Bookended by snippets of crackling fireworks, the aptly-titled 'Celebration Rock' is big on anthems, euphoria and fistpumping rock'n'roll thrills.

There are moments of weightlessness and beauty here.

The juggernauting anthemia that has become their signature is upscaled for Reflektor, a wider-than-widescreen, 70-minute, two-disc odyssey.

Tear-stained and unsettled it may be, but the second chapter of Perfume Genius' flamboyant, disturbing story is uniquely compelling.

It’s good to have them back.

We know a damn good noise rock debut when we hear one.

It’s a compelling story; through industry difficulties and growing pains, comes a lovesick, loveable and brilliant album.

Despite expanding their sonic remit further than ever, Queens Of The Stone Age are still the same peerless band, indebted only to themselves.

Featuring cameos from David Longstreth, Chairlift’s Caroline Polachek, Kindness and more Cupid Deluxe is a rich, rewarding listen.

Fine, intelligent and, at times, thoroughly heart-warming--but you've got to work for it.

There's a nagging sense of melancholy throughout that gives these tracks a compelling and slightly haunting quality.

There’s a sheen to much of Days Are Gone that can prevent you from delving further. But it’s a minor quibble on the whole, chiefly because the songs are strong enough to keep pulling you in for repeated listens, each hook burying itself deeper and deeper.

With the wind still in their sails, Tennis have smashed another winner.

Ghostory is as potent and decadent as School Of Seven Bells have ever been.

Jamie Stewart's most preposterously tremulous and knuckle-whiteningly transgressive work.

One Breath lacks the overwhelming force of her earlier material, but given time it will surely burrow under your skin.

Psychedelic leanings and Le Bon’s fragile Welsh lilt make Mug Museum a typically unusual listen, but its sincerity shines throughout, finding beauty in the strangest, sometimes saddest of places.

Most of the songs here start like slowburn opener ‘What We Done?’, with Stelmanis’ constantly tremulous voice front and centre surrounded by ever-increasing layers of synths, padded beats and distant percussion. If you can get past it, however, there’s much to enjoy.

Delightfully creepy.

This, their fourth full-length in as many years, proves the San Franciscans are a dependable force.

Perfect imperfection.

There’s a handful of ballads too--the surest sign of maturity--but just when we think they’ve given up the pacy numbers forever, they sucker-punch us at the death with the perfect one-two combo of ‘Unwanted Place’ and ‘Young’.

It’s happy to take the listener on sudden, unexpected, journeys but also to just be exactly what it is; a really great rock album from a man who knows a thing or two about writing really great rock albums.

The Clearing is a subtle, expansive work.

The scale [on The 2nd Law] is such that you have to stand back in a kind of addled awe. Much in the same way that you might regard a 75ft-high luminous pink pissing flamingo water feature; you have to admire the size of the ambition and the craftsmanship, even if it's not something you'd necessarily want at your own house.

It’s not perfect--‘Grab Her’ and ‘Stimulation’ both outstay their welcome and the glitchy ‘Second Chance’ feels like it’s from a different album--but it’s a consistently thrilling debut.

Errors have never sounded more magnificent.

This sticky mess is his best yet.