There are a couple of tonal mis-steps, we’re looking at your ‘Esportes Casual’, and perhaps the running time could be shaved down, but overall this stands as a sweet reminder to take a step back from the madness and breathe.

As a whole, ‘Loss Of Life’ deftly balances the ability to appeal to the hardcore fans who have stuck with them, all while winning back the hearts of those who may have been lost along the way.

Undeniably beautiful. Aloof, abstract and elegant, it melds ambient expanse with pop form to idyllic, if unassuming effect.

‘The Competition’ gets a hell of a lot right, and you get the feeling for album five it might finally all together perfectly.

Successful forays into synth-disco (‘Look At Your Hands’), slo-mo new wave (‘Coast To Coast’) and hymnal R&B (‘Home’) rescue a uniquely energetic, smart record in danger of over-saturation.

A short, sharp burst of intensity, it’s like a 40-minute session on the massage table with kneading thumbs being pushed into your brain.

Tthe songwriting is strong without being spectacular, and John Congleton’s production offers clarity but is somewhat lacking in edge.

Still splitting opinion. Still weaving rich pop tapestries from whatever fibres take their fancy. They deserved better.

‘I Hear You’ is a solid tribute to vintage house, brought cohesively together under Gou’s powerful artistic stamp. But, there’s a feeling we’ve already seen her best work – 2021’s gorgeous synth-wave single ‘I Go’ is included in this tracklist but is not rivalled, while tracks like ‘1+1=11’ sound a bit too close to Gou’s self-professed love for 90s German trance DJ, ATB.

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

Though it’s slow and brooding, Impermanence is bold enough to employ silence as part of the music.

The approach proves that there’s still relevance to be found in the commercial compilation. This is largely down to the third disc, titled ‘Meditation’, which serves as a compilation of entirely new material that sees Craig shift his focus from dancefloor fodder to some impressive ambient explorations.

Brighter and airier than a lot of corona art, it might also be also more enduring. It’s a collaboration that invites listeners along for a ride between a now- distant musical past and the present.

Trentemøller’s studio chops are beyond question, but the results here suggest something of a new musical identity crisis.

‘Tension II’ is embedded in Kylie’s more up-front pop tendencies. That’s no bad thing – she’s the best around, after all – but it does make the project feel a little slim in places.

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 is an album that finds progress in small gradients. Subtle in its evolution, Kings Of Leon treat ‘When You See Yourself’ as a means to re-engage with their early bite, yet remain unwilling to cede their place at rock’s top table. As a result, it’s neither the complete break some yearn for, nor an attempt to re-capture the commercial power that emanated around ‘Only By The Night’.

The brevity doesn’t downplay the creativity. A stunning four-track feast, the only downside is that we don’t hear more from such a formidable cast.

Earthy, enigmatic and possessed of a refreshing lightness of touch.

‘6PC Hot’ is a suggestive, highly creative return, one that suggests fresh possibilities while further reinforcing the songwriter’s future-charged brand of arena level R&B.

There is melody here, clear structure. The Blackest Beautiful is a pop record, of a kind. The kind that eats the other albums racked next to it.

An intriguing if not fully formed experiment, ‘Fear Of The Dawn’ is a defiantly un-Jack White statement, transgressing his role as a traditionalist in favour of something less logical. Packed with nervous energy, its haphazard dash to the finish line is nothing if not fascinating.

Uncompromising and unconventional, ‘Glasgow Eyes’ sit comfortably in The Jesus and Mary Chain canon.

While each of the band's EPs were like short, sharp gut-shots, Vile Child feels diluted in comparison, and as such is a record that shows plenty of promise, but not one that will change lives.

The backbone is Allen’s afrobeat vibe, on top of which ten Haitian percussionists have piled on the voodoo grooves and chants. Pretty krautrockarama.

There's parts of On Desire that feel all too familiar, and there's parts that simply don't work. For every negative though there's a melody or lyric that makes it shine, and for that, the band are worth sticking with, at least for the time being.

Cerulean Salt isn’t boundary breaking, but it possesses qualities enough to leave one charmed, if not consistently captivated.

Often it feels more like an overly conscious art project rather than an album that will sustain repeated listening; it's undeniably, admirably beautiful in parts, but ultimately too consciously cerebral and self satisfied to love.