Antidepressants plugs into similar post-punk energies – Killing Joke, The Chameleons, The Cure – but as the PiL-like title track’s untethered jolt and jeer shows, Suede’s emotional safety catches and musical circuit breakers are very much off. Through a background chatter of mechanised voices, Brett Anderson cuts through sharper and stranger than ever, rallying damaged troops on Broken Music For Broken People, seeking connection on the euphoric fugue of Dancing With The Europeans, facing down the void on Life Is Endless, Life Is A Moment.

“You will never be blithe and careless,” he states on Disintegrate’s skull-shaped call-to-arms, but this defiant, death-defying record – as much joyride as memento mori – is the glorious reward.

(Mojo)

In the case of Adult Romantix, this simultaneously highlights frontwoman Samira Winter’s Brazilian background and brings listeners into the band’s world. Winter uses language as a tool to intimately connect with their listeners without ever having met them. Not only that, but like most other things hidden underneath Adult Romantix’s surface, the language barrier pushes listeners to further engage with the music, fighting against passive listening.

It doesn’t take much to tell that this isn’t the band’s first album. As their fifth release in ten years, Adult Romantix progresses with the suave confidence that can only be earned, not imitated. Winter moves from childlike yearning to fully bloomed adoration and ends with heartbroken acceptance, taking the listener on a skillfully crafted journey well worth the 45-minute playtime.

(mxdwn)

Automatic feels like Jim Bob at his story-telling best, ‘Balloon Release For Arthur’ is exactly the tale of what you think it would be, but despite the usually troubling subject matters, there’s a lightness of touch, almost lounge-like at times, the reflective rock vibe of his band allowing the space for the songs to really breathe. (…)

He’s not lost his immaculate turn of phrase either, “Wars don’t end baby, like boybands they just go on hiatus.”, and on the glorious, almost 6-minute centrepiece Frank Bought A Drone, “If your children are lost, Frank probably knows where they are/Throwing stones at a mosque, setting fire to a car.” The sparse ‘Buckaroo‘ is full of fear but that end-of-the-world fug is superseded by the closer, which features duetting vocals from guitarist Jen Macro, the lovely ‘Our Forever Home’.

(God Is In The TV)

Stick is equally as bleak in subject matter, but easier to shake your head to whilst dreading the future. (…)

The second of the albums, with its tempo increase, is probably the one that people will compare alongside his earliest Carter USM work, and there’s hints of where songs would fit into the back catalogue, the juddering, guitar-based love-story of ‘Lovers Rock’ is as close to a 30-Something track but only in a way that it serves to remind that no-one writes them like this anymore.

The fierceness reaches a peak on the magnificently grungy, feedback-laden chorus on ‘Walk The Dog Start A War’ and ‘The Last Night Of The Tour’, before another catchy closer, in the form of the mellower ‘There’s Not Enough Space In The Hall’.

(God Is In The TV)

Zusammen mit ihrem Partner, dem Produzenten Oli Deakin, entstand dieses Werk in einer Zeit persönlicher Turbulenzen – und zwar anstelle einer angedachten Auszeit zur Re-Evaluierung, die aufgrund einiger Schicksalsschläge und persönlicher Verluste indes nicht zustande kam. Das verleiht den Songs dann jene Dringlichkeit, die CMAT insbesondere auch auf der Bühne mit Verve und Inbrunst auslebt. Tatsächlich gelingt es CMAT und Deakin aber bei dieser Produktion, diese Art von systemimmanenter Energie auch im Studio einzufangen. Das auch deshalb, weil sich CMAT songwriterisch keinem musikalischen Sophismus hingibt, sondern konsequent und ohne Umschweife die Extreme umarmt. Das reicht dann vom wirklich hemmungslosen, persönlich gefärbten Glam- bzw. Chamber-Pop-Songs wie z.B. dem Titeltrack, „Take A Sexy Picture Of Me“ oder „Running / Planning“ über die bereits erwähnten „Euro-Country“-Tracks bis hin zu fast schon abstrakten Konzept-Stücken mit eigenartigen Referenzen wie „Billy Byrne From Ballybrack, The Leader Of The Pigeon Convoy“, „The Jamie Oliver Petrol Station“ oder dem abschließenden „Janis Joplining“.

(Gästeliste)

There is no mistaking that ‘Hickey’ is Royel Otis at their most self-assured. Their time playing live over the past two years has allowed them to find the recipe for building back-to-back summer anthems, guaranteed to bring a feel-good vibe to any occasion. And while there is an admirable quality to focusing solely on their biggest strengths and bringing their laid-back Aussie charm to the forefront, we can’t help but question if slightly more hunger to push the boundaries would add a greater sense of depth to an otherwise satisfying album.

(NME)