A truly wonderful record that deserves attention, as does the work of Arthur Russell.

By starting from scratch and going in with aim to create something that is a direct reaction to the onslaught of modern music, Hemsworth has created a piece of music that lives in an environment of its own making.

Perhaps the reason for the feeling of emptiness at the well-meaning heart of No One is Lost is in its striking over-familiarity.

Michael is everything one would expect from Les Sins' highly anticipated debut and more.

Unravelling is an album that needs time and patience lent towards it. It's a slow-burner of a record, both in the tempo it sets and the amount of time it takes for it to reveal itself.

If you've got the patience, then this is a remarkably rewarding listen.

La Isla Bonita is harder, edgier and noisier than 2012's Breakup Song, but just as charming, off-kilter and curious.

Grouper tenderly and quietly beckons you nearer, allowing the sadness to seep into your bloodstream. Lyrics are distant and difficult to decipher, however it isn't hard to comprehend the emotional weight of each track.

Rarely is it as uplifting as his debut, but it's often as anthemic, and nurtures an ember of depth that may have been glossed over before.

It's just a shame that these gems are surrounded by material that's just not as strong, or consistent as we've come to expect.

Ultimately, Ought have created an EP that does not draw attention away from their debut album, but instead builds on it, driving their intensity forward and reaching further outwards for raw emotion and energy.

This is a scribble to go up on the fridge alongside other much-loved items, even if those items are photographs which remind you what real life looks like. Stick a magnet on it. It's done.

They sound as powerful as ever, and their penchant for weaving subtle folk melodies amongst their noise is still pretty special.

Ultimate Painting is a charming start point for a band who show enough charm to suggest they can turn out any number of superior follow-ups. On one or two tracks, they might one day prove essential.

You can hear [that the songs were written very quickly]; the atmosphere across the album is very constant. However, it makes them very similar by the same standard.

All that's left are tightly compacted songs that may not have a reflective gloss to them, but instead light their own way.

This is what it sounds like when an artist matures, discovers a confidence they perhaps never knew they had, and return, revitalised.

McNany's own sensitivity on Museum of Love can, at times, feel like fastidiousness; each track is so carefully structured that the album as a whole suffers from a slight lack of flow, as if the listener is simply moving from one exhibit to the next. However, that is a small complaint on what is overall a satisfying and deeply rewarding project.

It's decent and fairly enjoyable, but nothing astounds.

There's an abundance of feelings created in the listener from this album when played in full.

At just under 30 minutes long, the record is as brief as it is uncompromising.

Atomos is a very powerful work and one which could well bring modern classical music to the attention of people with only a passing interest in it, in much the same way as Philip Glass and Steve Reich have done.

An incredibly physical record (both tonally and lyrically) with a greater focus on percussion.

Marigolden is yet another triumph, not only for Partisan but for the frozen tundra of America's Midwest.


Although it becomes a bit too intricate (and therefore slightly boring) at times, the album is a fine example of the infinite possibilities created by the so-called post-indie/hipster-psych scene without taking itself too serious.

Kele has instead chosen a route that doesn't challenge the listener or, it seems, himself.

Weatherhouse houses its own experiences but could just be listened to as a sub-experience of Radiohead. It shares many of experimental shifts using beat and synths to explore mood, only without the hooks and utterly unique melodies that nobody but Radiohead can produce.

This is an album that will not send Shintaro Sakamoto into super stardom, but will further cement his place as an experimental and eternally intriguing cult artist.