The combination of vaulting pop glory and damaged, fractured insecurity has seldom been done better since the early days of Sinead O'Connor. [Apr 2009, p.87]

Manners is impressively slick and sparky but probably just a little too toothpaste fresh. [Jun 2009, p.93]

Toris 10th refuses to gel into anything illuminating. [Jun 2009, p.83]

These are finely detailed hymnals with a deceptively light touch, led out by Beam’s warm-blanket voice and brittle guitar.

There is the odd suggestion here of a campfire Mercury Rev, but nothing to spook former fans. [Jun 2009, p.92]

It’s a wonderful surprise that Further Complications turns out to be such a reinvigorated piece of work. Much of this freshness must be down to the working methods of producer Steve Albini.

There's a couple tunes that rise above the general lo-fi languor. But you get the feeling they could carry on like this, lost in unchanging adolescent reverie, forever. [Jun 2009, p.83]

Herren calls Savath And Savalas his vision of "Catalan acid folk"--and that should be all the encouragement required for fans of Four Tet, Tropicalia and early Animal Collective to dive right in. [Jul 2009, p.97]

When it works, it doses oso brillantly--but the preponderance of bog standard indie rock elsewhere is sadly less engaging. [May 2009, p.89]

'Cave Mouth' rocks with something of Fugazi's technical heft, while 'Perfect Fit' matches Penner's quavering vocals to dancing Klezmer piano and swells of cymbal. [Aug 2009, p.88]

The cherished first couple of French electro burn brighter than at any point in their recent careers. [Jun 2009, p.109]

Apostle Of Hustle have now all but abandoned the Cuban mores of earlier albums in favour of a lean, bass-driven powerpop. [Sep 2009, p.79]

His tunes have taken a tougher, more urban tone, with stand-outs 'The Turtle' and 'Basic Mountain' building to hard edged concrete peaks, drenched in acid Rephlex bleeps. [Jun 2009, p.85]

Instead of idling into wry balladry of the later works of their obvious idols The Replacements, which would have suited Green Day well, they've affected the airs of Serious Artists. [Jul 2009, p.88]

Earle also seems acutely aware that it’s impossible to forage deeper under the skin of these songs than Van Zandt did himself. But he’s able to summon the same air of desolation and disquiet by other means.

There's nothing here as good as 'Nosebleed,' the standout from 2007's "Our Earthly Pleasures"--but there are still some good points here. [Jun 2009, p.92]

The second album of their third coming aims for the spontaneity of the early recordings, pushing those buried melodies to the surface. [Jul 2009, p.93]

Songs like 'Turkey Sandwich' are nothing new, exactly, but win out on guts. [Jul 2009, p.91]

Despite being her most superficially conventional work to date it may be her most slow-burning, with less of the bricolage charm that distinguished the earlier work. [May 2009, p.89]

The Spinning Top, a really very enjoyable record, displays some of the finest aspects of the guitarist’s talents, but chief among them, those that pertain to Coxon the folkie, and acoustic guitar stylist.

A stunningly audacious second album, inspired equally by prime Prince and film soundtracks, and reminiscent of Jane Siberry's prog-pop ambition circa "The Walking." [Jun 2009, p.103]

High art, low humour and deluxe filth: a hugely seductive combination. [Jun 2009, p.95]

With Spoils, Alasdair Roberts has delivered his finest work to date. [May 2009, p.95]

The resulting LP is a shambling, intermittently engaging sprawl, the songs jammed with verbiage, the lead vocals spread among the principals, most of whom make Oberst's frayed, wobbly singing seem Bono-esque by comparison. The LP's saving grace is the dexterous playing of the ensemble. [Jun 2009, p.95]

On the fifth album this East Coast trio make it patently clear this is not the same band whose 2005 debut placed them in the rustic shadow of former Young God Records labelmate Devendra Banhart. [Jun 2009, p.83]

Against considerable odds--'Cause I Sez So is a bit of a hoot. [Jun 2009, p.95]

There's still a stertility to their sound on this third album, but laced with sax, treated guitars and memorable choruses, it ranks as their best. [Jun 2009, p.109]

The quintet's transformation from schlocky garage urchins to ambassadors of thrilling new-wave can largely be attributed to Portishead's Geoff Barrow, who, alongside Chris Cunningham, produced "Primary Colours," uncovering a formidable band beneath the haircuts. [Jun 2009, p.86]

The suspicion remains, though that heavy cosmic rock is probably the best vehicle for his apocalyptic romances. [Jun 2009, p.99]

Theirs is a sophisticated, finely nuanced sound, lynchpin Aaron Turner's vocals notwithstanding. [Jun 2009, p.88]

Grey Britain builds upon its predecessor without diluting any of its rabid energy and grinding, oppressive negativity. [Jun 2009, p.86]

This collects all that, plus demos and live tracks, into a demonstration of how a fabulously obscure Glasgow indie group became one of the most influential of their time. [Jun 2009, p.105]

He's lost his way a little bit here. [Jun 2009, p.109]

This follow-up finds them flitting dynamically from royal Trux-ish fuzz blues to incantatory pieces like 'Shells,' that cross "Experimental Jet Set"-era Youth with Nico. [Jun 2009, p.92]

A Ways Away is a beautifully low-key set that frames her mellifluous voice and folky asongs with guitar drones and a slow-motion, dream-like feel. [Aug 2009, p.98]

Singer Orlando Weeks' new themes of intimacy and dependence, add emotional scope to a band blossoming from their spindly beginnings into a meaty prospect capable of doing goth XTC, jolly Joy Divisiion, and sword-dancing Strokes. [Jun 2009, p.92]

Classic pop songwriting with a twist is the order of the day, with watertight barbershop harmonies spooned onto layers of intricately arranged organ, while lyrics are unabashedly lovestruck. [Jun 2009, p.93]

There's a winning way with '70s soft-rock chord changes, but his staggering lyrical banalities makes most of this virtually unlistenable. [May 2009, p.89]

It's rich, beguiling stuff. [Mar 2009, p.78]

The album’s a gas, a riot, a hoot.

Now 29 years on, The Devil You Know can't quite muster that kind of muscle [heard in Black Sabbath's "Heaven And Hell"]. [Jul 2009, p.88]

Melody Gardot actually makes a better album than Shakin' Stevens and Peyroux with My One And Only Thrill. [Apr 2009, p.82]

They build on the West Coast blueprint for strung-out, psychotropic darkness, tracking back to The Crystals via Mary Chain and leaning heavily on the reverb and delay. However, it's hedonism, not retro homage that floats the Crocodiles' boat. [Jul 2009, p.84]

It's an exhilarating racket, to say the least. [Sep 2009, p.88]

The Enemy's trademark enormity--not to mention their rampant tunefulness--lifts this out of the ladrock morass. [Jul 2009, p.86]

'Half Mast' and the 'Without You' are exquisite pangs of millionaire's melancholy, even if there aren't enough of them to sustain a whole album. [Mar 2009, p.85]

'The Way It Used To Be' is the best thing here, defiantly struggling against easy nostalgia, but nevertheless suggesting that the PSB melancholy vision of perfect pop is now, commercially, a period piece.

The charm here is in hearing a veteran band who still really enjoy the process of getting in a studio and playing music together. And it’s great, still.

Sounds Of The Universe is Depeche's most tune-packed and sonically adventurous album for over a decade. [May 2009, p.82]

Brakes, and this is not a criticism, are at their best when they do the opposite, pretending to be a nerdy indie-rock group while actually recording songs that are dumb as rocks. [May 2009, p.79]

One trick ponies, yes, but it's a good trick. [Jun 2009, p.83]

Potato Hole proves as extraordinary, delirious and laugh-out-loud weird as anyone might dare hope.

While Roth's delivery is smart, the subject matter can feel like the work of someone playing dumb. [Jul 2009, p.91]

Nothing is a strong as 'Hey Lloyd...' and Traceyanne Campbell's lachrymose croon is struggling to find new melodies, but on tracks like 'French Navy' and 'Honey In The Sun,' CO remain heartbreakingly lucid. [May 2009, p.80]

There is sleaze here and funeral swing, and sass to spare. [Jun 2009, p.105]

The BFB have constructed thier new LP around the theme of "being nice to people," although their lyrics drip with irony and thier musical tone is gruff. [May 2009, p.79]

A little may go a long way with Telepathe, but there's enough variety here to reward repeated listening.

Eagle is as good as anything he's ever done.

For all the dazzling dynamics, much of it recalling the '90s from shoegaze to Sonic Youth, the writing leaves little lasting impression, and Brian Aubert's affected vocals drag things down. [Jul 2009, p.97]

'Black Suit' has a glimpse of where we might be had the Pixies never splintered. Elsewhere, though, the lyrics lack the ingenuity of Black's best, and Clarke's synth work feels like an awkward fit. [Mar 2009, p.86]

This is much more than the sum of its parts, and a richly rewarding listen. [May 2009, p.95]

Neither MacLean nor vocal foil Nancy Whang has a strong enough voice for pop. Instead it's the surging 10-minute disco epics 'Tonight' and 'Happy House; that impress. [May 2009, p.89]

The lyrics are still all Rennie's, of course, teeming with mysterious metaphors and fantastical flights of fancy. [May 2009, p.90]

The result is a warm, reto-feeling rendering of his brand of mechanical funk and psychedelic hip hop. We've been here before, but it's still a lovely listen. [May 2009, p.95]

Sway, however, doesn't command proceedings quite like Chuck D and the prosaic narratives of tracks like 'That Girl' are no substitute for verbal fireworks. Nearly though. [May 2009, p.101]

Over the course of 80 compelling minutes they roam laggardly through rural post-rock, prog, folk, ambient and doom metal pastures without ever trying your patience. [May 2009, p.80]

Wooden Shjips continue their work in simple but effective grooves, around which the band discursively noodle. [Jun 2009, p.113]

There's a frayed but genuinely exploratory vibe here, that's not afraid to get tough. [Jul 2009, p.91]

Jeniferever rise above cliches with 10 beautiful songs that take the Sigur Rose blueprint and expand on it. [May 2009, p.89]

Though the production has improved, there's still a certain lyrical flimsiness and a sense that, enjoyable and stylish as Two Suns is, it's still just horsing around in the dressing-up box of '80s pop, in a way that's more Might Boosh than Kate Bush. [May 2009, p.77]

Levi's eclectic debut strikes a winning balance between electro-glitch cacophony and shouty grrrl-pop. [Mar 2009, p.92]

By expanding their repertoire, taking a few risks, and nailing those harmonies, they’ve made what feels like the first great British album of 2009.

Jigsaw finds the diminutive London rapper shorter on cheek than on her early singles, and the moments of mischief, when they come, ring a little hollow. [Jun 2009, p.90]

If that person favours the smoking, ragged garage rock that comprises the bulk of Fork In The Road, then you’d have to conclude, job done.

A grown-up record that hints at a more excitable wayward past. [May 2009, p.91]

As a State of the Union address, this bold and often brilliant record is less inclined towards optimism than, say, Springsteen’s admirable "Working On A Dream."

This lolls with a neat mix of languor and subtle urgency through the kind of smart/funk The Beloved mastered 20 years ago. [Jun 2009, p.90]

Now We Can See feels a sunnier listen, bracing indie-rock with few frills but a joyfully juvenile energy and choruses to spare. [Jun 2009, p.103]

Crucially, it always feels as if Crystal Antlers are having a blast, continually cold-shouldering the obvious and pushing each other to the limits of their musicianship and beyond. [May 2009, p.87]

Elliott is better at world-weariness than he is at sass, but has enough guile to mould the songs in his own image.

It resembles The Boredoms in its sense of sonic bravery, although the suspicion lingers that more focus is required before they can produce another record of the calibre of 2002's "Beaches And Canyons." [May 2009, p.79]

Self-indulgent in all the best ways, their third album isn't afraid to explore an idea for nine minutes, locating that revelatory moment when structure caves into soul. [May 2009, p.105]

Lerner's voice--pale and uninteresting, rather than poinant--allow his songs to sag. [Sep 2009, p.96]

A Positive Rage is something of a misnomer, since hardcore fury rates low on the Steady agenda. More crucial is the band’s 3-D storytelling on muscular guitars, and Craig Finn’s traditional chat about joy in the encore.

Swift's stock-in-trade remains droll, gently roistering piano songs, mostly indebted to Harry Nilsson. [May 2009, p.97]

Driven by two drummers they owe much to the styles of Fucked Up, The Dillinger Escape Plan and Torche, but on 'Black Wax' they apply the brakes, revealing a surprising amount of melodic, colle-rock bounce. [May 2009, p.82]

It painstakingly captures the carefree spirit of hard rock as you'd have found it halfway down the bill a Reading Rock, 1998. [Apr 2009, p.78]

Despite its obvious debt to the ’80s and its (appreciated) nods to the trio’s own past, it’s their most modern, innovative record yet.

Together, Harvey and Parish sound confidently experimental, like two soldiers daring each other to ever more stupendous feats of history.

With so many bases cases covered, there's something for young folks and old folks--even if suspicious folks will still need some convincing. [Apr 2009, p.93]

A so-so collection of lushly orchestrated Brazilian bossa novas and ballads that unite Mrs. Costello with Frank Sinatra's arranger claus Ogerman. [Apr 2009, p.82]

Hints of "The Basement Tapes" glimmer through pieces like 'Win Park Slope' or 'Airstream Driver,' while John Martyn and Nick Drake ride again in the mystic folkery of 'Little Pieces.' [May 2009, p.86]

An uncommonly thoughtful victory lap, which deserves--and has received--a handsome recorded memorial.

Rules finds The Whitest Boy Alive turning noticeably paler, peddling a shade of Ralph Lauren yacht-rock that would make Hall & Oates blush. [May 2009, p.105]

This stellar set is anchored by existential bar-band thumper 'Just About Time' and 'homeland Refugees.' [May 2009, p.86]

What Labyrinthes lacks in instant anthems, it makes up for in rich melodies, grand orchestration, and blooming arrangements, that stop short of bombast. [Jun 2009, p.92]

At its peaks, it remains bracing in its intensity. But between climatic passages defined by Nathan Weaver's hoarse roar and stern batteries of kickdrum, the band seems to recede into misty, ambient washes that are engaging in their heavy melancholy. [Apr 2009, p.105]

While too soft for the dancefloor, songs like :weak For me" don't scrimp on the songcraft. [Nov 2009, p.96]