It's a substantial and rewarding work.

If you want it to be, it's brilliant. It's also a record so ambitious, so angry, and so mad-as-a-goose that there are otherwise intelligent people who will hear it once and straight away deem it an interminable racket. [30 Apr 2005, p.61]

Anne-Marie’s bold personality is finally given a chance to shine on a no-nonsense album that’s overflowing with chart-busting tunes and real world attitude.

It works in the same way that Doves' 'Lost Souls' did; that is, by inviting us to bed down in its sumptuously familiar lyrical folds while offering us a warm mug of Something A Bit Different.

Loud, weighty but oddly civilised.

Across the whole record, there's a kind of galactic atmosphere that gives everything an spacey edge.

In among the usual awkward, bad sex and sharp-yet-jaundiced eye on what others settle for, there's something unusual for this pair: hope. [12 Nov 2005, p.45]

From the mesmerising opener ‘Try Me’ to ‘Little Things’, a nod to UK funky that has potential to rival ‘On My Mind’ for her biggest dancefloor heater, ‘Falling or Flying’ reveals itself much like Solange’s 2019 album ‘When I Get Home’: an uncompromising and arresting treasure of a record.

Jockstrap sound like nobody else at the moment, and they’ve barely started.

For ‘Big Joanie’ to musically expand this thoroughly yet retain the core of their appeal and singular brilliance on ‘Back Home’ feels remarkable, and you get a sense that it’s far from a final form for the band.

Last retains the intimacy of their previous recordings, but it's augmented with more orchestral flourishes.

As Post tries new sounds on for size, some git better than others. Sometime it feels as though he’s still trying to figure this out as he goes. But it’s when he keeps things simple and goes beyond the clichés that he feels most like himself. ... Hollywood’s Bleeding is a playlist made for these times. It’s going to be huge.

‘Fuse’, their first album since 1999, is precisely that: the blueprint for any alt-leaning electronic act in the pop space.

Personal yet relatable pop music that makes itself heard thanks to its intricacies, ‘& The Charm’ is a remarkable evolution.

‘Cheater’ is one hell of a trip with a rare band who are singularly themselves. No-one else could do what Pom Poko do.

Quite frankly, after just one listen to Promises Promises, Die! Die! Die! could set fire to our first born and we’d still be staring at them in doe-eyed wonder. Cold showers necessary.

This record is a striking reminder of why Shygirl is one of the capital’s brightest talents.

Patience proved a virtue and ‘Blue Rev’ stands as an ode to continuing to evolve despite obstacles, slowly honing and tweaking your craft, and keeping on moving. It’s another total delight from the Canadians.

From thunderous Mafioso fable 'Live To Die' to A$AP Rocky-starring calypso riot 'I Got Money' via Snoop Dogg collab '1,2 1,2', the Chef's steely signature East Coast flow has seldom sounded more imperious.

There's a new depth to the murderous lyricism here that discounts any possibility he's renounced violence. [12 Mar 2005, p.58]

These ideas of acceptance, hope and personal reflection make The Rip Tide an accomplished, restrained record, which sees Condon forgetting his travels, and forging his own native sound.

This catchy and characterful album already feels like a job well done. When this girl’s having fun, we are too.

A collection of tangible emotional snapshots, brief but telling entries in a musical journal.

Similarities to She And Him abound, but minus Zooey's showtune splendour, the vulnerability in Caitlin's voice chimes as true as the clink of a quarter in an old jukebox.

The Voidz and Julian might not be the most predictable band to pin down, but there are at least some things that we’ve come to expect from them: whatever they do will be interesting, unusual and thought-provoking. On Virtue, they’ve hit the jackpot with a bonus ball--fun.

From a less skilled artist, such a disparate-sounding album might morph into a collage of loose touchstones. Hayley Williams, on the other hand, draws clearly from other artists but retains her voice at the centre. Her frankness cuts through across Petals For Armor.

The four piece’s debut album is a grubby, clattering thing that takes its lead from 1980s LA punk trailblazers like X and The Gun Club, who took traditional country music and fed it moonshine until it fell down in a ditch, then scraped the mud off its jeans, handed it a microphone and a broken electric guitar and made it walk through broken glass to sing in a grotty toilet venue bar over a broken PA system.

The Chemistry Of Common Life finally proves that rather than being a messy gimmick, Fucked Up are a startlingly talented punk rock band.