Nguzunguzu have always had something that stood them apart from imitators, but with Warm Pulse they are coming into their own as a reference in their own right.

Neither spectacular or deflating, Coexist is simply the sound of the xx, more or less just as we left it: minimalist, intuitive, romantic and enchanting. Consequently it's a good album, for exactly the same qualities that made their debut likewise.

Ultimately, the overall feeling of Mature Themes is of a band and songwriter that don't really care. So why should we?

The Seer is clearly brilliant, and may even be Swans' finest album yet, three decades in.

In both musical and studio accomplishment Holy Other has come into his own as strong, individual, musical voice; Held is a strong display of this and is going to make a lot of people very happy indeed.

It's as if by having every tool and style of every era and nation available to them at the press of a button has stripped AC's world of its mystery; as if there's nothing more to discover.

Coupled with a diminished knack for melody and slower (r'n'b-aping) tempos, conveying a vaguely subdued mood, the difficult Fragrant World just isn't what most people would consider fun.

Steam Days is a worthwhile--if slightly unseasonal--listen.

When Teengirl are on form, their music is a heady thing: house music sent delirious on a glut of ideas, or pop working to some half-known criteria. It's an unstable edifice, though, and too often the results fall flat.

Despite the occasional tendency to soar above when her songs could benefit from some earthiness, in the main Ware's sheer, confident boldness carries the day.

At the moment, it feels like he's clinging tenaciously to the edge of disco's seamy grandeur: held there by a certain stiffness, seriousness even.

LHF offer up their most extensive, immersive work to date.

Regional Surrealism will leave you with a sense of the unresolved, but that's no bad thing: think of it not as a neatly contained expressive statement so much as a window onto a deeply idiosyncratic meditative practice.

Unselfconscious and joyfully untrammelled, most importantly Never is charmingly weird--that quality so coveted by indie chancers everywhere.

In short, it's big, dumb, and a lot of fun, but the overriding feel to TNGHT is that it feels closer to being the start of something great than a great record in itself.

The album wants to be eccentric, but it severely lacks personality.

The fact is, what we're presented with here isn't filler exactly, but it's certainly not killer either.

The self-awareness of this conflict makes Life Is Good a more compelling listen than Nas has delivered in a while.

The final outcome is a trebly plastic-fantastic quality, rendering Shrines closer in tone and texture to coke-rap than ethereal indie.

A largely beatific album, it propagates love over high living, but also shipped is the urban locale, the one-dimensional serenading and the cartoonish sexuality that informs a significant percentage of mainstream r'n'b, substituted for the same precocious wisdom, emotional intelligence, writerly nuance and reasoned portrayal of lust displayed on the Tumblr post.

A Collection... isn't Maus' best record--played back to back with We Must Become The Pitiless Censors Of Ourselves, it blanches in comparison--but it's a fine insight into the mind of an inspired Lord Of Misrule.

The Idler Wheel... is her most adult work yet, a record that's underpinned by the fundamental grown-up characteristic of embracing one's own ridiculous, stubborn dysfunction because, Hell, what other option is there?

Swing Lo Magellan features some of the Dirty Projectors' most straightforward pop songs to date.

Believe doesn't always live up to the standards of its best cuts.

Better Living remains a repetitive, tonally monotonous album. But its a repetitiousness which works to further evoke a life of spirit-crushing routine, while reinforcing the idea of a permanent headache.

Primal but denatured, >> leaves you feeling wired, lethal and focused; dehumanized.

By the end, you only want more: you find yourself wishing that Neneh Cherry and The Thing would just go ahead and cover every song in the world in this inimitable manner.

Lucifer is a very pleasant listen, but then so are The Wailers, without Bob.