The quartet concentrated on developing more pleasurable lines, and on well-structured songs rather than open-ended jamming. [Dec 2013, p.59]

Free Your Mind, looks to the two summers of love--psychedelia in 1967 and rave in '89--for inspiration and is mixed by Tame Impala's guru Dave Fridmann, yet its tasteful blend of chugging acid and euphoric choruses means it resembles an elaborate Screamadelica pastiche. [Dec 2013, p.66]

Ambient ebb and flow aside, vocals and synth/guitar motifs show Outside as a pp record, while a darkly urgent cover of Bonnie "Prince" Billy's "Strange Form Of Life" provides unexpected topspin. [Nov 2013, p.67]

The girls have made a gorgeously restrained full-length debut that intimates both youthfulness in its most innocent state and startling self-awareness. [Nov 2013, p.74]

Yes, it’s fascinating at times to be a witness to the meticulous construction of great music, but the contents of this boxset feel a mite desperate, rather than generous, and the flabbiness of its 11-minute jams is entirely inappropriate for an album that famously doesn’t contain an ounce of fat.

At times it recalls the hyper-vivid, motorik jazz of Stereolab circa Cobra And Phases; elsewhere, it's closer to Tropicalia given a 21st-Century re-boot. But the very best songs here incorporate everything, unexpectedly changing shade. [Nov 2013, p.75]

A vivid, shapeshifting debut album. [Nov 2013, p.74]

The lumbering "Livingston Bramble" aside, the music is elegant and winding. [Nov 2013, p.74]

There's a rich atmosphere of Americana on the faith-questioning "Falsetto" and the hop-skipping hoedown "On My Conscience," while the lover's lament "Priscilla" and emotional navel-gazing of "Half Of Me" find him dallying on the outskirts of John Grant pop grandeur. [Sep 2013, p.86]

For the most part, it's an effective addition.... The only real snag here is Rose's voice, which sometimes sounds so detached as to be barely present. [Nov 2013, p.78]

Fanfare rummages through the past in a way that will provide aural comfort food for many Uncut readers and writers but Wilson has found a way of personalising and transforming these fragments into a very contemporary music. [Nov 2013, p.61]

If the relationship to the original often seems tenuous, there's nothing abstract here: each note wrings something potent and direct from its origin. [Nov 2013, p.76]

There are still missteps--the ungainly "Chain My Name" and "Spilling Lines"--but between these sit a brace of casually innovative slow jams. [Nov 2013, p.76]

It's a typical cyclical riff and chant but, unlike other Tuareg bands, driven by full drums. Elsewhere, the quieter "Achaka Achail Aynaian Daghchilan" comes complete with subtle blues flourishes. [Nov 2013, p.79]

It's a genius pop album by a genius pop singer-songwriter. [Nov 2013, p.70]

Wenu Wenu is at last the genuine article. That it also captures the chaos of his live show is no small achievement either. [Nov 2013, p.80]

There's no denying the monstrous likes of "AO" and "Fast Seconds" are well constructed, but they're little more than assemblages of over-familiar parts. [Nov 2013, p.78]

[The set] has ramshackle charm. [Nov 2013, p.89]

The official line on In Utero is that it's a raw uncomfortable document of a band in turmoil and a songwriter on the edge. That's partly true, but it's also cathartic, invigorating, full of terrific, scabrous pop songs, and a good laugh to boot. [Nov 2013, p.86]

Much of Mediation of Ecstatic Energy is content to sit, lost in a maze of Echoplex, navigating its own navel. [Nov 2013, p.81]

A slight tendency to clutter is in evidence, but when the band pare it back, it's magical. [Nov 2013, p.81]

Thile is in a different class to the aspirational dabbling of contemporary music's most famous interpreter of Dowland, Sting. [Nov 2013, p.79]

With each track developing at an imperceptible pace, this is subtle but irresistibly compelling. [Nov 2013, p.69]

A joy to listen to. [Nov 2013, p.69]

Dent May favours freewheeling, psych-funk pop that nods at The Beach Boys and The Carpenters, but adds notes of samba, mariachi and '50s lounge music. [Nov 2013, p.69]

It's a wonderful pop album and there's a genuinely delightful innocence here. [Nov 2013, p.69]

The prevalent mood is somewhat dour, and the loss of Steve Shelley blunts some of the dynamism in Disappears' dogged repetitions. [Nov 2013, p.69]

It's all subtly regal, abetted by banjo, fiddle and mandolin textures. [Nov 2013, p.71]

Less ambitious than the album that spawned it, but a worthy companion piece nonetheless. [Nov 2013, p.71]

The reggae-tinged "Fol-de-rol" is a definite low, but elsewhere this is a competent, if unsurprising, effort. [Nov 2013, p.71]

[Fuzz is] eight glorious tracks of heavy, frantic and, yes, extremely fuzzy, proto-metal. [Nov 2013, p.71]

Despite the defiant attitude and serious subject matter, their excitably chaotic squalls, leaves a trail of sonic pile-ups too often both predictable and over-familiar. [Nov 2013, p.72]

The Julie Ruin are best when playing it a little goofy. [Nov 2013, p.74]

A bit of editing might not have gone astray, but it's hard to begrudge McCombs space to roam when his horizon is so impressively broad. [Nov 2013, p.75]

Overlooking the rare lapse into anodyne mellowness, it would appear Evelyn's got his future-soul mojo back. [Nov 2013, p.75]

Dan Lopatin champions sounds that fall between futurological cool and nostalgic resurrection, and here takes them to a new level of melamine gloss. [Nov 2013, p.76]

There's the sense that primarily, they're out to please themselves, but that's of little issue when the result is a string of three-minute knee-tremblers played with excellent chops and plenty of gusto. [Nov 2013, p.76]

Fabricius presides over a judicious mix of Urban Outfitters indie, finger-picked folk and offbeat electro that demonstrate her range and leaves the listener drowning in honey. [Nov 2013, p.76]

One of his better efforts. [Nov 2013, p.75]

It's as powerful as it is invigorating. [Nov 2013, p.67]

While "Incense At Abu Ghraib" has a horror auteur's knack for intimidation, a shrill whistle barely masking the sound of feet on metal stairs. It's masterful, though it'll leave you feeling like a speck of gravel in self-destructing world. [Nov 2013, p.72]

There are some beautiful moments here.... Also some difficult ones. [Nov 2013, p.67]

It gets a bit ploddy at times, but their knack for a good tune, a sweet harmony and the odd fiery guitar break keeps it all on the right side of mellow. [Oct 2013, p.75]

Like much of the rest of this fine record, [final song, "It's Summertime Again"] sounds like a forgotten hit beamed in from some beatific version of the past. [Nov 2013, p.77]

[Working with four young producers] isn't necessarily an ideal recipe for coherence, but [Giles] Martin--the producer of the music for Love, Circue du Soleil's Beatles show, and for the Rock Band video game--keeps it under control.... with each song treated as an individual entity and allocated its own musical resources. [Nov 2013, p.64]

Last Night is ambitious, mature and noisy. [Nov 2013, p.78]

Over the long haul, it occasionally falls in the nebulous place twixt atmospheric and song, but "Paper Trails"--the Delta blues seen through an xx-like electronic sheen--is a thing of fine-wrought beauty. [Nov 2013, p.68]

An oddly uneven set. [Nov 2013, p.67]

One Breath is a boldly cinematic work that is filled with passion and drama. [Nov 2013, p.67]

Impressively, in a nod to Avery's crowd-pleasing and circuit-bending skills, this is a techno album that seldom sags. [Nov 2013, p.65]

As powerfully new wavey as 2009's Backspacer at the start but also a testament to the band's more oddball meandering elsewhere, the commitment of Eddie Vedder's delivery brings a veracity even to some of the more ponderous ballads that can be the band's mature years default position. [Nov 2013, p.76]

You may well own these already, but the value of this collection is as a portrait of the artist through time, and a compilation of the irresistible outpourings of a man who never really knew who he was. [Nov 2013, p.83]

While the overall sound is massive, it's become somewhat restricted in tone and texture, most tracks careering towards climaxes of cacophonous synth whines and heavy rock guitars, a narrower palette than on previous albums. [Nov 2013, p.66]

Hoodoo is spellbinding stuff, a new high mark in a delightful late-career renaissance. [Oct 2013, p.64]

A records that spurts gloriously in all directions. [Oct 2013, p.65]

Hook-heavy hummability abounds, but most interesting are the newer "My Song" and "Let Me Go"--darkly atmospheric chunks of contemporary R&B/Hip-pop. [Oct 2013, p.68]

Internal Sounds is a sparkling conflation of '69-vintage Byrds, early Burritos and psychedelic country helped along by the odd splash of boiling surf. [Oct 2013, p.74]

Aventine remains pleasingly measured and minimal. [Oct 2013, p.72]

The Glasgow guitarist's follow-up is more singular, placing Hubbert's spidery flamenco-influenced instrumentals alongside some less compelling vocal outings. [Oct 2013, p.70]

Inarticulate, perhaps, but indubitably exciting. [Oct 2013, p.72]

[Moby] draws on a long list of collaborators to bring character and depth to his distinct brand of ambient techno, with frequently haunting results. [Oct 2013, p.71]

This third album sees him turn to songwriting for the first time as he channels his inner Lou Reed for a freewheeling take on New York art-rock. [Oct 2013, p.83]

Scattergood's voice may be an acquired taste, but she works it skillfully. [Jul 2013, p.80]

Until The Colours Run casts a spell which lingers. [Oct 2013, p.71]

Take Me To The Land Of Hell is one of Yoko Ono's strongest efforts. [Oct 2013, p.72]

She's made a hugely satisfying album of slinky electronic soul. [Oct 2013, p.71]

A magnificent comeback. [Oct 2013, p.57]

His latest is no less a mixed bag. [Oct 2013, p.75]

Their first album in almost two decades, David Roback and Hope Sandoval are on stunning form. [Oct 2013, p.71]

Kings of Leon zeroed in on their gifts for visceral rock grooves and soaring hooks--lifting standout tracks on their sixth album to a Springsteen-like level of gritty grandeur. [Oct 2013, p.70]

The band's amiable punk-folk chunter lacks a little of its usual charm. [Oct 2013, p.74]

A genuine emotional affinity underpins the marriage between Lanegan's lupine growl and 12 melodramatic songs of masculine despair. [Oct 2013, p.70]

It's an impressively strong set of songs, diverse in both lyrical themes and musical styles, and delivered with a confident range of drama and empathy by a "heritage" act resolutely refusing to rest on his laurels. [Oct 2013, p.66]

While their pristine sound lacks grit, in lyrical terms the troubled "Lies" and "The Mother We Share" show the Chvrches are blessed with hidden depths. [Oct 2013, p.64]

Half of this curious but at times compelling collaboration set lyrics from old songs to new tracks--though not always to their benefit. [Oct 2013, p.62]

A downbeat and occasionally poetic work with some unexpected reference points. [Oct 2013, p.71]

Dream River [is] among Callahan's very best. [Oct 2013, p.63]

The pair unleash a succession of hallucinatory soundscapes that feel hermetically sealed yet confrontational, as if daring us to fire up a fat blunt and allow this sleek beast to burrow into our frontal lobes. [Oct 2013, p.71]

Much of the album mediates on Torrini's new status as a mother but does so through some intensely poetic lyrics. [Oct 2013, p.75]

Her songs don't so much drift as press steadfastly onwards into the unknown--all of them stick in your head despite little trace of a tune. [Oct 2013, p.63]

Some of their most startling material has always been found down the back of the sofa, among such relatively unconsidered trifles as "In The Back Of My Mind" and "Angel Come Home." [Oct 2013, p.82]

Summer Camp are no longer a memory of a pop band, but the real thing. [Oct 2013, p.75]

The result is both an ambitious concept album and a glorious booty-shaker. [Oct 2013, p.68]

A vision of some shadowy Arcadia, its minimal Timbaland beats and lurking Mezzanine-style bass presented with mud and moss under the nails. [Oct 2013, p.67]

A promising debut.... But across a full album the monotony that fuels their material threatens to snuff out any sparks. [Oct 2013, p.65]

Intense, relentless and spellbinding. [Oct 2013, p.65]

Knowingly nostalgic and highly polished, this rich debut contains retro-cool references but also chunky pop hooks. [Oct 2013, p.63]

Having phased out the shoegaze from their sound, Blondes at times struggle to address the dancefloor head-on. [Oct 2013, p.63]

Six albums in and The Icarus Line remain terrifying, riding a tsunami of malevolent noise, sweat and havoc while producing some of the most intense and exceptional rock music around. [Oct 2013, p.70]

The Joe Henry-produced LP is full of subtle beauty and rich imagery, but there's so much of it. [Oct 2013, p.72]

Happily her rugged individuality matches up to the grandstanding platform. [Oct 2013, p.71]

More polished than 2012's ragged debut, Acousmatic Sorcery. [Oct 2013, p.63]

Smilewound finds the woolly jumpered collective coasting through another set of impressionistic glitch-pop and clockwork exotica. [Sep 2013, p.92]

It's poppier than ever before, with big hooks played with funk and bossa nova fills, fat Balkan brass and imaginative lyrics full of bug-eyed images. [Oct 2013, p.71]

Much of this album resembles the kind of murky '80s proto-techno recently unearthed by Trevor Jackson for his Metal Dance comps, with Nik Colk Void's monotone vocals ceding centre stage to the restive machine rhythms that constantly threaten to rise up and over throw their human masters. [Oct 2013, p.67]

There aren't many groups whose experimental cojones nestle comfortably alongside arch-classicist songwriting, but Califone solved that thorny equation long ago. [Sep 2013, p.85]

The result is a provocative and sensual album. [Sep 2013, p.90]

It's more fireside snooze than woodland romp. [Oct 2013, p.68]