They’re on fire here and now, reassuringly within that sound world you’re familiar with but – perhaps because the album is self-produced – sounding freer, looser and more magnificent than ever. ... A band who’ve clearly lost none of their miraculous touch with their sources, who incredibly seem to have an entirely new lease of life. [Mar 2023, p.60]

While the lack of fixed personnel gives the album a gloriously freewheeling mixtape feel, Remy’s lyrics and persona in these songs, – particularly the wondrous title track and the miraculous “Tux” – demonstrate both a sleep deprived hunger for changes of spiritual and musical trajectory – sometimes within a single song – but also a recurrent return to elemental, physical needs, and the sheer lambent wonder of the grooves and hooks always keeps you rapt. [Mar 2023, p.60]

Oh Me Oh My is at its strongest when exhibiting an everyman quality comparable to that of his street level sculptures. [Mar 2023, p.52]

Smith and Unthank magnetise throughout with their combined vocals, even on unaccompanied songs such as “Captain Bover” (the story of Tyneside press gangs), melodically entwined, but contrasting soft and rugged. [Feb 2023, p.59]

Pole aka Stefan Betke is actually making the best music of his life right now. ... Tempus is mesmeric and that leaves space for Betke’s amazing painterly hand to weave magic. [Feb 2023, p.54]

Despite the obvious post-production touches and curation, the outtakes from 20 minute studio improv sessions featured across the four pieces feel authentically extemporaneous and evolve organically, akin to a late night jam between friends. ... “Bloodstream” provides the stunning album with a fittingly grandiose ending by digging into a psalm-like recital full of solemn organ, voluminous textures, invigorating fanfares and rumbling spectral melodies. [Feb 2023, p.52]

Such durational piece, composed from several instruments, recall Phill Niblock, but Malone’s album is softer, more atmospheric, even melancholic. Does Spring Hide Its Joy is material for deep listening, and its considerable length alone is a radical statement in times of fragmented attention. [Feb 2023, p.52]

Raven is full of powerful earworms that mobilise every inch of soul and flesh. [Feb 2023, p.52]

Cale remakes Nico’s trademark harmonium sound using electronics, imagining a future or celestial version of her. The effect is both moving and ghostly – a highlight of this typically imaginative album. [Feb 2023, p.46]

While their tonal depths speak to undiscovered worlds, they’re grounded by the sound of Sakamoto’s breath, audible on every piano track. The palpable humanity is moving, and Sakamoto’s ease with melodic phrasing remains astonishing. ... Would these stark, simple pieces be as moving and filled with meaning for newcomers to his work? Perhaps not, but becoming an understanding receiver of work is one of the great privileges of longtime listening. [Feb 2023, p.45]

It collates her various sides and strengths into the most complete and resonant recording of her career. [Feb 2023, p.44]

The large number of guest rappers (seven in all) makes the album sound like the voice of a rage-filled community rather than just one person’s desperate cries, magnifying its impact. [Feb 2023, p.44]

A definite return to form, Shook is the sound of a serious group equipped with the gravitas and shades of expression to carry their many ideas. [Feb 2023, p.44]

Like her otherwise innovative Couldn’t Wait To Tell You, the 41 minute album has its inevitable longueurs (the abstract “Snowing!”). Otherwise it moves along with purpose and confidence. [Apr 2023, p.56]

Paste is Moin at their strongest, at once familiar and strangely new. [Dec 2022, p.57]

To these ears at least, Rundgren’s finest since 2008’s Arena. [Jan 2023, p.75]

Hutchings is eloquent on flute, Mthunzi Mvubu plays searing alto, while Muhammad Dawjee (tenor saxophone) and Malcolm Jiyane (trombone) have inexhaustible drive. [Jan 2023, p.62]

Bachman probably spent more of Almanac Behind’s production time processing sounds than strumming strings. [Jan 2023, p.61]

Big Joanie have developed immeasurably since their debut and it’s a joy to see them, if not quite reaching their full potential, then imparting a genuine sense of what that fulfillment might entail. [Jan 2023, p.62]

The Elephant Man’s Bones is no disappointment – the factors that have cultivated reverence are displayed in full force, with Marciano’s pen game as sharp as ever and The Alchemist’s production showing no sign of peaking. [Jan 2023, p.68]

Richard may not be the most distinctive lyricist, yet she still leaves a strong impression. Her uniquely hazy voice and the way she adds unusual trills to her stanzas means that the listener is always aware of her presence. [Jan 2023, p.70]

Fans of retro-styled chamber pop should find the vibes here to be exquisite. That said, Mering cleverly balances the sumptuousness with a lyrical orientation that taps into a universal melancholy, cutting through the fog of nostalgia with a sober, contemporary sensibility. [Jan 2023, p.74]

Plaid are back with another album of music that twists geometric runs through nostalgic synth textures into minor key shifts like dimension folds gone wrong. [Jan 2023, p.77]

Throughout the album Nas sounds engaged, and his choices are unbeholden to the whims of the market. [Jan 2023, p.78]

Tyondai Braxton’s own Telekinesis is a symphonic work that sounds like a lost sci-fi film soundtrack. It has the clustered, hovering awe of György Ligeti’s Atmosphères and the eerie arpeggiated angles of Herrmann soundtracks like Vertigo and The Day The Earth Stood Still. [Dec 2022, p.50]

Perpetual Now has tangential relationships to house, techno, dub, ambient and psychedelic minimalism, but manages to plot a coherent and personal path between them all, with each of its four long tracks given space to breathe and expand. [Dec 2022, p.66]

New listeners may be drawn by these tributes, to experience something far more compelling, still flowing from the source. [Dec 2022, p.72]

There is a genuine synergy here. Khruangbin have crafted oneiric Manding inflected backdrops as though they have found what they were looking for all along, and Touré settles into them like he’s just got home. [Dec 2022, p.67]