If You Leave is a damaged debut, then, but the way the hues of its bruises blend into each other is wholly hypnotic. It wants to love, again, but has chosen darkness.

This is electro-pop with palpable emotion possessing its fizzing keys, guided by a vocal performance that underplays the fraught feelings found on the lyric sheet.

It’s a fine Suede record, a passionate and seductive creature which reminds us of how distinctive and dynamic this most underestimated band can be.

While Mala retains an inquisitive aural attitude--there in its markedly electronic palette, and its squirly, scuffly sound--there’s also limberness to this set of songs, a feeling of them all moving happily together.

On the whole, this is an interesting experiment in the creative process, as well as the values of musicianship and friendship.

Through its songs he conveys truths about this country in a way that few other English songwriters, if any, are able to do.

Isles ends up an easy pleasure--nothing too weighty, but substantial in its way.

This is a second album that genuinely builds upon its predecessor. Exile reinforces the feeling in modern pop that no other group sounds quite as hurt as Hurts.

Muchacho is a vibrant, evocative LP, and a welcome addition to the Phosphorescent catalogue.

There’s no real ‘wow factor’ to Talé despite its star guests. But it’s a loveable enough effort.

The initial surprise on this follow-up is discovering that Grant’s songs work as well--if not even better--when paired with a synth-pop backing rooted more in the 1980s than the preceding decade.

In another dimension, this is the soundtrack to a high-budget sci-fi romp. In the here and now, it’s a great escape from the drudgery of everyday ordinariness, a rollicking ride on one seriously funky UFO.

The Deserters, given a chance, will completely negate any such journalistic silliness with just one listen, because it is a jolt of psychedelic, oozing instrumental wonder and songwriting magnificence.

Hookworms could become something genuinely astonishing in a few albums’ time, and Pearl Mystic is a fine foundation indeed.

Wray and Walker’s transatlantic pairing is beautifully natural.

While his customary playfulness in dissecting matters of the heart and cerebellum is a reassuring hallmark of Love From London, the album also proffers a brooding, politicised, sometimes incensed Hitchcock.

This latest collection offers a tantalising glimpse of how Hendrix's genius might have progressed.

Ash Workman and James Ford keep the production consistently intriguing, and repeated listens reveal fresh nuances and ideas. This is new music worth hearing.

Fluid and at times utterly beautiful, few will grow tired of these songs living in their headphones.

Graffiti on the Train is clearly the work of a man and an outfit that's done the rock'n'roll thing and is now easing into the next step. This is a solid enough start.

Admittedly, the album contains the odd soporific song like No Freedom, but these turns are outweighed by tracks with a strong tune or an unexpected hint of sadness.

Bad Blood is a really gratifying debut that feels like a solution.

Just because it is not music that shouts about itself, that dazzles with pyrotechnics or showboating guitar solos, its profundity and emotional heft is nevertheless, and perhaps even all the more, striking.

This is probably Foxx’s most superior post-Ultravox! LP to date, and definitely his best in a very long time.

It’s hard not to by won over, once again, by Moore’s indomitable, eternal teenager energy.

So Les Revenants has, by virtue of finding perfect inspiration, become one of the more satisfyingly coherent and rangy of Mogwai's records.

On Old Yellow Moon, in that hokiest of country traditions--the boy/girl duet--an old alliance triumphs with charm.

The two hours of Exai is something else. This is Autechre operating at their highest level since 1998’s LP5.