Shackles Gift reveals a tougher, more concise group than before; though, on the likes of opener Rigid Man and I Want You To Know, they appear to have morphed into--to these ears at least--a less interesting proposition: a relatively straightforward rock band.

Constant throughout is the storytelling flair that sets them apart from peers such as The Smiths and The Cure; there’s an introverted literary stand-offishness to The Go-Betweens’ lyrics.... Meanwhile the four CDs’ worth of rarities and live cuts contain as many riches as the albums proper: a testimony to the strength of the material here. Roll on Volume 2.

His ever more exaggerated diction adds an unexpectedly acrimonious character to some lyrics so that while Modern Blues is far from disagreeable musically, the words will have long-time followers speculating where he’s at.

It’s a solid, sturdy listen, with flourishes of electronics that bring sparkle, but much less of the pop sheen that was evident on Here Come The Bombs.

Not only a remarkable return, but also a songwriting master-class that will hopefully see BC Camplight embark upon a second act worthy of his talents.

The laidback intimacy of the recording reaps especially rich rewards on the heartbreaking Sad Songs And Waltzes, further enhanced by Mickey Raphael’s harmonica. It’s the sibling bond that’s strongest, though: a whole history of great American music coursing through the Nelson blood.

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.

Regardless of the pretentious set-up, this is another fine record.

It’s still as gloriously messy, squelchy and disorientating as ever.

While Steve’s fingerprints continue to leave a few smudges, six albums in, Justin looks like he’s better equipped than ever to step out of the shadow--and he’s apparently done so by exorcising a few ghosts.

It’s a sumptuous package of an excellent album that’s made even more essential by the gorgeous packaging of the very limited triple-vinyl edition.

Blixa Bargeld and his consequential cohorts present a scrupulous, literate and multi-layered assemblage which subtly encompasses the enormity, the futility, the obsidian humour, the stark terror and the warnings from history (that, wouldn’t you know it, remain unheeded).

The 16th studio album by the former singer of punk band The Adverts sees a typically fierce set of lyrics set to a bunch of poppy tracks to excellent effect.

Blessed with a raw, punchy sound, however, Black Beauty is far superior, more eclectic and fully-realised [than Reel To Real].

Standards, therefore, is gloriously, pertinently verbose, slurping like a horse from the wellspring of inspiration.

The emotion is so directly delivered, one is jolted by the sensation that Ms Simmons is hiding in the corridor. A wonderful record.

Words To The Blind doesn’t really stand for anything. Nor are its interludes or passages particularly interesting or exciting. Perhaps that’s the most Dada thing about it.

A classic compilation of a well-kept-secret of a band.

Shrigley’s work is not for everyone, and Middleton has only a cult following; while Words And Music won’t change either of those facts, the prospect of someone stumbling across this record by mistake makes it more than a worthwhile endeavour.

This album is pleasant, but not of similar stature. It is, however, an alternative and illuminating vantage point on his music.

Doolittle 25 fleshes out the original album with a disc of B-sides and contemporaneous Peel Sessions, plus a disc of demos (both of which are also available as a double-LP on gravid 180g vinyl), and armfuls of the aforementioned demos receive their first official release herein.

The Velvet Underground features some of Reed’s strongest work; few will need reminders of the melancholy bliss of Candy Says and Pale Blue Eyes.... The two discs of different mixes of the record here (including the legendary mono “Closet mix” from the original pressing) are refreshing reminders of the quality of an album that’s often underrated in comparison to its predecessors.

Painful itself remains essential listening. The extra tracks add context and plenty of magical moments; fans will be beside themselves.

This is no modest return, either. It’s produced by Rick Rubin, rock’s very own St Jude, and features Richard Thompson, Charlie Musselwhite, Bonnie ‘Prince’ Billy and Tinariwen, so it all sounds rather lovely despite the variety of styles.

It’s disjointed--clumsy, even--with only glimmers of consistency, but the hardcore will appreciate that this is the way the band works: nothing comes easy and rewards are hard-won. Those listening out for singalongs, heartbreak and any solidity are better directed to the best of.

An astonishingly talented family, most of them have made records of note on their own over the last year or so, but this union is something very special indeed.

Storytone’s deluxe edition carries an extra disc of solo takes: mostly Young and ukulele. It’s more palatable, but perhaps doesn’t reveal any more depth to the material.

Though a snapshot of a still-embryonic Fugazi, First Demo remains a formidable statement of intent.