Interview Music is a record as dense and conflicted as the frontman’s gobbledygook would have us believe he is as a writer. Whereas before his depictions were flavorful and bolstered by solid REM-like rock songs from his surrounding team, here highlight pickings for intelligent insights are slim, and Idlewild as a whole sound lost and in the process of aging horribly.

[Maybe for] the first time, A Sleep And A Forgetting gets at the heart of an artist who, over years of project changes and name switches, has remained frustratingly opaque.

Despite being derivative, Esoteric Warfare is worthy of praise, because it keeps alive a sound practised by merely a handful of outfits, some of them sadly disbanded.

There are times where the record behaves so obtusely it could be trying to shut its own audience out (example: the conflicting rhythms in Bread directly averse to a “population of people who deal in cliché”), but finding the hidden entry points is half the fun. The other half is trying not to trip up on your way in.

While it doesn’t quite reach the songwriting highs and wrenching lows of 2006’s Nux Vomica (few things do), Total Depravity avoids the dead spots that have plagued the Veils’ last two records by ensuring that atmosphere of dread remains consistent.

The notable tracks certainly makes this far away from a failure and the record as a whole is yet another solid presentation of Frusciante's unique take on his own solo career.

Using Shallow and Waterworks as benchmarks, this doesn't even come close; it's glaringly obvious that the addition of a third member has wreaked havoc on the formula.

Unfortunately, it’s little more than a bland exercise in pop that the band needs in order to sell records and tour again.

Moral Panic is simultaneously the most depressing and fun rock record of 2020, and that’s got to count for something.

In all, Clash the Truth is a major step forward for Beach Fossils, and it’s certainly an album that I’m not going to forget about so easily, if ever at all.

Overall, Come Ahead turned out one of the most encompassing affairs in the group’s discography. The attention to detail paid off and there’s enough cohesiveness too. Nevertheless, Gillespie’s redundant voice and lyrics are often too angular, but that’s the hit and miss element all Primal Scream’s full lengths share.

This is music that plays well in every venue, from the late night hangouts of urban bohemia to the awkward houses of the indie disco.

Eat the Elephant is engaging, atmospheric rock done right with intelligent lyrics and ambitious themes.

A handful of jukebox-friendly hard rock tracks and a thoroughly replayable album is almost as good an outcome as could be expected from this group of aging rockers.

It's hard not to inflate the rating of a record with some truly incredible joints, yet it's difficult to ignore the two-thirds filler combined with Ghostface's least complicated rhymes in years.

Audio, Video, Disco has neither creativity nor moxie, except in the sense that Justice is damn determined to give homage to the worst excesses of macho rock posturing.

Monogamy falls somewhere near the bottom rung. The indie game has changed. Without the Cursive name behind him, Tim Kasher is, sadly, not much of a player.

Born Again is easily one of the best indie-rock/dream-pop debuts to come out in years. Siggelkow’s firm handle on her sound is genuinely remarkable – it seems like she’s been doing this for decades and that Born Again is the album that finally ties it all together.

While it's not without its obvious highlights, All Hope is Gone feels too much like a demo with professional production values to make me recommend it as an album.

Que Dios Te Maldiga Mi Corazon doesn’t expand on its original ideas, it gives you less – a familiar, now tenebrous and barren wasteland. The bottom line being; when your reimagined version makes an already lethargic album look like an action-packed thrill ride, you know you've got problems.