Back catalogue: Indie/Alternative

Review: If you're unfamiliar with Dr Robert, we recommend checking out The Blow Monkeys. Robert Howard, as he's credited, formed the iconic new wave and 'sophisti-pop' group in 1981 and his piano keys, bass notes, guitar melodies, vocals and words define the band's sizeable back catalogue. Matt Deighton, meanwhile, might mean Mother Earth, Bill Fay, or Paul Weller to some listeners. He's been involved with them all. Here, the esteemed UK musicians run into one another on Last Night From Glasgow, a treasure of a patron-funded, not-for-profit label out of Scotland's biggest city. It couldn't be a more credible and thoughtful combination. Musically, the result packs crazy levels of musicality, taking a lead from pop, soft, folk and psyche rock to produce a sound which moves between soaring to understated grandeur to deceptively complex and overtly intimate.

Review: Dr. Robert of British 80s pop hitmakers The Blow Monkeys and British folk icon Matt Deighton (Mother Earth, Bill Fay, Paul Weller) have formed a new duo and release their album on the not-for-profit Last Night From Glasgow label. Their respective histories - writing really accomplished pop songs and performing in bands with some of the best artists in the history of rock n' roll - raise expectations, but they absolutely smash them. The title-track is a beautiful marriage of pastoral psych folk and glam rock, where there's melodies to spare and affecting, deeply soulful timbres at every turn.

Review: Mannequin Pussy's second LP Romantic was a watershed wilding for the Philly hardcore punks. In 2016, as the aches and anguishes of the first quarter-century were increasingly felt, this deceptively billed "indie rock" band would proportionally increase the very same trash-humping snarl that could be heard in their sound as early on as 2012. A critical breakthrough despite years in the game, Romantic sounded to burn the tired institutional flag of romance, making way for a more vital, tumultuous, unwieldy love, not anchored in prescription: peak punk climaxes verge on post-rock limit states, where jangle pop moments fuse murderously with grimacing punk (just listen to 'Denial' for the best case of this).

Review: Following on from two previous EPs here in 2019 and 2022, Peter Matson now serves up a wonderful full-length on the storied Bastard Jazz. Hotel PM is a psychedelic exploration of disco and modern electronica from the Brooklyn-based musician and co-leader of Underground System. His signature attention to detail, songwriting and world-class musicianship all shine through next to collaborations with the likes of Pahua, Kendra Morris, Toribio, Phenomenal Handclap Band, Sly5thAve and members of The Rapture, Ibibio Sound Machine and Poolside. Between them, they delve into themes of time, memory and disenchantment with modern technology with a mix of lush strings, tight brass and analogue synth basslines. It's a journey of dance floor delight and more introspective moments with plenty of catchy hooks and retro-future charms.

Review: The trailblazing godfather of grunge, Buzz Osborne, is the sole constant member of Melvins, but he's not burned his bridges. He's invited back original drummer Mike Dillard (with who he founded the band in 1983), along with Void Maines and Ni Maîtres, for the third Melvins 1983 album, the previous two being Tres Cabrones (2013) and Working With God (2021). They're on the form of their life with the new album; it is ferocious and exhilarating. A standout is the lead single 'Thunderball', which is a celebration of the drums. You can hear Dillard hitting his snare with unparalleled force and nailing countless fills. Meanwhile, Osborne's melodic and heavy guitar playing strikes a perfect balance. Vocally, Osborne has the highest level of conviction; he truly belies his years. And with Black Sabbath calling it a day very soon, we need Melvins 1983 more than ever.

Review: Melvins' back catalogue is so strong that they could make a living just re-releasing the hell out of it. But Melvins' Buzz Osborne is a true punk and has such an unrelenting passion for music that they will never stop. The good thing is that he is under no illusions that he's great... Melvins in 2025 sound absolutely incredible, like Black Sabbath good. The line-up for this album takes things back to 1983 as the band's original drummer Mike Dillard makes a relatively rare appearance. It's only the third album he's made with Buzz Osborne, but absolutely is it gold when it happens. Dillard famously played in a short-lived pre Nirvana group with Kurt Cobain called Fecal Matter and there's certainly parallels to Nirvana's frantic approach to drums on this album. In terms of the rest of the music it's tuneful in a heavy way and it's that balance between the two that was the cornerstone of grunge and you can hear how Melvins became such a prevalent influence, playing a role in shaping the sound of Nirvana, Soundgarden and countless others.

Review: One of the most beautifully constructed and hugely acclaimed albums that was first released in the late 1990's is reissued here and is a reminder of a magnificent selection of music by Mercury Rev that the listener can never tire of. From the sweeping orchestral opening track Holes all the way through to the bouncing Delta Sun Bottleneck Stomp this album provides songs the listener will fall in love with one by one and never turn their backs on. Following on from the brilliant shambolic early releases by the band, Deserter's Songs was made by the band as a swan song of sorts. They were a chaotic outfit at the time with a changing and insecure line-up that finally managed to settle themselves down after the release of this and to end up with a new beginning and an existence that still remains today. Hints of jazz, folk and 60s psychedelia can be found hidden modestly within these melancholic tracks that have influences that can commonly be heard in a lot of albums other bands have released since this first came to the public's attention. Sweet, sad and tender vocals provided by founder member Jonathan Donahue make this an easy listening lovable album that deserves to be in everyone's collection and it's one that once there is guaranteed remain for years to come.
Produced by original bass player and founding member Dave Fridmann this album was recorded around the same time and in the same building as The Flaming Lips legendary Soft Bulletin album (also produced by Fridmann) and albeit a slightly different sounding album to Deserters Songs marks that period of time in The Catskill Mountains (100 miles NW of New York) as one of the most musically rewarding moments of time during the 1990's.
Goddess on a Highway was first conceived by front man Jonathan Donahue almost a decade earlier whilst he was a member of The Flaming Lips and the song was resurrected from an early demo he dug up. The songs' chorus of 'I know...it ain't gonna last' was probably the only thing they got wrong with this masterpiece. This album sounds just as fresh as it did three decades ago. It's been said that Deserters Songs could be one of the best albums ever made. Who are we to argue?

Review: Brilliantly described as a label outfit specialising in "N/Ambient", A Strangely Isolated Place welcome the very next LP from equally brilliant music production singularity Monoparts. Trip hop, dubstep and ambient collide on the Polish duo's spiffing debut, which suffered a brief period of production hell and remained accursedly unreleased for years. With Olga Wojciechowska (Scanner, Infinite Distances) on vocals and Tomasz Walkiewicz on production, the pair make an earthbound, rustic statement here, likening the record to the process of "becoming one with the earth itself - feeling the rawness of the wood, tasting the earth in your mouth, and sensing the presence of ancient spirits." As of a manic vision, forest eidola and erl-kings do indeed seem to appear as we play back the opener 'Abandoned Woods', with its fantasy birdsong and lullabying bell sounds scored over pinball drums. 'Invisible Body' murkifies the vibe with filtered snares and breathwork vocals, while latter-record treats such as 'My Reality' and 'Scattered Parts' hark back to an organic era in ambient dubstep, where producers like Jan Amit and Asa ruled the roost as foregrounders of foley sounds for use as drums.

Review: The long-awaited follow up to 2018's Delta, London indie-folk megastars Mumford & Sons return after a seven-year gap (their longest between releases yet) to chart a course back to their original path. Titled Rushmere after a pond located at Wimbledon Common in London, where the band was first formed and music was conceived, their fifth LP marks their first as a trio, following the departure of Winston Marshall in 2021 (who for some bizarre reason opted to allow his politics to prioritise his success and now makes appearances on Fox News). Where the members had gone to lengths previously to shy away from their folk-pop stylings in search of a "new sound", here it's evident that Marcus Mumford and his cohorts have finally become comfortable with their position within the modern music landscape, dusting off the obligatory banjo for the triumphantly anthemic title-track, while the melancholic 'Where It Belongs' utilises weaving, minimalist acoustic melodies and deeply affecting vocal harmonies to conjure a sense of quiet acceptance. In short, this is the most Mumford & Sons the troupe have sounded since their acclaimed 2009 debut Sigh No More.

Review: The Murder Capital sit at the forefront of a new wave of indie that's sprung up out of the Dublin scene after Gilla Band smashed the door down. The band are no longer Dublin-based, but spread out across Ireland, London and Berlin. They grouped together, though, for the recording of their third album in LA, steered by wise Grammy-winning producer John Congleton. The album has this frenetic sensibility running through it and it's what makes them such a powerhouse live act. 'The Fall' is guttural, raw, widescreen and teeming with ambition; 'Words Lost Meaning' is dirtier and wouldn't be amiss in The Kills' set with its sulky, fuzz-laden bass riff offering plenty of swagger. While 'Can't Pretend To Know' is more Nine Inch Nails with noisy tremolo picking on the guitar offering a grandiose backdrop for the charismatic lead vocal. They've leant into their mainstream aspirations here and sound ready to take on the world.

Review: There's something refreshing about an album press release that goes out of its way to tell you a band has been around for 25 years, a quarter century no less, building a significant cult following in that time, but have also gone out of their way to sustain "all the curiosity and creative hunger of their very earliest days." So - hats off to Louisville, Kentucky five-piece, My Morning Jacket. The band's first album in four years is their most refined and regal in sound, but that needs to be understood in wider context. My Morning Jacket are known for heavy rock out shows, infused with blues, rockabilly, stoner, sludge metal and Americana. Raw is what they do, and the sense of them just turning up at the studio and getting down and dirty to record another stunner is alive and well here. They're just not afraid to flash a little production spit and polish in the process.