There are four CDs' worth but it's enormously rewarding, like mid-period Miles Davis playing Ligeti.

Interesting to see that a few of the unused songs from the period (1978) push the released material for quality.

Stapleton's writing for this recording, satisfies on every level.

"I wanted", Ocean wrote, "to create worlds that were rosier than mine. I tried to channel overwhelming emotions." Mission accomplished, and then some.

This may well be Henriksen’s most approachable album--certainly for people coming to him for the first time--and even the semi-commercial breakthrough he deserves. It is also absolutely sublime.

It starts nervily and there's some creative recycling of motifs, but once he builds up a head of steam the force is truly with him.

The end result is a tense, powerful and emotive piece of work.

Annie Clark’s fourth album is frequently extraordinary.

This is a band for fans of Leonard Cohen, Scott Walker and Nick Cave who wondered where their next great love was coming from...it's already here.

A good “deluxe” remaster job will do at least two things: one, it’ll strip away centuries of digital compression and make the music sound as if you’ve never heard it properly before; two, it’ll include additional material that gives insight into how the finished work was shaped. Moondance delivers on both counts.

Porter has made the best vocal album in an age.

Bad As Me is as good as it gets.

Simon Green, aka Bonobo, has created a beguiling and compelling narrative.

This one's a beauty.

Buckinghamshire band SBP return for their third album with a far more complex musical palette.

What comes across most is the sheer unbridled enthusiasm expressed in the complex, racing rhythms, squalling sax solos, twanging electric guitar and crooning vocals.

MBV leaves all other post-rock experimentalists looking like trivial dilettantes. If jet engines could sing, these would be their hymns.

Their 12th album covers all points from brutality to beauty in pursuit of epiphanies.

It's an album which makes you feel warm.

Rokia rocks, and it's a fine and bracing thing to hear.

It's an album about what war does to the aggressor, as much as what it does to the vanquished victim.

Catchy yet abrasive, noisy yet intimate, kind of funny yet also kind of scary, this is post-pop at its most vertiginously original.

Her self-produced fourth album executes another dramatic confidence leap.

The mood of uplifting-melancholia survives and this time out Vernon needs no dramatic backstory. Clearly, his is a talent that loves company as much as it loves misery.

Marvellous.

Everything is great.

All of this adds up to something very special indeed.

For once all that languorous muck is refreshing.