While the world waits for the Liam and Noel reunion, Beady Eye’s second long player actually comes with a strong recommendation of being rather good. Sure, there are still one or two nods towards Liam Gallagher’s former band, coupled with some grating rhyming by numbers lyrics, but at least this time around Beady Eye has managed to step off the Oasis carousel for the majority of the ride. The noticeable difference is a greater use of restraint best heard on the brooding ‘Soul Love’ and beautiful delicacy of ‘Start Anew’ that eventually soars into orbit and recalls guitarist Andy Bell’s former cohorts. ‘Second Bite of The Apple’ could be a personal note to self or merely noting the cynicism of the music press with Liam having his feet tickled by the latest edition of the NME. Elsewhere, ‘Soon Come Tomorrow’ meanders into an enclosed area unable to find the exit due to its lack of direction only to be rescued by the more lively ‘I’m Just Saying’ and experimental duo of ‘Don’t Bother Me’ and ‘Shine A Light’. It seems the sibling rivalry looks set to run another course as Beady Eye have reinvigorated themselves and raised the bar somewhat.

Palm Bay’s Gillian Carter is really on the brink of subsiding into a state of nothingness with the clues being hidden in such lonely vessels as ‘Waking Up (Lost Ships)’ and appropriately titled ‘I’ve Been Forgotten And So Have You’. There is time for reflection, despite facing the inevitable, when the brakes are applied during ‘Recently’ whereas ‘Time (All That Is Left Is Fading)’ suggests a sense of humour with the band enjoying their last supper together before the diminishing light finally fades. It is left, however, to the penultimate, and almost title track, ‘Sinking With The Ships’ to really tower over the preceding content as it’s an absolute colossus of a song ending in a wafer thin line of feedback and fading pulse of accompanying drumbeat. Bleak yet utterly compelling, ‘Lost Ships Sinking With The Sunset’ signals out Gillian Carter as one of the serious contenders in their field.

Despite its misleading imagery that will no doubt have the rockabilly fraternity salivating in droves, Sydney based producer and songwriter Ilias has constructed an album’s worth of material best suited to the genre of indie. The end result is ‘Somewhere In Time’ which lives up to its moniker as the whole album gives the impression of fleeting memories rather than detailing the intricate parts of a succession of broken relationships. Such emotions are given credence due to the dreamscape atmosphere wafting through nearly each and every song from the opening hazy shimmer of ‘Never Utter The Word Never’ to the delicate strumming and texture running through ‘One Of A Kind’. ‘This Life’ provides a bit more meat on the bones in terms of the central protagonist only to head straight into the same cryptic tunnel once more with  ‘Lonely’ despite a more robust tempo. Clearly one to not give too much away, Ilias has conjured up an album that is beautiful in its execution, recalling elements of Radiohead, Travis and even more encouragingly the sparseness of a latter-day Talk Talk, and remains equally beguiling in terms of its scant narratives.

Far from being a laugh a minute as songs muse over fears of dying and the curiosities associated with this very subject matter, Old Gray release ‘An Autobiography’, their debut album on Dog Knights Productions. The gradual encroachment of ‘Wolves’ with its delicate strumming and choir-esque vocals literally sensing the doom-laden content encircling before a Who-esque guitar jangle reminiscent of ‘Pinball Wizard’ provides a temporary lull before collapsing into a heap of gut wrenching emotions, marks the start of this full-length album in compelling style. The foreboding ‘Coventry’ (not about that one, although…) is full of self-loathing and hanging by the barest of threads only to be surpassed in the emotion stakes with the desperate escapism of ‘The Graduate’. Where ‘An Autobiography’ differs from several of its contemporaries’ efforts, however, is the scope and vision given to songs ‘Show Me How You Self-Destruct’, which allows for a differing tempo and instrumentation as does the enthralling structure of ‘I Still Think About Who I Was Last Summer’ giving the impression that Old Gray will be confronted without difficulties when it comes to developing their sound for album number two.

Spilling forth in glorious fashion, London-based three-piece Stooshe reveal their debut album to be something of considerable depth, setting it high above sea level of the overpopulated run-of-the-mill formula of girl bands. ‘London With The Lights On’ is anything but formulaic as Stooshe open up their world in a sassy ‘Supremes-esque ‘Slip’ and complimented with the quasi-Motown sounding ‘Love Me’, complete with spoken worded exchanges between band members and in the process revealing their sense of humour in the broadest of London accents. The knockout blow arrives, however, with the sublime ‘Black Heart’ showing the girls can play it straight and oh boy, what a song! At your own peril, avoid prejudging Stooshe on face value as you will leave severely empty-handed because ‘London With The Lights On’ is a glorious treasure-trove of stunningly good songs.

By some transcontinental journey, Maia Hirasawa’s ‘What I Saw’ landed in the lap of FLW and what a stroke of good fortune that was due to being completely dumbfounded by the quality of the eleven glorious indie electropop and ballad-esque ditties on display. Hooked from the beginning with the irresistible emotional pull of ‘You’ that lives long in the memory even after the events of the unreciprocated love has fizzled out, Maia Hirasawa has a knack of constructing infectious melodies whether shifting tempo with the more upbeat ‘Lights Out’ or coming back down again with the sparse offerings of ‘Still Think Of It’. There is definitely talent at work here, and ‘What I Saw’ is one of those rare unexpected finds that will still have a place in your heart in some years to come.