While Hamburg Demonstrations doesn’t have Doherty retiring his military guards jacket, there’s definitely a greater helping of wholesome maturity to be found in this patchworked and homey collection of ballads both old and new.

This whole album pulses with the emotivity of a cybernetic rainforest.

Whilst it could be easy to turn up your nose to the fact the instrumentals may be relatively straightforward, the magic of The So So Glos truly lies in their witty lyricism.

Daniel Avery’s DJ-Kicks does nothing ground breaking and for a listener familiar with his productions and sets, will excite only for the new material it contains.

An album free from the shackles of a major label and its consequential rampant commercialism was always going to produce something that didn’t immediately pander to its keg fuelled audience. The surprise is just how well deadmau5 pulls it off.

When Gambino plays it straight he sounds majestic.

Nouvelle Vague have created an album telling tales weaving in and out of the beautifully spoken French word and the English. Regardless of whether you understand what is being sung, easy on the ear and quirky sounds are enough to entice any listener.

She embraces their words, often of death and reminiscence on youth, as if they’d come from deep within herself. It is, after 38 years, a fine reminder of her vital place in British musical tradition, as the essential elder stateswoman of folk.

It may showcase a cleaner sound, both in lyrical content and production, but its value for money at eighteen tracks comes at the cost of coherence.

If it’s a stopgap between albums, so be it, but I’d wager Blue And Lonesome will stand out as more honest, more rousing and more representative of The Rolling Stones as septuagenarians than anything that might follow.

‘Broke Me In Two’, which you can already find online, is a good place to start if you’re looking for a sampler. Overall though, it’s a case of ‘good to have you back Joan’, and ‘next time, let’s have a bit more you and little less Lazar Davis’.

What works on Woman truly does with aplomb, but it arguably stands as the group’s least unique effort, and with some of that old punk snarl now removed perhaps they’ve lost some of that addictive danger.

This is the kind of record that inspires new listeners to explore unfamiliar sounds and musical histories; the kind of record that bodes very well for the future of British jazz.

Unfocused, inconsistent and underwhelming, The Heavy Entertainment Show is homogenised pop at its most stupefying.

It’s an ambitious and sprawling work that tackles some big topics, but it’s not fit to hold a candle to the likes of ‘Lemonade’, ‘Blonde’ and ‘A Seat At The Table’, all of which have furthered the cause of confessional R&B this year, and have done so while being resolutely down-tempo.

Beginning and ending on a high note, Hardwired miraculously leaves the listener hungry for more, following an all-out binge on some of Metallica’s strongest work since 1991.

Scratchy, inchoate electronics, heavy, almost-metal power gestures and subtle violin all conspire at different points to make this a beguiling artistic protest of an album, and singularly one of the most considered and thought-provoking records of 2016.

Calling this 'No Waves' suggests a symbolic sympatico bond between the duo, best evidenced by the graceful way that Gordon and Nace hone in on controlling this beautiful racket with apparent ease.

Despite the addition of new blood like Anderson .Paak on ‘Movin Backwards’ and Kendrick on ‘Conrad Tokyo’, the overall production, overseen by master cutter Ali Shaeed Muhammed, is unfiltered, choppy and distinctly reminiscent of the original Tribe sound.

Keys fails to emulate these peers and instead only succeeds in certain apt production choices and the partial development of her earlier sound. She becomes yet another voice unable to deliver its message.

The album can become at times feel too self-involved and unsettled, in regards to the fluidity of the tracks and the thorough examination of emotions, which at time has the tendency to sound a little forced.

Welcome To Sideways sits comfortably amongst older material, but is more regressive than revolutionary.

Romare sets out to bring in elements of his distinct sound from across his career always combining it with something fresh and invigorating. The fact that all of these elements come together into such an approachable and restrained album is quite impressive.

It’s refreshing to hear something different and altogether more interesting from a slighter older but no less exciting name.

Clocking in at 56 minutes, Primitives doesn’t overstay its welcome by overreaching yet it shows that Bayonne has more tricks up his sleeve, which he should easily be able to demonstrate in his live shows.

No one has travelled further than the band themselves. Yet it’s a journey worth savouring, with the renewed duo seemingly capable of soaking up all that life can throw at them.

Rather than risk nestling ever-deeper into their cushy role as purveyors of twee-approved, candied indie-rock, The Radio Dept. have opted for a collection of songs that is as decidedly unapologetic as it is cemented in political sludge.

Joanne is certainly not the all-conquering opus it was intended to be and will prove divisive, but it remains a daring and exciting record, delivered from one of modern pop’s most unique and singular voices.

Although this album does replicate almost everything they’ve created it has that sense of maturity about it, showing that over the sixteen years they’ve moved on from their rebellious teen stage.

Sleigh Bells must be applauded for their experimentation on Jessica Rabbit, and it has provided riches, but as with earlier releases, the main weakness is a lack of emotional scope and pace over a course of an entire album.

Lady Wood proves Tove Lo is one of the more interesting characters in what is often a personality-less genre, but unfortunately, her unique perspective is diluted by fairly humdrum electro-pop production.

It’s an accomplished if somewhat safe set of songs; a JoJo on the cusp of finding her range.

Ultimately Soft Hair is the sound of two musicians filling in each other’s blanks while only seeing the best in each other. When it works, it’s captivating.

Yes Lawd! is a feel-good album that isn't afraid to take a step back and reflect. NxWorries brilliantly capture the sense of being carried by the whirlwind of success--disorientated and bewildered but enjoying the ride regardless.

A welcome reminder that Lambchop are just as vital as they’ve ever been.

The criss-crossing sounds better than ever, and is everything you’d want from a FaltyDL opus.

For the most of Friends, though, this is White Lies doing what they do best. There are huge choruses, soaring, ethereal melodies and that distinctively glistening ‘80s production. However, you suspect their formula may need to be tweaked substantially if the band are to avoid self-parody or burning out in the future.

It’s one that sees TOY testing the water for the future blueprint of their music, which seems only to be building on its successes.

You can't help but feel that the teasing at euphoria on Slow Knife would be a little less frustrating if the thing were allowed to crescendo further, and for some of that drumwork to be incorporated accordingly.

Bonito Generation is likely to be the most fun album you’ll hear all year. The production is disarmingly joyous and, thanks to a predilection for early ‘90s dance, some of the tracks here are absolute bangers.

If there’s a criticism to be made about Big Box Of Chocolates, it’s that while every track works on its own, often a song has a tendency to knock the course of the album as a whole off centre by contradicting its predecessor.

Yet American Football sounds like nothing that’s come in the last 16 years, or the last two for that matter.

There are sludgy, down-tuned power chords, there are whiny lyrics about how life is constantly unfair (reminder: Korn frontman Jonathan Davis is 45 years old), there is even that vocal tic where Davis sort of cackles like a disturbed demon.

Ever mutable, always evolving, never anything but relentlessly restless.

Every Now And Then takes the form of a transcendental equivalent of the longest summer. Wavelengths stretch leaving you feeling worked over, fatigued and ready for a taste of something new.

Front Row Seat To Earth strongly standing as one of the year's most affecting and luscious releases.

As a self-styled pop record then, Stay Together is something of a failure, distinctly lacking in hooks, entertainment value and any sort of real ingenuity.

A Seat At The Table is an expertly-curated, a near-perfect record that serves as a timely, musical manifesto on how to be black and proud.

In short, though this is a completely new face to Goat, a deeper, richer exploration of their abilities, it’s not a complete departure.

At times the clash of rhyme and sonic styles is too full or disjointed, sounding like the Boys are still finding their stride and working out how to cram everything in. Plenty here though to be blasted throughout Suburbia.

Outer ventures further into this new realm with an even more polished sound that doesn’t shy away from the cheesier moments. Still, the duo’s effortless delivery of multiple styles wrapped in one tight package remains very compelling.

Loaded with fan-focused extras, this three-disc box set comes with all the extra demos, b-sides and alternate versions you could ever need. If anything, it’s a timely reminder of just how many tunes Oasis had at their disposal. A salute, then, to great times gone by.

It is an album produced on it’s own terms, that should be considered on it’s own terms. Judged as such, 'Human Energy' is a successful document of an artist enjoying his life, his work and more generally his own company.

Williams manages to retain the transportative element of his previous work while slightly neatening the edges.

The Altar is more textured and artful than ‘Goddess’, BANKS growing into her role as a writer, upholding the sensual melancholia that characterised her debut. Yet, it still feels as if BANKS is fine-tuning her sound.

A bold first full album from a trio whose ambitions are clearly only getting bigger.

Unusual, refreshing and vulnerable KoKoro is an album inspired by the political, environmental and the human conscious.

Despite the lack of progression from the first album to the second Take Control is a perfectly listen-able album--and perhaps album three will be where they shine.

Let Them Eat Chaos is engaging and at only 48 minutes it doesn't outstay its welcome. Tempest seems to relish the challenge of delivering a concise but complex story over a compelling variety of instrumentals.

A work of quite singular intensity, it leaves a lasting impact.

As a whole the LP’s similar tempos and approach cause the whole thing to float by like a long-lost memory, nice when you’ve clasped on to it but soon it’ll be running through your fingers and out of sight.

Head Carrier is far from triumphant, it’s by no means a failure.

Sure, Ultimate Painting know their influences, but what shines through most of all is the sheer diversity and inventiveness of their songwriting.

Billie Marten delivers a pragmatic album that explores the equilibrium between her positive and negative outlooks on life, whilst confirming that being preoccupied with our own contemplation is and will forever be an ongoing process of the human condition.

Ape in Pink Marble doesn’t do anything innovative because it doesn’t really have to. So go ahead, Devendra, celebrate.

It’s a beautiful album, and it’s the sound of a band realising they can finally do anything they want with sound.

Yet beyond this wired mix of post-punk anxiety, splintered techno elements and haunting soul samples, it’s Danny Brown’s rhyming ability that ultimately sees the LP flourish.

This is God Damn growing into themselves, their sound and with a UK tour in full swing running into October; it’s only going to get better from here onwards.

Overall there is a distinct retro vibe to City Club. Most of the tracks possess a nostalgic groove which wouldn’t render them out of place in an episode of the enigmatic Twin Peaks

McMorrow loyalists may bemoan the polished sheen that characterises the tracks on We Move, but there is some genuine pop-soul mastery at display here, McMorrow’s sound more wholesome without renouncing the spectral quality that characterised his earlier material.

Overall, it's the record you wanted--and expected--AlunaGeorge to make three years ago. It'd be good to see them kick on, though; you still get the feeling they've an even better record in them.

Those uncharacteristic twist and turns--the hybrid of orchestral arrangements and classic indie pop formulas--give the album cohesion and a narrative despite seeming out of place at first. Still, the LP is testament to the group’s ability to churn out perfectly wrought, desperate pop, time and time again.

A solid debut then, full of yearning and barstool tales.

Yes, 22, A Million is painfully, painfully sincere. Yes, it’s also hopelessly oblique, grandiose, and pretentious. Yet it’s also an absolute diamond of a record, at once fragrantly beautifully and also hopelessly complex, easy to disregard and yet thoroughly hypnotic.

This album as a whole is without doubt greater than the sum of its parts, but it just so happens that those parts comprise one of the most intriguing production collectives in the industry, and arguably the most unique MC that this country has to offer.

Although coming quickly off the back of their debut might give people a cause for concern, the conviction with which it’s delivered should put to bed any negative preconceptions. An absolutely vital record.

One for the fanatical only.

While Scott might spend the 14 tracks telling us how incoherent he is, Birds In The Trap Sing McKnight is anything but.

There simply isn’t much to latch on to here, and certainly nothing to suggest that Still Corners aren’t completely out of ideas.

At this stage Warpaint still have their boots in two camps: the icy cool of their indie heritage and the open-hearted joy of the kind of music they clearly want to make. As the album progresses the vibrancy that decorates its first half starts to brown.

It retains the witticism and humble poetry that saw him crowned the beloved laureate of Fife, but there’s just a little bit of magic missing.

With 17 tracks this album could be expected to take off to somewhere fantastic but, although we stay very much on the same page throughout the duration of the record, the pristine production of A Moment Of Madness is faultless.

At 40 minutes long it’s probably just the right length, and both beats and rhymes will have you reaching for the microscope to appreciate the layers and nuances of each, listen on listen.

It wraps you up like a sunny day in the middle of no where. But Lynch is never far from a party, and every moment of this record is glazed with fun and pop and excitement.

The spark of unpredictability that defined his previous records is sadly lacking.

It’s her vocal prowess that threads together the line-up of producer-du-jour types that feature on For All We Know. That, and the infectious grooves that dominate this album provide endless enjoyment--18 tracks worth, to be precise.

AIM may be not the magnum opus that Mathangi Arulpragasam is capable of, but the music world would be a good deal less colourful and quirky without her in it.

Smith delivers a record that combines sonic punch with a nuanced and wide-ranging sound palette.

There is just Nick Cave, stripped to the bone and robbed of a future. It’s impossible to turn away.

If ‘Sistrionix’ was Deap Vally as a brooding teenager, Femejism is the more grown up and wiser young adult. Strong and independent, it has just realised that it doesn’t need to impress you, regardless of the immaculate construction that can’t help but bowl you over.

Innovation isn’t on the album’s invite, but nonetheless fans will gobble this up.

There is some measure of repetition throughout the album, with that constant beat keeping you on the move. But Twin Atlantic have produced an album of unashamed anthems and it doesn’t disappoint.

A few listens, however, will peel back a casing and find that every track has its own M.O and spans the curvature of the emotional kinsey scale.

Cinematic in its scope, the album runs like a screenplay with character developments, recurring themes, tragedy and, finally, resolve.

On the surface, a welcoming, accessible, wholly beautiful record, but laced with depth, allusion, and verbal knots that refuse to be untied. It’s addictive yet confusing, instantaneous yet difficult to fully understand--it continually forces to you to cease arguing, and simply listen.

On this record Leftwich has managed to turn tragedy into uplift using a consistent sonic formula.

Glass Animals should definitely continue tinkering with their sound; they just haven’t yet earnt the right to full reinvention yet.

No Mind No Money is one of those records which has the potential to evoke mass sing-a-long’s but is versatile enough to still be enjoyed in less boisterous settings--all whilst radiating a captivating warmth and comfort which ultimately will keep you coming back for more.