Cox’s naked sensitivity and inability to filter himself have been constants through the band’s career; on Fading Frontier, they ensure Deerhunter’s most accessible songs yet are also their most affecting.
It’s this powerful nostalgia for their original selves ... that makes Anthems For Doomed Youth better than it really ought to be, as if the last decade hadn’t happened.
This portrait of the artist might be a gloomy, oppressive one but it’s grimly fascinating nevertheless.
Star Wars confirms that Wilco now fully own a unique American noise wherein nothing is wholly traditional or wholly experimental.
It’s when everything begins to fan out like a peacock’s tail at the height of the courting season that you’re reminded just why Newsom is a 21st century oneoff.
For a collection with an eye on the setting sun and the slow decline, it’s a fine late flowering. If they’ve made it, finally, to the end, there’s nothing to regret here.
The singer’s reappearance in the post-Ferguson climate feels like nothing less than a superhero donning his cape. Black Messiah is an exquisite realisation of what D’Angelo does best.
A tender, affecting album that, through its jumble of religious allusions, nature imagery, classical references, half-remembered visions and overwhelming sense of loss, has a simple message.
To Pimp A Butterfly attempts to the tackle the issues of the day without recourse to blunt, shallow sloganeering.