While it might be missing the high stakes and dramatic flourishes of nomadic drug-fuelled hysteria, this album is most certainly a tapestry of earthy tones, lush melodies, and the feeling that, in the words of Jack Kerouac, “dreaming ties all mankind together”

There’s only so many jangly guitars, high-pitched vocals, and tales of moving to the big smoke that one needs in an album before it starts to grate

For all its multi-locale sessions and noble attempts at breaking down categorisation, Distance in Static just never ventures anywhere too thrilling Bonobo’s worldly electronica flex would try to convince otherwise

Packed with caustic drama and moments of real heart, Half-Told Tales makes clear that Arab Strap are still well connected to their alt-pop alchemy that fuelled former glories, that likewise has dreamed up a fine record cementing their always unique presence in the indie world

We’re watching the world fall apart in real time. Ever wondered what that sounded like? On Who Loves the Sun, Chat Pile expose the contradictions and controversies at the heart of the compendium of chaos with searing lyricism and exciting instrumentation

James’ latest record offers a collage of modern-day musings to soundtrack the overstimulated mind, lifting you away from the intensity of everyday life and onto a journey towards some much-needed relaxation

Buckle up, because they’re on their way to something big

Another strong entry into Interpol’s practically faultless line of records

There’s no radical from Dinosaur Jr’s slacker rock attack, but There Near still bottles enough electric magic between a trio who know how to hash it out in a basement and capture some gripping, lo-fi conjury

Alabama Shakes could have never created an album like this if they’d simply carried on from where they were in 2015. They needed the time and space to grow, heal, and evolve before they could even consider getting back in a room again, let alone making a record

While an intriguing narrative idea that longtime fans will lap up, John Carpenter’s “heavy metal” exercise with his trusty son and godson band can just never shake off a tacky air that robs the album of its Gothic dread or evocative transport

As a companion to Something, it’s a pleasant listen that still shows just how inventive Holter can be as a composer

To give him his dues, and while admittedly running the risk of sounding slightly patronising, this is proper country and western, and not just some half-arsed attempt at a cash grab

Its bold confidence to be unapologetically hymnal in the chaotic year of 2026 is fresh and commendable

There’s an undeniable youthfulness to the record, a sort of vitality that exists in the early 20s outlook where everything could live or die in one moment

It’s an album full of questions, full of seeking, and of quietly accepting solitude until some of the answers begin to become clear. It’s an album that flicks a match or lights a candle in the dark, and holds onto the hope that the light brings, for as long as it remains

He is expressing himself in a manner unlike anything else he’s ever done, and to draw yourself away from what people might expect you to bring to the table and freely experiment on untrodden terrain is a brave thing to do when you’ve got 40 years of legacy behind you

While not crafting ambient elevators to greatness as they used to, Boards of Canada still know how to craft moving wanders of electronica that manage to avoid the clichés of their hauntological successors

Here it is. The tricky debut album. How many times have we seen bands gain a bit of momentum and then lose it all the minute that first LP hits the airwaves? Well, it’s Mary in the Junkyard’s turn to bat, and I’m happy to report, they’ve knocked this debut record out of the park

Reaffirming their position at the top of the UK’s post-punk and alternative music landscape – albeit with a sonic approach entirely different to their previous two albums – Yard Act have struck upon a truly great album in You’re Gonna Need A Little Music