Her debut full-length retains the intimacy of those bedroom recordings [on Soundcloud] while making good on their promise, with cleaner melodies and production texture pulled from the pop, hip-hop and indie music. [Jun 2023, p.31]

As autobiographies go, it's fairly oblique but no less intriguing for it. [Jul 2023, p.36]

Suitably laid back and gently psychedelic, unhurried guitars wringing through the breeze, harmonies washed in from The Notorious Bryd Brothers. [Sep 2023, p.32]

It's a warm, modestly confident record with elegant touches, and one that spits out occasional sparks, too. [Sep 2023, p.27]

The biggest spiritual influence is The Kinks, another band adept at exploring London’s darker undercurrents. On Theatre Of The Absurd…, Madness gleefully peer through the net curtains of life, revealing the moth-eaten carpets and peeling wallpaper obscured by the elaborate facades we all hide behind. [Dec 2023, p.24]

Skillfully blending soft and harsh sonic moments: heartbreak, anxiety, lust. [Jan 2024, p.30]

Yummy can be lyrically awkward as Tim Booth addresses conspiracy theories and digital addition. Often, though, influences brewed via innocent '80s indie and lusty Emo ambience spark arresting hybrids. [Apr 2024, p.35]

Jain often subverts the placid mood with playful details, like the fractalised vocals that fill "Our Touching Tongues" or the synth arpeggios that add a sprightly energy throughout. [Apr 2024, p.35]

Their largely extemporised debut traverses free jazz, drone, spiritual music and experimental rock, establishing moods from contemplative to panicky and eruptive. [Jun 2024, p.29]

There’s a sometimes bipolar feel to the 10 original tracks, particularly the first half, before the four singles crash in to save the day. .... Sleevenotes, memorabilia, alternate takes, B-sides and demos galore, although vibrant live cuts such as a 1979 tear through “Message In A Bottle” offer the most value beyond curiosity.

For all Metheny’s experiments with electronics, or the orchestral sweep of albums such as 2020’s Dream Box, these solo pieces on baritone string guitar contain his essence of mellow melodicism and romance. [Aug 2024, p.38]

It’s their most reflective and measured set yet, a record of personal experiences with broad-spectrum resonance for our peculiar times, still charged with the thrill of creativity. [Aug 2024, p.33]

Running the gamut from freakbeat to post-Sabbath blues rock to dark prog invention. [Sep 2024, p.50]

This Is BASIC plays as galvanising and gleeful, not only to audience effect but clearly for its makers, too. In all of that, it’s anything but. [Oct 2024, p.32]

A sense of tin-pot invention run through You're Only Young Once. [Review of the Year 2024, p.35]

As with most ambient works, English's LP plays best as a set piece, through gauzy, soft-gushing epic "V" is a particular beauty. [Jan 2025, p.34]

Though this set is necessarily reflective, nostalgia and self-pity don't get a look in. [Apr 2025, p.33]

"Where Are You?" confirms they mean business, if in peak Simple Minds manner. [Oct 2025, p.24]

A curious hybrid. Side One is a series of haunting instrumentals. .... Side Two sees his chamber jazz outfit provide delicate accompaniment for assorted vocalists. [Nov 2025, p.36]

These deceptively simple, acoustic songs of nature, family and love, so spritely they sometimes only narrowly escape mawkishness, could be centuries old, but sound as if they're being sung for the first time. [Review of the Year 2025, p.21]

An album of gently textured art pop, the lightness of her voice and almost ethereal sounds in direct contrast to the diaristic darkness of lyrics that explore raw, familial emotions. [Mar 2026, p.29]

Julie takes lead on a few numbers, but otherwise this is raw, classic Childish. [May 2026, p.29]

This incarnation features plenty of impressive fusion pyrotechnics from guitarist John Etheridge and saxophonist Theo Travis, but the highlights dig deep into Soft Machine's legacy. [Mar 2026, p.36]

If you can forgive Condon’s mannered delivery and overabundance of drunken waltz rhythms, this is an audacious experiment in cultural appropriation, an enchanting musical holiday in someone else’s misery.

For all its easy charms, Triplicate labours its point to the brink of overkill. After five albums' worth of croon toons, this feels like a fat full stop on a fascinating chapter. [May 2017, p.22]

This follow-up is cleaner, from the grand arrangements to the lyrics about true love rather than tits and ass, but is never bland. [Nov 2012, p.71]