There are many more moments of magic on this triumphant third album. Among them, The Girl is Gone proves Mystery Jets can do melancholy in as confident a manner as they do happiness.

While much here can be summarised as more of the same, when Lennox's natural quality control operates at such an admirable standard, that's precisely why Tomboy is such a chilled-out triumph.

At their most stripped-back, Woods have always been arresting – but here they realize some of their most beautiful work yet.

For those Manics fans whose bearing on the band is centred by a Britpop firmament, rather than The Holy Bible, this record will prove a joy. It's jolly, but jolly good.

Ben Chasny's solo venture continues to tackle folk as if the 1970s never ended.

It's not an album for those with short attention spans but, in a world of lightweights, Tabor's a colossus and this is one of her finest hours.

In producing a focussed follow-up that completely transcends its litigious backstory, Chairlift have summoned a watertight case for the defence with Something.

This is an album that delivers more and more with every listen, showcasing an artist maturing with grace and poise.

This album is paced like a perfect DJ set--it reads the listener with incredible insight, combining the immediate and familiar with intense passages of warm-up, breaking to allow for moments of blank space and reflection.

The result is louche and intoxicating.

Lekman has always had a neat turn of phrase, whether barbed, droll or plainly silly. Again, there's [sic] plenty of them here.

The record is certainly denser and more difficult to find an entry point into than either of its predecessors; but this is not remotely to say that their label made the right the decision. After several listens, a handful of stone-cold, diamond-hard gems present themselves from of a scree of electronic beats and stentorian rapping/shouting.

A brief, brilliant record that leaves you panting, Body Talk, Part 2 is the latest evidence that Robyn is probably the best, most versatile pop star currently at work.

Best Coast's music wishes for that innocence – for when a pop song could sum up your whole torment in three perfect minutes, before your heart truly gets broken that first time – and successfully evokes it with Crazy for You's immediate classic-pop hits.

Purity Ring have pulled off the feat of producing one of the year's most arresting debuts – a Grimm Tales for the 2010s, shrouded in the illusory threads of contemporary club music – while sounding like no-one else but themselves.

While some of this album is beautiful and delicate, at other times its vocal and musical honey smothers the intimacy of the lyrics.

Several perfectly agreeable songs are unexpectedly hijacked by a cacophonous onslaught of instruments, with Finnish percussionist Samuli Kosminen setting the furious pace.

Bluegrass superstar's new album is a fine addition to her impressive catalogue.

She's shining bright and crying out to be taken on as Britain's new favourite pop star – and if this album is anything to go by, it looks like the stage is set.

Confess is an easy record to listen to and love.

The title-track is a prime example of the album's dominant pace: downbeat and sluggish.

It sounds as if it's the work of human trial and error, rather than a series of computer-coded phrases and melodies, and it's this fragility that really has it standing out as the work of a band hitting its peak.

On We Don't Even Live Here he brings lyrical grit, tightly leashed rage and a general disregard for genre boundaries.

Vanishing Point proves the quartet is still a thrilling proposition, in love with the simplicity of mayhem and volume.

By maintaining a ferocious appetite for streaming across territory few electronic musicians possess even a perception of, Autechre continue to test themselves and listeners alike with stunningly intricate results.

Tennis may have sailed a great distance to bring about the inspiration for Cape Dory, but a similarly epic voyage of composition would have yielded far better results here. As it stands, it's remarkably unremarkable.

Comprising eight tracks and running to just over half-an-hour, it's a crucible of stark arrangements, contemplative moods and subtle hooks; never earth-shattering yet consistently, discreetly affecting.

A refreshing, unusual and diverting first record from two new talents, then, and one to recommend for jaded electro and indie fans who felt the New York scene had gone as far as it could with art-skronk.