What results is an impressive set of dark dance music that plays equally well at closing time or through your headphones at night.

Sweet, intimate and tender, Trick is a tempting treat.

While they still don't quite seem to be the finished article, there's plenty of promise.

Tom Walker’s debut is a perfect representation of him--cheerful, genuine, heartfelt and talented, and as the final notes of his much-awaited record grace your ears, it definitely seems like it’s a great time to be alive.

Ásgeir's music is far too complex and interesting to start writing off as advert fodder. There's a depth to his work that deserves to be burrowed into.

It’s a good effort in their catalogue with some shining moments, but it’s unlikely to invite those in who aren’t already fans of the band.

The majority of its songs clock in under two minutes, but Earl is able to pack so much into the short amount of time that most tracks warrant multiple listens.

Tales Of Us is relentlessly one note but frequently beautiful, and a welcome change from the theatrics of its immediate predecessor, 2010’s ‘Head First’.

With every track, she proves she’s an artist unafraid to test the edges of her sound – and to make them entirely her own.

This is the sound of Fevre going out on a high, its nagging beat and air of sensuality sounding utterly timeless, yet wonderfully, weirdly, unique.

Still confused but back on form, The Streets' final album (Skinner wants to make a film) sees a return to garage beats and square-eyed observations from a life staring at pixels on screens.

It's a solid and honourable return for a singer who has rarely disappointed.

Typically for Gainsbourg, there's a real mix of things going on here, from relaxed fun laced with irony through to quirky takes on love songs full of the louche suggestiveness befitting of the most ardent romantic.

Across its 14 tracks, Fingers, Bank Pads & Shoe Prints twitches with endless inventiveness and energy, finding Boo tinkering with vocal snatches as frequently as he skews the beats into ever-more queasily unusual formations, drawing from soul, soundtracks and classic dance music along the way.

Cinematic splashes with honest lyricism feature in the twelve-track production and there is one thing this writer can tell about ‘A Fistful Of Peaches. It’s all about escaping the war in the mind, something that helps make Black Honey a band to admire.

Instrumentally, the generous helpings of tenor sax, soft electric piano and clarinets give Fatherland a depth that warrants further listens once Kele’s rounded melodies and acoustic guitar structures have been dissected.

A few moments of confusion and inconsistency, yet remains engulfing, evocative and mood setting.

This is labour intensive listening, but hard work reaps rewards. A gnomic, genre-busting album.

Wallows are at their sunshine best on tracks like ‘Marvelous’ and ‘I Don’t Wanna Talk’, bouncy bright tracks which hold clear influences from Tame Impala, Vampire Weekend, Mac DeMarco and the likes.

The downside to the album is to appreciate it properly you need to play it front to back, no skipping. Whilst paying attention. This isn’t something to play in the background. You need to concentrate on it.

It's an eclectic mess that, when performed with such a light touch, just gels.

It’s an exemplar of her adaptability, and in a music realm stacked with mind-numbing, homogeneous house numbers, Katy B still occupies a lane of her own.

One of Kirby’s key strengths is her lyrics, but even with her voice front and foremost her repeated appeal to “wait, wait, wait, listen” seems like it could be genuine. On the other hand, the fact that a first spin inspires a kind of relaxed inattention just makes ‘Blue Raspberry’ more of a slow burn, one which rewards listeners who come back for more.

Alpha divides its time between striking out, tempering aggression and giving time to think and go deeper, walking the line between something to respect and invest in. For a producer with as marked an evolution as Dear, that’s pretty clear cut.

The results are mixed, but what’s certain is that Mild High Club have broken ground and laid new foundations with their most nuanced and exploratory material to date.

‘HEAVY JELLY’ is wilder, faster, heavier, more frenetic, and downright hilarious that anything they’ve done together before. Both cartoonish and extreme, it’s a cycle of songs that are both heavy duty and utterly ridiculous.

Despite said retro parallel, White Lies do sound like a band firmly in the present, utilising electronic samples with classic valve-driven guitar chords to accompany the trademark baritone of McVeigh.

When we’re not soaring we’re wrapped in ambient solemnity, all the while fixated on Nika Danilova’s voice: theatrical, confessional and, perhaps for the first time, totally unafraid.

At times the sonic influences can feel a little too obvious, but that is balanced by the undoubted highs, and the frank openness of his lyricism.

Big Joanie makes their own home on the record, and in the process, their own mark on contemporary rock. In a nutshell: Big Joanie is a band that deserves your attention.

Death III is the last of the group’s unreleased masters, a dusty odds-and-ends collection of songs from the ‘70s, 1980 and 1992 that’s full of drifting guitar melodies and psychedelic funk.

Overall, No 6 Collaborations Project is an eclectic mix of songs, some familiar, some forgotten after the first listen and some deeply impactful.

Boy Pablo has once again crafted a concise, beach-worthy, summer bedroom rock set of songs, perfect for any indie kids’ “at the beach” playlist.

All good music transports the listener, and 'Afrique Victime' does that in spades while spreading a message of hope, resilience, and lessons on political inequality.

Overall, it’s a hearty welcome back to one of Britain’s best-selling singers.

While the slower tracks are perfunctory, it’s the moments where he stretches himself – vocally and musically – that elevate the album.

Adam Lambert doesn’t do subtle, he is theatrical through and through – and we are here for it. The gravitas towards all things dramatic is ever present throughout his latest offering ‘High Drama’ – an album of bold reimagined tracks personally curated by the singer himself.

‘All Over The Place’ swaps the focussed UK rap of his debut for something broader, balancing soulful guests and slick production in the process. While not everything here excels, it’s a bold record and cements KSI’s place as a key player in UK music.

While not their best work, ‘Ultra Mono’ takes many leaps forward in terms of songwriting and tunecraft, while blowing a few kisses at their detractors. That’ll be mission accomplished.

Granted space once more to create his own world, ‘Set The Tone’ is an enjoyable addition to one of rap’s core catalogues.

As they create their most on-their-terms album to date, Band of Horses manage to lift a weight from your shoulders you perhaps didn’t know was there.

Assume Form isn’t a radical reinvention, but more a refinement. Live strings, for example, bring an organic warmth missing in some of his formative work.

Everett has fought his well-documented trails and tribulations tooth and nail, and this gritty but ultimately joyous album stands as testament to that.

It’s a road record to soundtrack a hazy journey across the outback in search of a lost love, contemplating the world whilst swigging on a beer. Hope Downs is far from perfect, but it has charm in abundance.

Taking his muse from the voyeuristic photographs of Man Ray, each note drips with sex and death.

An urgency and classic rock vibe, noticeably missing from recent atmospheric releases, is back in full swing here, and it works to their advantage.

Perhaps not one for the casual fan, but there’s plenty to unpack for the long-time admirer.

The album definitely picks up where the previous effort left off, but delves even deeper into the left-field and draws from an ever-growing well of influences and ideas. It is this stylistic exploration that makes Man Vs Sofa all the more intriguing and unpredictable, but simultaneously renders it slightly less accessible than the duo’s debut.

Every track demonstrates a beauty in the everyday; in the mundane; in our reality. And combining such observations with the sweeping sounds of orchestral talent and acoustic guitar, the end result, of the combination of these juxtaposing complex and simple elements, is one that feels familiar.

Not revelatory, then, but there’s enough on ‘The Theory Of Whatever’ to underline Jamie T’s status as a vital force within British music.

The production may be a little smoother but Pedestrian Verse just seems to prove how lasting, how devastating Frightened Rabbit can be.

A helter skelter 11 track run-through, ‘Cuts & Bruises’ retains everything that made INHALER’s debt so effective while adding some excellent new elements.

A work of assured yet subtle transition, it re-engages with some of alt-J’s core tenets, while not being afraid to engage emotionally.

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.

The result is a slightly odd, somewhat disjointed response, and one that serves to highlight just how daunting it is to tackle a cover from the former Genesis frontman’s catalogue.

Dragged down by a excess of melodrama, with some cutting and a dash of pop sensibilities The Jezabels would have a stone cold classic.

‘Apocalypse Love’ is a primal cry, a maniacal love letter to their sonic anarchy and the unpredictability of the world we live in. It’s a discordant record, swerving through genres and emotions at breakneck speed, but that’s what the Black Lips are all about.

Madlib continues to provide the backing that allows Freddie Gibbs to shine, choosing to predominantly stick to slower, authentically instrumental led soundscapes across the LP.

Some of the record suffers from being a little noodley--‘Shadows’ being the only standout example--but this can be forgiven both in the face of the scale of the task at hand and the otherwise great aplomb with which it’s been tackled.

‘Prestige’ is an album guaranteed to soundtrack some upcoming sunny days, imbued with fun and genuine passion in equal measure.

Vulnerable, complex and beautiful, it is an album that gets richer with every listen, and cements Hutson’s status as a songwriter to take notice of.

The heavier, dirtier mood suits these Pirates--the spirit of 1979 burns bright.

It’s a functional entry in Chlöe’s already-impressive pantheon of works. Here’s hoping this release frees her up to lean more zealously into her production quirks when the next solo experiment beckons.

A record that thrives on subtlety, ‘Screen Time’ is engaging but never simple, its quiet complexities taking time to truly unfurl amid Thurston Moore's painterly landscapes.

A puzzle that will take a long time to fully unlock, ‘Honestly, Nevermind’ stands on these immediate listens as Drake’s most daring gesture, a devastating about-turn that will fascinate and frustrate in equal measure.

With ‘In Times New Roman…’ Homme and co. have crafted a darkly seductive return, an intoxicating psychedelic record that drips with equal parts malice and renewal. It’s good to have them back.

This set is teeming with energy despite its down moments, and demands to be played again in its entirety as soon as it ends.

Slipknot make an unexpected impact with their newly-discovered tenderness, but it’s those instantly-recognisable throat-shredding roars that really shine.

Their heaviest record since ‘Suicide Silence’. Well, maybe their heaviest record since ‘There Is A Hell…’. OK, almost certainly their heaviest record since ‘Sempiternal’. This is not to say that going back to their brutal roots is a bad move. Sykes recently described heavy music as the band’s ‘bread and butter’, and there’s definitely a sense that BMTH are playing on home turf with ‘SURVIVAL HORROR’.

Though it often overstays its welcome, with a handful of tracks pushing beyond the 15-minute mark, Twin Fantasy is an ideal starting point for any latent Will Toledo fan.

Cinematic in scope and delicately constructed, the album grows from warm, organic techno (‘Persona’) through ambient electronica (‘Dreamer’s Wake’) to the insistent synths, drums and drones of ‘Hidden’. Lovely stuff.

It’s a worthy project, one that demonstrates to the listener just how much METZ crushed from day one before reminding them that they haven’t stopped crushing it since.

The pace is infectious and small helpings will sweeten your day.

At the centre of Panic At The Disco’s best album yet is Urie himself. The charisma and eccentricity of the front man, matched by his jaw-dropping vocal acrobatics sees Urie finally become the ringmaster of his own circus.

Apollonia is for fans of Jamie xx, Tame Impala, and SBTRKT, and all its elements have been combined and thoughtfully arranged in a way that makes sense. A solid debut for Garden City Movement.

With a plethora of guest spots adding some serious variety to the already sonically multifarious album, hearing Big Boi go back and forth with the likes of Kurupt, Snoop Dogg, Eric Bellinger, and even Adam Levine of Maroon 5, makes it all the more fun.

Davidson has easily transitioned between dim clubs and big festivals and learned to balance her acerbic ‘existential pop’ with hard-nosed techno. Drawing on the former, ‘Renegade Breakdown’’s appeal is in some ways broader, but she also risks putting off some of the initiated. On the whole, it functions as a reminder of the virtues of going against the grain and not playing it safe.

It has moments of great assurance, where drums, strings, and vocals are heavily foregrounded, making it perhaps the most solid or opaque soundscape of the band’s entire career. ... And whilst it is doubtless an exciting prospect to finally hear the work in full and professionally produced, the elusive nature of this work has now dissipated.

The resulting album, on which she’s joined (as ever) by the brilliant Bobb Bruno, is an irresistibly upbeat tribute to self-care, reflection, and the joy of the everyday.

Impulsive, instinctive and infectious, the eccentric and emotional Ørsted walks an enchanting tightrope.

Over its twelve tracks, the listener is taken down the proverbial rabbit hole as Grzegorz Kwiatkowski's hypnotic and repetitive lyrical attack lulls you along. This isn't an album that grabs you by the collar, but rather builds tension and release as it lures you through the dark thickets of your mind.

His latest LP is an endearing collection of slow-burning, dreamy arrangements, which find the singer wistfully contemplating the shifting nature of identity.

‘Social Lubrication’ carries all the raw, essential components of what make Dream Wife such a well celebrated act while remaining remarkably self-assured and polished, even if the trio don’t greatly expand on their recognised formula.

Perhaps surprisingly, Adrian Thaws' Tricky schtick has yet to get old, with the only missteps on this, his ninth, album arriving when he conforms to, rather than resists, convention. Where it's good however, it's superfly.

Originally whittled down from 40 songs Williams had penned from a jumble of sample-led ideas, You’re Welcome nonetheless features Wavves proverbial fuzzy guitar distortions and surf vibes, but includes his explorative forays into ‘70s psychedelia from South America, Cambodian pop and his obsession of ‘50s doo-wop.

Ultraviolence marks real progression: never has Del Rey sounded so compellingly crystalline on a set of recordings. Thematically, though, tracks can appear content to splash in the shallows.

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.

‘Not Your Muse’ is not a revolutionary album, but every track is a more than enjoyable listen.

‘Heavy Like A Headache’ takes the musical intricacies that The Ninth Wave are cherished for into new territories. Lyrically, this is The Ninth Wave’s strongest album yet – they’ve never been more open about themselves as artists.

The act-to-act cohesion is seamless, as is the recreation of rigid techno militancy, and should be met with at least one bouquet brought to the stage.

While they felt the need to force the issue, beneath those jarring, incongruous riffs lies some rock ‘n’ roll of the purest kind.

It’s precisely this collection’s dry, detached, robotic angles that appeal.

While offering more of the same, nevertheless does it with sparkle and verve.

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.

Here they've created a retro cinema soundtrack to an '80s sci-fi romance.

So, while Robyn shows that her body can certainly do the talking, when it comes to walking the walk she's prone to stumbling in directions she should avoid.

Rock-hard and sloppy in equal measure, Boy King is a creature of base instinct from a band of high intellect more used to drawing their songs from their frontal lobes than their testes (even if their lyrics often suggest otherwise).

Organic, intimate and well worth adding to anyone's collection. Grab that jumper and enjoy.