An interim record before their next assault, perhaps. [Oct 2010, p.87]

Cocteau Twins, MBV and Angelo Badalamenti are obvious touchstones for the narcotised, heat0haze beauty of Penny Sparkle, which might stupefy were it not for the stylishly gloomy "Love Or Prison" and the deliciously frost-bitten "Oslo." [Oct 2010, p.87]

There's an intriguing version of Michael Jackson's "Human Nature" and tunes by Monk and Ellington alongside originals that lurch from freaky modernism to stately classical. [Oct 2010, p.108]

The Charlatans make commendable attempts to expand their creative horizons. [Oct 2010, p.88]

Gonzalez's cooing voice tends to sing the same pentatonic scale over the same minor chords on every song, which does make things a little repetitive. [Oct 2010, p.98]

Roots For Ruin burns with their reignited love of Fugazi, Pixies and Pavement. [Oct 2010, p.98]

The stripped-down, Muscle Shoals-style arrangements give Mavis space to do her thing, and the song choices are spot-on. [Oct 2010, p.106]

With experiments in disco, dubstep and drum'n'bass all unmistakably Underworld, Barking is the sound of veterans re-energised. [Oct 2010, p.

Barnes' lyrics remain a stumbling block. [Oct 2001, p.98]

The albums three producers create a gloopy mix of mid-'80s soft rock and air-punching choruses which lack the urgency of the Killers, while the gambling metaphors and religious images quickly irritate. [Oct 2010, p.94]

The Vaselines were more of an idea than a reality, but this revival, with Kelly joined by founding member Frances McKee, Belle And Sebastian's Stevie Jackson and Bob Kildea, plus 1990s drummer Michael McGaughrin, shows they have finally perfected the art of being Just Dumb Enough. [Sep 2010, p.108]

Booth's increasingly Morrissey-esque voice has a richer and more expressive timbre these days, even if the band's loose, liquid melodies sometimes lack focus. [Oct 2010, p.97]

He reins in the Liberace-meets-Lenny Bruce schtick on his sixth album, a curiously anodyne effort helmed by Berlin electro buccaneer Boyz Noize. [Oct 2010, p.89]

This is their sixth album and inevitably some jazzy ostentation has crept in, but generally there's a warm, graceful fluidity to Skit I Allt's billowing jams that remains uniquely beguiling. [Oct 2010, p.94]

This third album is even better, his voice smoother, more assured, and the tunes equally as confident. [Nov 2010, p.92]

"Normal" offers the most accessible punk foot-tapper that races past but leaves you wanting more. [Nov 2010, p.97]

Listening to the ramalama of "Slow Drip" and "Hot Tubes" you can't help but cheer them on. [Nov 2010, p.102]

Lisbon instead makes defiant virtues of under-ambition and overindulgence. Short on hooks but long on atmosphere, the songs suit Hamilton Leithauser's Dylan drawl. [Nov 2010, p.110]

For anyone who fretted that Glory Hope Mountain might have been a beautiful fluke, No Ghost confirms The Acorn's credentials, building thrillingly on the band's ability to access a variety of moods and textures. [Jul 2010, p.121]

It is still familiar as an Interpol album, but it's certainly their most refined, elegant and frightening release. [Oct 2010, p.97]

Lewis' piano still sounds as urgent and uncontained as it did whrn rock'n'roll was invented on it, and his insouciant snarl remains thrillingly feral. [Nov 2010, p.93]

Old Punch Card is surprising and, at points, quite brilliant--it'll make your ears double-take. [Nov 2010, p.97]

Their slick, synth-heavy commuter pop is rendered faintly exotic only because you never imagine anyone wanting to make pop music as frigidly bombastic as this again. [Sep 2010, p.90]

Dream Attic has the brio that matches any of Thompson's past few studio albums. [Sep 2010, p.84]

The ubiquitous use of the hang, a sophisticated modern take on the old-fashioned steel pan, gives a distinctive sound to this east London quartet. It's a surprisingly versatile instrument from which Nick Mulvey and Duncan Bellamy coax melodic and rhythmic patterns to complement Jack Wylie's inventive sax riffing. [Nov 2009, p.99]

A couple of tracks suggest exits from the familiar labyrinth. [Oct 2010, p.88]

T Bone's unfussy production is key, allowing Bingham's rusted voice to take stage centre. [Oct 2010, p.89]

Red Velvet Car finds Heart holding back on the lacquer. [Oct 2010, p.94]

The results, while hardly ground-breaking, are moving and accomplished. [Sep 2010, p.102]

The group's fourth, recorded in Berlin, pulls a few new shapes but a lack of any truly transcendent moments suggests a group destined to remain middleweights. [Sep 2010, p.83]

The results shimmer like rivers at dusk. [Sep 2010, p.111]

"Lately" is a wonderfully uplifting finale to a finely conceived record, an eloquent testament to an unlikely partnership that's only now delivering its full potential. [Sep 2010, p.97]

It turns out that this consistently astonishing writer chronicles happiness as astutely as he evokes its opposite. [Sep 2010, p.92]

Sugar, by comparison [to "Wrecking Ball"], feels laboured. [Sep 2010, p.91]

It's hard to imagine anyone but the previously committed fan will be signing up here. [Sep 2010, p.99]

Like Arthur Russell, he marries such influences [of Steve Reich and Terry Riley] with an off-kilter pop sensibility. [Oct 2010, p.87]

The album is carpeted with generic riffage, shredding and mouldy memories of heavy rock's past. [Oct 2010, p.106]

There's a brooding undercurrent to their upbeat sound that echoes what darkwave scenesters like The xx are currently doing. [Nov 2010, p.90]

Fidelity's default setting of mid-tempo, mid-'80s rock isn't remotely revolutionary, but there's no mistaking the power and passion driving it. [Nov 2010, p.93]

The result can be a thrilling hybrid of Muse and Magazine, but also a bit of a dog's dinner. [Sep 2010, p.96]

There's shades of both Stevie Nicks and Neko Case in Lissie's voice, a resplendent instrument that's both husky and mellow, attuned equally to the epic and the intimate. But Really the sound and songs here are a testament to her unaffected individuality. [Aug 2010, p.86]

Alive As You Are, then recalls a lot from the past, and recent past, but beyond that is simply crammed with great tunes like "Split Minute" and 18th Street Shuffle," the benign spell of which is more than the sum if the material's 1960s parts. [Sep 2010, p.91]

That a curdled, unifying groove undulates throughout this perverse collection is testament to Dear's abundant skills. [Sep 2010, p.91]

There are moments where the strings and backing vocals lurch into sickly sweet. But at least half of this album successfully unites two of America's greatest songwriters. [Oct 2010, p.109]

He's rarely sounded so utterly engaged. [Oct 2010, p.99]

Pleasant enough, but The Magic Numbers do this stuff for warm-ups. [Sep 2010, p.87]

Opener "Satellite 15" might hint at something dark and abrasive, but they're soon back on track, rattling through robust, enjoyable nonsense like the multi-part epic "When The Wild Wind Blows." [Nov 2010, p.93]

The likes of "The West End" and "Thinking About You" are unobjectionable, but mostly have the effect of reminding that there are Steve Earle albums you could be playing. [Nov 2010, p.94]

Sky Larkin ultimately remain a little too Haley Mills. [Sep 2010, p.102]

With martial trumpets, cheap-sounding Farfisa organs and raspy baritone saxes, there are certainly nods toward Ethiopiques legends like Mulatu Astatke or the Wallas Band, tracks like "Rite Of The Ancients" and "Golden Dunes" add a rugged garage rock, and riff-based funk of "Black Venom" has a breakbeat that's just begging to be sampled by a bright hip hop producer. [Nov 2010, p.83]

Sometimes excessive technological trickery gets the better of them, but there are some icy anthems. [Sep 2010, p.101]

If Funeral was organic, and Neon Bible was force-fed, The Suburbs makes do with being merely delicious. (And a little wistful, wounded, and wise.) [Sep 2010, p.80]

Tin Can Trust is a masterful album from an undeniably great American band, at the peak of its considerable powerers. [Sep 2010, p.88]

Atmospheric post-grunge is the order of the day, but while the likes of "Census" is dynamically tight, the impression is of talented technicians, not great songwriters. [Sep 200, p.83]

Half of these tracks are superfluous, but the other half are mixtape gold. [Sep 2010, p.108]

A blast. [Sep 2010, p.92]

Captured live in the studio at LA's Sunset Sound, they've never sounded better in their 20-year career, their Southern roots more proudly on parade than ever. [Oct 22010, p.87]

What prevents this all from becoming a mish-mash of textures is Hoop's single-minded passion, which lends a self-assured cohesion to her diversity.

Dolorous, soulful, a voice that speaks of total commitment--Best Coast are The Crystals of the blogosphere. [Sep 2010, p.90]

Fair play to Jones, He's a trier. [Sep 2010, p.96]

It's audacious stuff, but emotionally unengaging, with the lyrics being the weakest link and those songs remaining ultimately elusive. [Sep 2010, p.99]

It's probably fair to say that Super Furry Animals would not have had such excellent run were their creative impulses not balanced perfectly between poignant songcraft and archaic weirdness. On The Terror of Cosmic Loneliness, however, we find Gruff Rhys indulging rather heavily in the latter. [Sep 2010, p.101]

The Runaway is FM pop at its most heartfelt. [Jul 2010, p.112]

A sparse, occasionally foreboding mood weighs on these 13 cues, appropriate to Richter's increasingly prolific contributions ti European arthouse soundtracks. [Aug 2010, p.93]

Yes, it is formative, but it is never amaturish, and where Grizzly Bear's fully symphonic songs can, at their worst, feel somewhat glutinous, the tracks of Archive 2003-2006 combine a lean feel and try-anything ambition that's well worthy of investigation. [Aug 2010, p.90]

Ford's transporting voice is let down by tunes that are anything but. [Aug 2010, p.92]

The best song is Terrence Trwnt D'Arby's Sign Your Name." Slightly damning, that. [Sep 2010, p.91]

Dark Night Of The Soul will probably be remembered more for the stunt with the blank CD-Rs than for the music intended to be burnt onto them.

Where MIA escapes the club and returns to the wider world, there's an overwhelming sense of diminishing returns. [Aug 2010, p.89]

A bold leap forwards. [Apr 2008, p.98]

This follow-up strives to be less ethereal, and with the somewhat mannered twin vocals of Alejandra and Claudia Deheza more to the fore, it brings to mind Madonna's "Ray Of Light." [Aug 2010, p.94]

Much of Intriguer leaves one yearning for the unbound pop of "Now We're Getting Somewhere" or the straightforwardly confident balladry of "Better Be Home Soon." [Jul 2010, p.104]

A perfectly formed masterclass in early hours reflection. [Aug 2020, p.82]

These boys have genuine pedigree--guitarist Jamie's grandpa was Ewan MacColl--and the confident acoustic textures and fingerpicking styles on display here show a real affection for folk traditions. [Aug 2010, p.77]

Their formula--downtuned guitar, chunky rhythms, serial killer vocals--is proven, but ugly enough that it'll only resonate with fans. [Sep 2010, p.96]

A beautiful album, and one that conveys such stillness that time itself seems to hang suspended. [Sep 2010, p.104]

These veteran North Carolinians invariably put out albums of spirit, vim and polished Americana, with songs that boast powerful melodies and gorgeous harmonies. [Oct 2010, p.89]

The Coral don't put a foot wrong on this album, and therein lies its one flaw: by polishing their technique and perfecting their craft, they've become slightly less interesting. [Aug 2010, p.81]

This is one record on which his ultimate masterplan to weld R&B sass to thumping club beats comes good. [Aug 2010, p.84]

Despite her vaguely regal poise, and a songwriting crew including Jake Shears, Calvin Harris and Tim-from-Keane, Aphrodite is dismayingly anonymous pop-trance. [Aug 2010, p.84]

Big Boi's absurd--and absurdly dextrous--verbiage knits it all together handsomely. [Sep 2010, p.85]

There are flashes of brilliance here, but you do long for a wink or a flicker of wit. [Feb 2010, p.88]

The listener who experiences this album as physically as it is delivered will be rewarded with calories burned, an endorphin rush to die for, and heavy sweating indeed. [Aug 2010, p.94]

Escovedo is as reflective as he is melodic. [Juul 2010, p.116]

Their full debut is more "pop," if you stretch the definition to lovely multi-vocal interplay, grooves that stay convoluted but move their asses, and songs with hooks and momentum. [Nov 2010, p.93]

Cutting edge, it's not, as if that was ever the point, but the title of the collection seems less like a wry confession, more like wishful thinking. [Jun 2010, p.88]

Further requires an injection of personality that low-key collaborators Stephanie Dosen and Francis Ten just can't provide. [Jul 2010, p103]

Stack with drivetime anthems such as "Big Giirl Little Girl" and "Bring Night". Less overbearing is the feelgood disco of "The Fight" and "Clap Your Hands," which may finally make Sia a household name. [Jul 2010, p.120]

Boys Outside is truly lovely, Mason's finest solo record, but it's safe to say an album of sentimental ballads may not satisfy those who still hanker after the maverick, impulsive spirit of The Beta Band. [May 2010, p.95]

T Bone Burnett combines his vast understanding of American roots music with Randolph's vital grounding in gospel on the sacred steel virtuoso's third studio album. [Jul 2010, p.117]

Fairly generalised misogyny pervades the album, though it would be churlish not to not that tracks like "White Trash Party" or "On Fire" both display flashes of Eminem's wit. [Sep 2010, p.92]

The overall effect is all a bit "earnest teen drama"--"Dead Hearts" is a surely shoo-in for the soundtrack of the next Twilight movie--but the hit-rate is impressively high. [Sep 2010, p.104]

There are still big choruses here. But they now layer things deftly. [Jun 2010, p.86]

American Slang delivers spectacularly on all expected fronts. Everything that was great about The '59 Sound is here, but the sound is even bigger, epic without getting blustery.

Stomping Eurodisco almost-anthems rub shoulders with crying-on-the-dancefloor confessionals, although the 31-year-old diva's plastic-punkette teen-rebel pose grates at times. [Aug 2010, p.93]

Unfortunately, and rather ironically, Mojo is ultimately undone by the very virtuosity of its creators: the band stumbles repeatedly into that musican's trap of making music that sounds intended principally to impress other musicans. [July 2010, p.102]

This is a conventional effort, featuring four-to-the-floor rock and likeable disco-indie. [Aug 2010, p.102]

Having branched out by working with everyone from Patti Smith to Mark Linkous, one of the UK's most gifted all-rounders returns rejuvenated with a fifth LP as positive and confident as 2006's "The Beautiful Lie" was moodily introspective. [Jul 2010, p.108]