Shot through with attention to detail and the lush production typical of Dunkel’s main concern, Darkel might have its moments of archness but it knows how to shake it’s booty, too.

Coming in 2007 it sounds oddly fresh, but nothing here’s as full-on as their early stuff or as lovely as Feel The Pain.

There are few dynamic surprises here, and no serrated edges, but this disc's strength lies in its building mass of lumbering, decelerated funk, its textures gluey and thick.

It's perfect for passing down the crown of Malian desert blues.

The lyrics are often sublime, of course, but there are big, stupid choruses too.

Don't expect the gumption of Super Furries, instead bask in the mellow psychedelic ramblings of Gruff unplugged.

Having eschewed the over-earnest knob-twiddling of erstwhile producer Steve Albini, Verity Susman’s vocals and Mia Clarke’s guitars now sound crisp and urgent, and when the envelope gets pushed... the band’s detached cool melts into a pleasing joi de vivre.

The production is smoother, but when Sleeping Lessons morphs from an opiate dream to a riffing stomp with such exhilarating economy, or Red Rabbits wraps drunkenly swaying strings around yet another firmament-bound chorus, you can forgive an occasional excess of slickness.

Even the most melancholy moments... have airy jazz arrangements that let them breathe.

Despite flashes of unexpected vigour, Everybody is ultimately more variation-on-a-theme than it is wheel reinvention.

It’s a fun mess, and although heavily indebted to 60s psyche folk and acid rock, Astronomy For Dogs has a verve and colour that saves it from derivative pastiche.

The freewheeling garage bangers of Original Pirate Material have receded into the distance and we’re left with stabbing high-range synths... resulting in an album that’s charming and witty, but not as exhilarating as it might have been.

This may not measure up to The Hour Of Bewilderbeast, but it does boast a batch of sweet and deceptively unfussy, scruffily heartfelt tunes dealing with love, loss and the messiness of life that help redeem his unarguable songwriting talent.

The Go! Team are clearly committed to the lo-fi, DIY aesthetic, but with songs as strong as these it’s rather a shame they didn’t apply a little depth and finesse to their production.

At the heart of this album is a trio of absolute killers.

It’s a step backwards for sure, but a worthwhile one.

Good Bad, Not Evil delivers 13 testosterone-crazed grooves which mercifully give finicky revivalism the swerve, in favour of fuzz-frazzled sonics and lots of fun.

It’s a one-trick pony album sure, but what a trick.

A welcome reminder of the Brummie art-poppers’ lighter, brighter past.

Heartfelt but sometimes overly polite.

Roots And Echoes is an album of songs with all the warmth and familiarity of old leather--and as strangely unexciting as that sounds.

NYPC's restrained disco needs to rip it up and get wilder, cos this down‘n’dirty posse is actually cleaner than a Boots cosmetics counter.

This anthology of new and previously released 7” singles is inevitably somewhat dishevelled as an album, but then this extraordinary band has always worked best in bite-size.

The incessant hooklines cloy a little after repeated listens, but that’s hardly the most damning criticism of a pop band.

This is cathartic, psychically haunted fare; pleasing and troubling in equal measure.