If you’re after dark, bloody romance with a twist, look no further.

Has some moribund slumps.

If this was any more showbiz it’d be performed on ice.

The incessant hooklines cloy a little after repeated listens, but that’s hardly the most damning criticism of a pop band.

The Loon owes so much to Stephen Malkmus and Frank Black that one imagines lawyers might be called.

Short answer: it’s good.

My Dark Places captures the offbeat brilliance that made the TVPs indie legends in the 70s, characterised by Treacy’s endearingly slapdash attitude towards singing in tune and playing in time.

Boasts little in the way of joie de vivre.

Love Travels At Illegal Speeds is good stuff that doesn’t drive you round the bend. It doesn’t pack any surprises either.

This anthology of new and previously released 7” singles is inevitably somewhat dishevelled as an album, but then this extraordinary band has always worked best in bite-size.

A more straightforward affair than previous works, and as such suffers from predictability.

Together, they’re a marriage made in musical haven.

It’s clear that chemistry was in the air.

There are few dynamic surprises here, and no serrated edges, but this disc's strength lies in its building mass of lumbering, decelerated funk, its textures gluey and thick.

It’s exciting stuff, simple yet deadly effective.

Features an excess of accumulated ingredients with predictably indigestible results.

This is cathartic, psychically haunted fare; pleasing and troubling in equal measure.

Their sophomore album is surprisingly world-weary, but brims with an almost brutal rawness and betrays the pair’s striking talent for storytelling.

Possibly their best and certainly most joyously eclectic album yet.

Filling the gaps between Prince and !!!, this is for those who spent the last two decades shaking their hips rather than banging their heads.

This mini album sometimes feels as if it’s thrown together like quickly-packed luggage.

Sensuous, subtle but emotionally overwhelming dreamscapes, whose luminous beauty makes pigeonholing nigh on impossible.

This will end up flying off the shelves for sure.

A textbook lesson in sublime but understated country soul.

For Bonnie Prince Billy it's an atypically sexless affair with only his version of Richard Thompson’s Calvary Cross worthy of his previous covers record, More Revery.

An addictive and immersive debut album.

Preposterous, touching and brilliant.

Stately, midtempo tunes whose immaculate production belies the darkness at their core.