Electric Balloon may be a gamble in more ways than one for the NYC nostalgic collective, but it's one that reaps far more than it sows.

He doesn’t need to hop on the emo rap bandwagon and a more stoic presence is always welcome, but this feels like the first YG album that’s coasting on reputation rather than inspiration.

So Sad So Sexy is by no means a bad record, but while the Li of previous records was refreshing and stark showing us her vulnerability, the slickly produced nature of this means that’s often lost and in its place is cliché as Li tries to hang onto the weighty romance of youth.

Turbo Fruits feel weightless, airless. The smooth production only makes the disappointing lack of clarity all the more unfortunate. I don't know who or what this album is for.

The production makes everything sound suitably epic and heart-strained, but tends to overwhelm its strongest suit--Gracie’s voice.

File under: Works better if you think of it as a remix album.

All these tracks, whilst lovely in themselves, are made ten times better when tethered together.

An uplifting and varied listening experience, if only some of the other tracks didn't have a habit of passing you by.

The result is a thrilling trip into a time and a place where nothing is really quite as it seems and the glamorous mask is slipping away.

Although Green Lanes is a total bore, it is cool how they bear this mask on a handful of different songs. They've made that style of storytelling their own.

There's plenty to like about Strangers to Ourselves; it's just that it genuinely baffles that an LP as sprawling as this can have so many different ideas, and so few new ones.

It makes for an exhausting and engrossing listen, and ultimately can’t be anything but a life-affirming statement.

PINS architect and frontwoman Faith Holgate has always stressed the band's desire to maintain a disparate sonic palette and it's an MO that can be felt throughout the first half of the album.

At times, you catch a glimpse of a singer on the verge of something great, who is only able to suggest it due to limited time, space, or an aesthetic misalignment.

Sundays may not be a collection that will live long in the memory, but when it rises out of its spiritual funk there’s a glimpse of something sparkling in amongst the fuzz and breathy introspection. It’s certainly not a dog of an album. But perhaps it’s not as cute, or as diverting, as a Tanuki.

Lookout Low provides 10 outstanding tracks, each one making clearly apparent the effort put into creating this album was not in vain. This album is certainly going to be tough to beat.

It’s more of the same, but when it’s this groovy, this killer, this consistently beguiling, that’s absolutely no bad thing.

Written during tumultuous times, Ti Amo is the soundtrack to a future as hopefully bright as the record itself.

Ogilala lives and dies by the strength of its songwriting, and while there’s nothing here that even sniffs at the coattails of Corgan’s best work, it is probably the most consistent and least offensively pretentious album he’s put out in, well, nineteen years.

On Hermits on Holiday they have knocked out nine fascinating tracks with effortless skill.

WATTBA still measures slightly disappointing in terms of what we've seen and heard from each artist individually, even this year. What A Time To Be Alive, even as a concept centers itself around the idea of 'now,' instead of striving for the notion of 'classic.' So I'll enjoy it for the time being.

This is the album that will put Lily & Madeleine in the ears and minds of music lovers everywhere.

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.

Felt is a surprising addition to their canon of work, which 2016’s Hold/Still deftly hinted they were capable of. While it may not be what long time Suuns fans are after, it’s sure to gain them some new listeners, who shall no longer feel alienated by their intense grooves.

Mostly unlistenable. ... What has previously been a steady but inoffensive deterioration in Lennox’s music has now slid to (what one can only hope is) the bottom of the trough. No track here could be accused of attempting to engage with either the audience or work with recent exciting stylistic developments in alternative music.

Painting Of a Panic Attack, while not their best release musically, may well be their most emotionally mature.

It works well enough as a snapshot of where Everett finds himself as he approaches middle age, but the overwrought agonisation on the past and infuriatingly samey instrumental choices make it a difficult record to love.

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.