A little less density and a higher level of self-restraint might have made for a more balanced collection admittedly but the irrepressible refreshed conviction is still impressive.

Whilst Trees Outside The Academy isn't quite as breathtaking as it could/should be, especially given the niggling-feeling that Moore didn't give the album 100% of his attention, even when he had a fresher formula at his disposal, it does contain some consistently strong material that complements as well as outshines his best latter-day Sonic Youth wares.

This is a band that is as strong as ever and on the pleasurable Hey Venus! sound downright terrific.

Fields sounds commandingly assured with songs that ache and bristle with lush convictions.

If you get one psych album this year, make it Valende.

Neither too mature (i.e. boring), nor too desperately age-defying (i.e. embarrassing), Three Easy Pieces potently reenergizes older Tom trademarks as well as imprinting a few new ones.

This summer, don't just think about going surfing, listen to Strange Heaven instead.

On the whole this is a richly inventive and enthralling eponymous long-player from a side-project with legs of its own.

Throughout Light Of A Vaster Dark there is an overriding sense of closeness and inclusiveness that draws you in and belies any accusations of pretentiousness that might otherwise come from straying into musical terrain far off the road so over-travelled.

This isn't just a novel idea that is haphazardly hashed out but rather, the work of two impeccable musicians and it's a fine addition to either musician's catalog and a brilliant one at that.

This is certainly a breath of fresh air in what was a slow year for hip-hop.

Catchy yet intense guitarwork, intricate rhythms, soft and hard moments, and layers of Shehan's amazing voice - it all combines to create one amazing album.

Those without a stomach for a little humor in their music will surely thumb their noses, but for everyone else, this is essential listening: a whip-smart band of originals, living with death, throwing coconuts at the rest of us from greener pastures.

The noises on Rivers, while off-beat, are more or less pleasurable, not testing the listener--instead introducing them, guiding down the increasingly sealed-off world the record builds for itself.

DOOM isn’t really offering you anything new, and it’s got some clunkers like 'Operation: Doomsday' and 'MM...Food' before that. This album is, however, a reaffirmation of DOOM’s talent as both a rapper and a producer.

Musically, it’s far and away ahead of most hip-hop artists, and lyrically, it’s a clever approach that goes beyond the heart-on-your-sleeve indie-rock lyricsheet.

Whilst Moore’s meandering stops Sonic Nurse from going that much needed extra mile, Kim Gordon and Lee Ranaldo are on reassuringly good form.

Volta is her most accessible album in years, even if it is sometimes at the expense of its own best interest.

Sleigh Bells' sophomore LP is unlikely to be met with the same peerless adulation as its predecessor, but Reign of Terror still seduces with an uncanny knack for extracting a pioneering spirit out of musty source material.

Compared to the wild noise they made on albums like Milk Man and Reveille, Deerhoof vs. Evil is definitely a different kind of wild noise all on itself. Don't expect the crazed madness of the former's title track but don't expect to be disappointed either.

At this stage in his career, Loudon Wainwright III could forgivably have lost some of his mojo, but on the life-affirming evidence of Haven’t Got The Blues (Yet), there’s still plenty of great songwriting left in the tank.

Ashes Grammar takes what they accomplished on SMCJ and attenuates it, stretching it into new shapes and sizes, avoiding a retread of their debut album by avoiding the traditions of the album form altogether.

Pop sensibilities are allowed to swell over, into and around each other; each song blends the seams of the core into a fragmented, disjointed, appropriately-meshing of sounds and in the end, Love this Giant is a magnificent triumph because of it all.

Whilst Jeffrey Lewis’s self-knowing musings and musical personas will still remain an acquired peripheral taste for some, it’s pleasing that Manhattan finds him in such rude health, as arguably his most compelling and charismatic collection since 2007’s 12 Crass Songs.

The King is Dead serves as enough solid music to lull us over until the next official album.

Six extended entanglements that capture the spirit of willful experimentation and magnetic pull of melody.

Though generally a triumph, the album has a couple cuts that feel unsubstantiated.

It’s a coherent, engaging experience.