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Struggles to strike the right balance between street cred and pop appeal.
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Loutish, drugs-fuelled fare from presently two-dimensional LA punks.
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The Nottingham quintet’s debut offers little to stand out in a crowded nu-folk market.
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A solid debut, but offering little to justify its makers’ ‘innovative’ reputation.
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Hits like a spring-mounted boxing glove to your peripheral vision.
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A movie-length fourth LP from the Oregon outfit, and little short of breathtaking.
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Sacremento singer's second album sounds disappointingly at home as background listening.
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The duo discovers depth in the often two-dimensional world of garage revivalism.
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A comfortable masterclass from a songwriter in complete command of his aesthetic.
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Something of an experimental misfire from the Norwegian producer.
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A post-breakup record that mostly makes do with sounding foxy as hell.
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If only all bands had the guts and honesty of The Maccabees.
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Another fine release from Marling, lyrically dark and sophisticated of sound.
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Chillwave comes to Oxford on this EP-sized slice of Polaroid pop.
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TVOTR are firmly in the grip of a middle age that doesn’t particularly suit them.
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A triumphant second LP after so little plain sailing between albums.
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Young Cleveland artist reveals a debut moulded in the power-pop tradition.
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A third album which stops short of revealing the man behind the mouse.
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An indispensible portrait of an artist at the top of his game.
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Tom Jenkinson’s ‘with band’ album certainly has its endearingly eccentric moments.
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An engagingly leftfield take on the great man’s output.
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San Francisco duo channels Cocteau Twins and MBV on their promising debut.
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Former Pipette’s solo debut is a beguiling portrait of an artist unbound.
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Australians’ debut displays an intuitive feel for psychedelia’s insurgent streak.
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Expect to come away from The Terror of Cosmic Loneliness nursing a very sore head indeed.
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A splendid solo adventure from the multi-monikered OutKast rapper.
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Foals’ second album discovers the missing Z, the heart, to their rigorous X and Y axes.
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The bar’s been raised, Jack White and company adding funk to their gumbo of influences.
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Coconut’s acid-fried eclecticism lacks the brutish vigour of its predecessor.
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A sound consciously rendered in refracted sunset oranges and yellows.
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A mostly winning debut that should see them go on to fine things indeed.
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A head-turning comeback 35 years after their last studio LP.