There’s a reason he's thought of as one of the pioneers of electronic music; he manages to create more than just simple sounds--instead, there’s an idea that the big picture is far bigger than you’d ever care to realise.

Kannberg-led songs on Pavement albums were always immediately identifiable not just for his voice, but also for their lack of lyrical obfuscation. His perspective remains direct and perhaps more openhearted than ever.

His further point of recognizing singing as his strength and songwriting as his weakness is the most self-aware and perceptive comment either Gallagher has ever made professionally, and Why Me? Why Not clearly benefits as a result.

Their first full-length doesn’t feature too many surprises, and a lot of the cuts have already been released in one way or another, but start-to-finish, it’s an honest conflagration of scuzz that will leave jaws agape, eyes moist and hearts full.

'We Make Pop Music’ adds another to their storied catalogue of press-aware music about music and similarly sounds like the band as they stand in a nutshell. Then there’s the second disc of B-sides, the original versions of the first two singles, more reined-in versions of songs from It’s A Bit Complicated left over from an aborted session with Pulp‘s Russell Senior, covers (the Beatles, the Cure, We Are Scientists) and assorted offcuts, none of which are essential but which add more layers to Argos’ wracked character.

It’s not that the album is particularly any shorter than any other album – clocking in at around 40 minutes--it’s that it’s so tightly-packed with such consistently good content and is so musically pithy, that you just can’t ever really get enough out of it.

It’s a bunch of great dance tracks that should preserve their live sound in its natural habitat.

It’s beautifully crafted, and you’ve really not heard anything like it before.

This isn’t synthpop à la Kavinsky, and there are no bangers here, or--if we're honest--much that will imprint itself upon you when you've played it through a few times.

The result is a collection of songs that can speak to and through anyone who hears them.

The magnifying glass is on everything with this release, and it results in something distinguished and quite frankly mammoth.

It’s the songs themselves that should guarantee the album’s global success. Throughout the mini-album are references to BTS’ past and reflections on their growth as artists and individuals.

An experienced musician as Lambert is working with top producers such as Tommy English (Kacey Musgraves, Carly Rae Jepsen), Andrew Wells (Halsey, OneRepublic), and more to create a record that is beyond a covers album: it is an experienced display of composition, and how to reframe music to new audiences.

Boarding House Reach's overall flow--conceptually and creatively--is at times unsure and brilliant at once. This is no album of the year contender, nor will it rank too highly on White's saggish discography. Instead, it's thirteen songs of creative madness.

It's their best since 1993’s Songs of Faith and Devotion.

25 25 slithers through the auditory canal, hypnotising and beguiling the listener, before finally ensnaring those who choose to listen.

The band is tighter, more focused, and have honed their sound ever more slightly, tossing in snippets of texture and becoming even leaner.

A warm-hearted lover of an album that is hard to pin down but acquiesces to exploration and will, in a fairly filthy way, leave the listener sated, satisfied and inspired.

The album’s cohesiveness and its lush sonic range are clearly among the benefits of improved production, and Gibson has made good use of his new toys. Nevertheless, it’s impossible to ignore the fact that few of the album’s highlights quite match up to the strange magic captured by All Hell’s finest moments.

Much of the album carries this sense of being a showpiece for one of its individual elements--more often than not, it is Ronald Lippok’s shuffling percussion which breathes life into Instrument.

It might not be a styling anyone was demanding for, but once it's in your focus, you won't find a band that do it better.

Disjointed it may seem, but the pervading sense of chaos and feel good factor tie each track on Blood // Sugar // Secs // Traffic together perfectly, coming to a frothy, tumultuous head on closing cut "Amazing Supermarkets". Arguably the record’s highlight, it’s almost seven minutes of anarchic garage pop, mirroring in miniature the album it concludes effortlessly.

Wasted Years is unlikely to appeal to a whole new legion of fans, but those already on-board should be happy with their order of ‘more of the same’.

Slow Club are grander than ever, shimmering like disco balls, toting an LP that’ll break them into mainstream darlinghood; by the sounds of this bolshy confidence and tune-garlanded melange, they’re not only ready, but expecting it.

It’s direct, angry, and often joyful – a reminder that making good music well is always worth doing.

The Shakes is a record with raw energy.

Miami Memory displays an increasing, albeit cautious, capacity to divert from a well-trodden trail; seeing Cameron’s confessional voice explored and defined to a degree previously unseen in his output.

An album that often gets consumed into a pleasant fog.