NEHRUVIANDOOM is not the album to catapult Bishop Nehru into the mainstream but it's an invaluable step in his hip-hop education.

The restraint and delicate nature of their performances compliment Stephanie Dose's voice and help showcase her unusual style of singing.

Ultimately, A flame my love, a frequency is an intimate voyage of a single human soul through nature, and the minimalistic synth compositions she has used to render this prove to be an ideal vessel.

Enjoyment of Mercy as a whole hinges on whether you consider the boyish, faltering vocal to be strong or cheesy.

The music here may float into the ear canal, but Emily King is anything but feather light. She crafts what can only be called humane pop, and it seeks to understand. Gentle music that, should you let your guard down, may just leave you stunned.

Beach Slang's over-the-top, music-as-cure-all formula is delivered with such heartfelt sincerity that even the most stubborn folks must feel the need to jump around.

A condensed but still very enjoyable facsimile of Snaith's multi-faceted, technical and tasteful dancefloor oriented abilities.

All in all, HiiDE presents a diverse enough collection so as to be difficult to describe in the brief, simple terms of this review. Nonetheless, it represents a cohesive, intriguing debut album that foreshadows a tantalizing, unpredictable future for BABii. We'd all be wise to stay tuned.

King’s Mouth has moments of pure joy and feels timeless in many ways, and for that Coyne and co. should be applauded.

Just about every song on Marble Skies is successful. The unfortunate outlier is ‘Surface to Air,’ which features Slow Club’s Rebecca Taylor on lead vocals. The second track on the album, it’s a full-length number that feels like an interlude that outstayed its welcome.

The quiet build on 'Where I Lay' gives way to a gorgeous explosion of pianos and drums with haunting harmonies that, more than anything, signals just how much Broderick has grown as a composer and vocalist in the space between albums.

Good Fruit is an album that wears its emotions on its sleeve, but never overplays them. Far from insistent, it’s perfectly pleased to offer just what you need, and nothing more. Take from it what you will.

It shows that she can create a cohesive album by playing out the songs she wrote. But while the poetry and the music are there and played correctly, there is that last little bit of magic missing.

Much of the record maintains a high tempo in line with the singles released so far, but interestingly it’s the one real downer that provides the album’s standout moment.

Islands is truly singular work, emotionally affecting, funky, infectious and philosophical.

One of the most sincere sonic statements of the year.

This Is Not The End doesn’t so much land on its feet as delicately drift into its aptly morose, pop punky pose, assured without a scent of try-hard, an almost jarring naturalism.

The result is that, after a succession of disappointing pastiches, the boys have gone back to the good old days, and reawakened a three-headed monster.

The sheer solidity of The Body's sound seems to erase all thoughts of humanity and in the end all we are left with are the machines and the monuments, forgotten relics that in time will be destroyed as well.

While this sound is by no means new or challenging, it is a lasting one, ensuring that Mondanile's work is always relevant (especially when the clouds disappear).

If each of these eleven songs didn't deviate from their affective formula until now, there's not much reason to change it up. I do wish I could hear more lyrics and emotional sentiment.

You will hear better records than The Scene Between this year; none will put a bigger smile on your face.

The back half of tracks plays out like a rehashing of the first half more than an expansion on them, and Ribbons suffers from it. ... Still, the inviting nature of this record is well worth the time.

The comforting warmth of cassette fuzz binds itself to the entire work, making the gamble an intimate experience akin to anything that Nils Frahm has laid his hands on. This has allowed nonkeen to find the perfect balance between experimental and familiar.

There is a wide-eyed optimism pulsing through the heart of it which, twinned with Jens’ lovelorn, quirky poetry, is a sincere, open-hearted invitation. The least it deserves is the same uncynical embrace from the listener.

FROOT is her strongest album to date.

When Piñata's 61 minutes is up it instantly feels like you've heard it 61 times. This isn't necessarily a bad thing, it's more of a realisation that you knew what was coming and you enjoyed it

The chamber ensemble expanded the possibilities for them immensely, but it’s unnecessarily timid at times. Overall, though, Rotations is a successful venture from a duo who have carved a niche but refuse to just whittle mindlessly.