Nick Mee

It’s largely set to glassily- produced bubblegum rock that lacks the raw punch of Honeyblood’s earlier material but isn’t shy of brash pop-punk hooks.

Like many of the veteran African artists recently uncovered for wider delectation, Kamal Keila gives good back-story.

Lindsay's graceful compositions feature spacious layers of intimate electronica and precise instrumentation – plucked, blown and sequenced...

But would temperance curb the creative dynamic of a quartet who shared more with their city's late-Seventies scenesters than just a preference for hedonism over hygiene? Happily not.

It only took the subtlest gestures from Oumou Sangaré to completely transform the vibe at her Roundhouse show last week.

From the nimble drumming to the rich layers of strings, no semiquaver goes unexamined.

A set of adept psychedelia, a miasma of swirling trance drawn from European space rock, North African funk and South Asian ragas.

Typically filed under folk, Jesca Hoop bends the parameters of classification.

Since teaming up with Tectonic label head and dubstep maestro Rob Ellis, aka Pinch, Sherwood’s sonic nonconformity seems as determined as ever

Time passed quickly as Orchestra Baobab played for nigh on 100 minutes.

It’s a complex album, an instrumental one that brings new meaning to suffering for one’s art.

Lou Rhodes' fourth album reminds us of humanity’s incessant taste for the tragic, even among all this love

Beverly’s middleweight indie-pop packs an impact you just didn’t see coming

Its psychedelic electronica meets tribal-jazz hypnotics again owning the room.

Brutal techno beats, fleeting chordal swells and Karl Hyde’s agitated torrent-of-consciousness remains a loose template for Underworld’s best work into their seventh album

An addictively complex blend of syncopated sine-waves and wordless Krautrock rhythm.

New West Records - February 26thAside from the introspective confessionals of the early Seventies West Coast folkies, has any musical generation sounded so glum?...

Synth-heavy haze enveloping songs reliant on the extent to which Deheza’s swooping melodies haunt your daydreams

The duo’s first album as eschews the pleasure-principled escapism of the Nineties ambient house scene.

Twenty years after their heyday and Skunk Anansie are still standing apart, seemingly a little out of their time.

Discordant arpeggios and a fine slackened beat help to unspool Fufanu’s mechanised modus operandi, and the band sound more engaging for it