Back catalogue: Indie/Alternative

Review: Setting the stage for their as-of-yet untitled sophomore full-length, Leeds based indie darlings Yard Act have unveiled their eight-minute opus-like standalone single The Trenchcoat Museum. Channeling a new wave promiscuity and frenetic synth-laden playfulness into their pre-established sound, while tip-toeing a fine line between scathing self-analysis and reliably humourous absurdity, the piece serves as an indicator of their current sonic trajectory, while showcasing an introspective look at their sudden meteoric rise over the past few years. Complete with an accompanying Black Mirror-esque music video directed by James Slater, and a B-side flip remix by the incomparable Arthur Baker, anticipation is rife for where the band are leading their myriad of avid followers. Serving as both an extension of the narrative set in place by last year's exceptional debut LP The Overload, and a bridging point to their next aesthetic era, this new single offers newcomers a welcome chance to play catch up before the mayhem commences all over again.

Review: This new compilation by the (literally) grassroots Spanish label Soil pays tribute to the late incipient goth band Bauhaus - known for their volatile performances, blackened and deathly sound, and later controversial antics. Aiming to highlight the band's admixture of glam with goth, irreverent demeanour, and strange fusions of dub, regional music and post-punk, artists and groups such as Years Of Denial, Selfishadows and Radikal Kuss deliver six curveball takes on Bauhaus' great songs, from 'All We Ever Wanted' to the unmatchable 'Dark Entries'.

Review: Sean Bowie is back with another ode to the tortured, damned, and damned good. The Florida-born enfant terrible of US alt-rock can barely put a foot wrong in our eyes, whether that's the post-chillwave of Teams, the moniker he was recording under in the early-2010s, or the Tumor releases. This is the place where Death In Vegas fans come to be reassured it's not quite over yet.

The Asymptotical World, not to be confused with The Asymptomatic World, is a case in point. This is punk, if punk decided to dive into bed with electroclash and they had a baby that wasn't really what anyone expected. It's sludgy, scummy, guitar-driven chaotic noise that occasionally dissipates into white mayhem, all the while maintaining not just its sense of self, but an underlying feeling you're two seconds from a rave while in the moshpit.