The Way And Color is an admirable, solid effort, surely paving the way for better material on the not so distant, sunset dripping, horizon.

There was a lot riding on this album to be a worthy successor to Piñata, and Gibbs and Madlib ended up with something that unfortunately doesn’t come close to those heights, but something that’s still worth thoughtful evaluation and plenty of discussion.

Freddie is an easily digestible trap album, not revolutionary or underwhelming but average considering Gibbs’ catalogue of work.

The album is an engaging and enjoyable listen and deserves all the credit it will inevitably receive.

Passover may be an album of grieving, but it is not beholden to the process. While many albums of loss are as hard to hear as they are beautiful, Shields has opted for a somewhat more welcoming approach.

The Diary's strongest cuts come when Dilla is behind the board.

Donovan Blanc may lack a bit of originality, but when countered by a distinct lack of pretension like this it doesn't seem to matter.

Wanderer is a worthy listen, that keeps us chasing her, slowly, over the next ridgeline.

Nili Hadida may not attract legions of pop fans, but then, it hardly feels designed to. Hadida is clearly enjoying stretching out on her own at long last, and the album plays a bit like her testing her sea legs on a maiden voyage, finding her footing, and her independent voice, as she goes.

Yes, it's clear that this is a more matured, polished Mr. Scruff that often bristles with darkness, but it's a more mature Mr. Scruff at that sacrifices the puckish rogue charm we all fell in love with.

The variety of sounds and instrumentation on the record is something to be admired.

His intensity is consistent and his affinity for recognizing his fans favor is respectable. He doesn’t change things up much sonically, which is a welcomed critique.

As this year's laid-back, folk-tinged efforts go so far, Woods haven't quite packed the sort of emotional punch that, say, Beck did on Morning Phase, but they have provided further evidence that they're slowly emerging as masters of their mellow-pop craft.

You might not revisit this record often, but when you want to step back and step out Altid Sammen in its quiet contemplation will be the record to open up new avenues and expose what it was you were searching for.

With Elephants on Acid they often sacrifice, clearly by choice, catchiness for a more avant-garde complexity. There is a fantastic set of songs awaiting murkily on Elephants on Acid, and for Cypress Hill's intended audience here--the true fans--it's sure to be a joy unearthing them.

Black Moth are a young band who are improving fast and although they've got a lot of catching up to do with some of their contemporaries, the potential is there and Condemned To Hope is one of the better heavy British records of 2014.

The tracks here, whilst enjoyable and (for the most part) produced extremely well, amount to a record that lacks the impact of SBTRKT's debut.

Morgan Delt's Phase Zero navigates that thin line between rêverie and acid trip, drawing an accepted state of temporary and discreet insanity.

As pretty as much of the album is, it can lack the immediacy to really grab the listener and pull them into a different world.

If you're encountering The Mountain Goats for the first time, perhaps this isn't the ideal place to begin.

Are We There is one of the finest folk-ish albums of this decade, but this timely reissue illustrates that Van Etten’s remarkable talent has always been omnipresent. Eight years on, her incoming anxious queries and lovelorn passages are as pertinent as they’ve ever been.

While not as immediately apparent in its charm as say Cerulean Salt, it’s another fine addition to what is fast becoming a vital collection of music from one of the best songwriter’s around.

It is a (relatively speaking) stripped back effort that brings Florence grounded firmly to the earth and perhaps is her greatest achievement to date.

Whilst SORROW is clearly marked by genius, the scope and weight of this project is so substantial that the individual talent of a virtuoso like Stetson is somewhat buried, stepping back from the centre stage and once again filling the role of collaborator.

Southsiders is extremely competent, and has enough really great beats to more than make up for the general air of insouciance. It's good. It just ain't essential.

Ten tracks of beer-soaked bar-floor bliss, Television Man sweats through with an octane of badassery that's hard to come by these days. And while it's far from album of the year material, it probably is one of the best rock 'n roll recordings to bless the scene in a long time.

Those artists who standout from the rest of the pack do exactly this with the additional knack of killer songwriting, and Honeyblood fortunately have that going for them in an abundance.

Blast Off Through The Wicker is the equivalent of an efficient weekend overseas excursion; short, beautiful, and enjoyable, but it won’t leave you tired or wishing you had had longer.