leaves you electronically cold is Robot Man, which sounds like OMD by numbers. Saying that, nice to also hear them lashing some decent beats beneath the engine of The Punishment Of Luxury.

The remixes mostly offer lush versions festooned with synths, offering a glimpse of how the album might have sounded had Stevens followed a different path in the studio.

Separate--one of a few songs (along with the slightly annoying sludge march of Beat, the frenetic whimsy of Inquiries and the juddering instrumental Once) that falls just short of those huge expectations. But when this record hits the mark, it’s very good indeed.

The musical departures are oddly interesting. .... Compellingly underpinned by Thompson's precision thunder, Blind Eye and Can't Be Found are easily the most power-packed cuts. If only he could have elevated the whole album. [Nov 2024, p.100]

It’s as capricious and confusing as it sounds, yet the overall result is one of surprising cohesion.

Largely, Right Thoughts is business as usual--a steady, reliable and often invigorating business, but one that constantly, frustratingly hints that it’s capable of more.

The result perhaps misses the conceptual cogency of earlier Tree peaks. But it doesn’t want for controlled reach. Over a tight 48 minutes, C/C weds a reinvigorated affirmation of band identity to expansive energies, all to confident effect: “The sum of all, of new and old,” as Wilson’s lyrics put it.

Each of these 10 songs is a piece in the Feltrinelli puzzle, resulting in an album whose ambition suitably matches its subject’s big ideas.

Serious times call for serious records, which Franz Ferdinand have delivered with their sixth studio album. Well, sort of. Fear in all forms is examined on The Human Fear, but there's still that lightness of touch that marks them out as a band it's fun to dance to. [Jan 2025, p.102]

Banditos light-heartedly plough a furrow of 60s garage-psych, soul, blues and country with a punkish good-time sense of savvy.

With minimal instrumental backing, the pair confidently locate the essence and atmosphere of the original album.

Adamski’s productions have moved with the times, while keeping references to the piano-rave era (though inviting us to Pump Up The Waltz might trigger less happy flashbacks). If there is a key weakness, however, it’s Adamski’s soft spot for a shaky cover.

An instrumental, Pecket’s Well, highlights the beauty and lyricism of his solo guitar, but the real worth here lies in lyrics that offer listeners clear descriptors of Tilston’s concerns, such as the warnings for mankind encompassed in Running Out Of Road.

Russell’s widow says her husband thought the album was his best-ever work; that will forever be open to debate, but what’s certain is that a truly great musician left this world on an undeniable high.

Their gentlest yet. [Feb 2025, p.104]

The faster, rhythmic tracks are less convincing, though they can excite on occasion, but it’s this mish-mash of successes that make the album jar, and not in the way HeCTA would have desired.

Willie’s battered old voice too often sounds strained and strangled on the higher notes. What should soar barely scrabbles to the right pitch.

Spring King might have plenty of bangers, but they should switch up their MO more often.

A well-drilled exercise in slick, sumptuous songwriting.

When it hits it really hits, as on the loved-up Target and the delicately hewn Myself At Last. But when it misses it really misses.

It’s very much a full-band sound, yet the detail in the arrangements proves to be vital.

Beautiful Thing’s blend of ambition and emotion shows that Taylor could genuinely make whatever he wants--sometimes that’s the trouble and sometimes that’s the difference. Our loss, our gain.

After starting with a deathly gripping take on Motherless Child, his supernatural countertenor beautifully holds its own over the luminescent backdrops throughout, showing how charisma, soul and delivery score any time over technique. Pure class.

On new album Daylight, Black’s voice is often less strident than it used to be, though she can still raise the roof in the chorus of songs like Pass The Power. She’s as fearsomely committed as ever, but there’s an agreeably lush sheen over the band’s blend of ska, reggae and pop.

It's introspection with a keen ear for accessible melodies that help sweeten the bitter pills with which he's self-medicating. [Aug 2024, p.105]

It’s an album of unlikely collaborations. Day One features the operatic talents of Dina Ipavic, while Are You Alive, sung by Lily Wolter of Penelope Isles, floats into moodier, more analog territory. Best of all are The New Abnormal (Golden Girls’ Kinetic turned inside out) and the anti-gammon state of the nation rant of Dirty Rats.