Far from reining it in on his major label debut, he's stretching out even further. [May 2022, p.36]

A fairly respectable blend of new and reworked older material, deconstructing vintage 1970s tracks like "Mr. Bassie" into airy melodica ripples and sinewy basslines. [May 2022, p.23]

On the feverishly catchy bubblegum punk of tracks like “Talk About It” and “Petals” they sound something like Dolly Parton fronting Blondie ... And, on tracks like “Happy Hour” and “Crossing Lines”, the interplay between twin guitarists Adam Johnstone and Fergus Sinclair is reminiscent of Television, which adds to the CBGBs vibe. [May 2022, p.35]

Joyous cosmic weirdness. [May 2022, p.36]

Add sublime dimensions to James's already impressive canon. [May 2022, p.36]

Jess Wolfe and Holly Laessig apply a dance-pop shine to the 10 songs here, an approach that lightens the load of heavy-hearted lyrics rooted in changes and challenges like Wolfe’s recent divorce. [May 2022, p.30]

Richly cinematic and more eclectic than recent efforts. [May 2022, p.25]

Though the motherlode of unreleased music found on Slanted And Enchanted and Crooked Rain, Crooked Rain’s reissues is absent, many of the extra tracks here are worth checking out. ... The rest of this set shows that it’s still a station very much worth stopping at, now more so than ever. [May 2022, p.42]

Fletcher’s and Pursey’s The Catenary Wires offer sweet vocals and dirty guitars on “Wall Of Sound” and Heavenly comrade Peter Momtchiloff jangles in French on Tufthunter’s “Monsier Jadis”, while Secret Shine still pursue shoegaze, Boyracer remain appealingly chaotic, and Sepiasound’s bucolic instrumental “Arcadian” maintains Blueboy’s yearning. [Apr 2022, p.36]

You Belong There is an album rich in moments of beauty and wisdom, even as it confesses that there are no easy answers. [May 2022, p.18]

He sings the gospel with everything pared back to its essence: a flinty guitar tone, that surprisingly recalls the chipped, clanking tones of Pip Proud or Mayo Thompson; a throaty, gorgeous voice; beautiful, soul-informed backing, only when it’s needed. [May 2022, p.24]

The legendary guitarist-turned-frontman leads his mates through supercharged honky-tonk (“Brigitte Bardot”), headbangers (“Cheap Talk”, “External Combustion”) and a ZZ Top-style tailfin rave-up (“Lightning Boogie”).

Smart, sharp and endlessly stimulating. [May 2022, p.36]

Brisk and adrenalised, Wet Leg leaves little room to get bored, and is impressively low on filler for a debut. Even the sketchy minor tracks earn their place here. [May 2022, p.33]

His honeyed, Elliott Smith-esque vocal adds to the lush warmth of spare but forceful arrangements, softening the blows soaked up by his songs’ baffled and blitzed Angelenos. [May 2022, p.29]

Like The Knife's opera about Charles Darwin, The Unfolding tackles the biggest themes in a way that's awed, never overwrought. [May 2022, p.32]

While songs like “Nashville Mess Around” heighten the good-time vibes, Crooked Tree’s often playful manner is balanced by deeper considerations.

The Next 20th Century contains a bunch of songs – “Goodbye Mr Blue”, “We Could Be Strangers”, “Buddy’s Rendezvous” – that go right to the gut with their instant melodic charm, and a bunch more – “Kiss Me (I Loved You)”, “Q4”, “Only A Fool”, “The Next 20th Century” – that are deeply striking a few listens later thanks to their sumptuous arrangements, exceptional playing and emotional pull. [May 2022, p.24]

Huge, head-rushing opener “Happy New Year” and sad banger “Hall Of Mirrors” exemplify the giddy “new” LEG, while the country-folk “Sunday”, powerfully harmonised “Strange Conversations” and Angel Olsen-ish title track are maturations of their earlier sounds. [May 2022, p.30]

His verse is relentlessly positivistic and hippy-ish (“I go forward in the courage of my love”), delivered in a conspiratorial whisper, but the highlight is the backing, which drifts between spiritual jazz, skeletal dub and folksy minimalism, all the time featuring Fairbairn’s quiet, quavering tenor sax improvisations. [May 2022, p.26]

Occasionally it can feel like you’re listening to in-jokes playing on repeat, but good tunes like “Eight Minute Machines” (Sleaford Mods, 1978) and “Twitchin’ In The Kitchen” (“It’s Tricky” repurposed for drug users) emerge from the funky environs with characterful fuzz intact. [May 2022, p.36]

The piano house pop of “Woman” and synth-fuelled trance of “Holiday” could have been released in 1992, but they’re no less likeable for it. They’re shot through with CM’s trademark wry cool, as is “What I Like”, wherein Sugar Bones’ laconic vocal makes a dancefloor anthem sound somehow like The Dandy Warhols gone disco. [May 2022, p.25]

There's a sharper focus this time round. [Apr 2022, p.31]

Williams' charismatic performance, switching between English and Ibibio, keeps the songs grounded in the "rage, hope, soul" she sings about on "Freedom"; the synth, brass and rhythm make them dancefloor bangers regardless. [May 2021, p.29]

Margo's curled-lip rock sneer and urgent folk purity stay sides of the same coolly distanced conviction. [Apr 2022, p.26]

What threads these eight songs together into a true album rather than just a compilation is the idea – the threat, the inevitability – of leaving and being left. Partly that’s due to Auerbach’s judicious curation, but that fear of loss animates almost all of Son House’s music, if not all of the blues in general. ... House conveys as much joy on these songs as he does pain, telling us so many years after his death that we cannot experience one without the other.

His latest is less complex and makes a strong move to the dancefloor, without ditching the intrigue. [Apr 2022, p.26]

Harding goes wherever her voice takes her, and like fellow apostate traditionalist Richard Dawson, she is comfortable picking for shiny scraps of melody on the hard shoulder. As a consequence, these songs command close attention but – like the messy universe around them – do not necessarily beg to be decoded. [Apr 2022, p.18]