Perfect imperfection.

[Unsound] is as rough, ragged and wracked as they've ever been, the likes of 'Dust Devil' and '7's' pushing needles thoroughly into the red.

This, their fourth full-length in as many years, proves the San Franciscans are a dependable force.

These are songs that flinch as much as they fight, that veer wildly into strange territories but never overindulge and that, essentially, draw all of the best bits from Coxon's weird and wonderful arsenal into one inimitable package.

A quantum leap it ain't--and Glass could do with putting her fangs back in--but (III) has just enough up its sleeve to keep Crystal Castles on track.

'Never' walks a fine line between experimental and exasperating.

It’s a sensory experience throughout.

'Tiger Talk' allows YB to earn their stripes as purveyors of plush, 70s-inspired powerpop.

Balanced, measured and, when necessary, jump-out-of-the-scented-candle-filled-bath creepy.

Although it doesn't stray hugely from the meandering blueprint of last year's '936', 'Lucifer' throbs with warmth, occupying a dreamy hinterland beyond Big Youth and Beach House.

Most of the songs here start like slowburn opener ‘What We Done?’, with Stelmanis’ constantly tremulous voice front and centre surrounded by ever-increasing layers of synths, padded beats and distant percussion. If you can get past it, however, there’s much to enjoy.

Some way off a breakthrough they may be, but they're still a chilling thrill for those unafraid of the dark.

A peculiar unwillingness to climax is something that many Shearwater records have suffered with over the years, and Animal Joy is unfortunately no exception.

It's enough to hold the interest, although we'd prefer Alabama Shakes to capitalise on their more esoteric elements and cut out the cliches.

Samantha Crain’s debut seems inextricably tied to that spirit [of alt. country], with its simple melodic warmth trumping contemporary notions of waistcoat-wearing ‘authenticity’.

An explosion of Snaith's warm-yet-manic verve, this is euphoria from a new master of the dancefloor.

Grand and grizzling, 'Gossamer' begs for adoration, but too often leaves an uncomfortably bittersweet aftertaste.

Philippakis’s words are open and raw. As for their sound, it’s as vital and as fresh as ever.

It's muggy and consuming in the way that using 96 effects pedals at once will be, but there's a vital sweetness that shines through.

Algiers, then, is everything we know Calexico to be: lucid with grit and tempered with melody, easily the equal of their career's best work.

Girls Names make sadness moreish and hypnotic.

This sinister, skittering collection (recorded before the sad passing of singer Trish Keenan in 2011) is the perfect compliment to Peter Strickland's marvellous film.

Don't be fooled by the benign title of James Yorkston's latest album--the songs have some real bite to them, both lyrically and sonically.

This isn't a reinvention of Dinosaur Jr. so much as a sideways glance; a new angle to help us appreciate their wonder in a new light.

Featuring cameos from David Longstreth, Chairlift’s Caroline Polachek, Kindness and more Cupid Deluxe is a rich, rewarding listen.

Though the grappling guitars of 'Riot In My House' wouldn't seem out of place on an MC5 album, Blues Funeral doesn't always kick out the jams.

Spoek Mathambo's mixture of rapid rhymes and genre-melding combining thrillingly.

A refreshingly innovative take on the decade [the 80's], and though it occasionally lacks a little heart, 'Interstellar' at least pushes Rose's talents in an impressive and unexpected direction.