Often heavy in terms of lyrical context, in turn comes equal measures of humour: it’s difficult not to hark back to the tear away trousers with golden booty shorts underneath which Steen dons live onstage: ‘Cutthroat’ feels equally cheeky and to the point.

All of this ultimately comes together to create an utterly enchanting piece of work. A record filled with countless intricate and carefully considered elements, and yet one that never feels cluttered, or at risk of losing its pervasive emotional resonance.

There is plenty of time for Guwop to build upon the formula that already has him winning.

A warm, endearing release, Everything Ever Written is a bold and profoundly independent return.

This record is an exploration into the synergy of reengineering technology and humanity. Let yourself be taken on the journey.

‘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.

It’s this tight-rope walking of pop-maturity, moment-capturing awareness and beauty-in-simplicity attitude that has aided in Seinfeld’s rise to the top of the dance music ladder, and has helped him shape a record that showcases exactly where he is sitting in terms of sonic aesthetic right now.

Of the two acts, Costello’s pinch of dry spice makes this set more his vehicle to champion, but both show a mutual, practical affinity.

With a limitless blend of genres, there are songs that your pop princess can access alongside her punk sister, uniting them in their struggle.

Blake’s lyrics often circle ideas rather than landing on them, leaving some songs feeling like emotional sketches. But that ambiguity is part of the album’s appeal. These songs feel lived-in and unresolved, the way real relationships often are.

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.

As a whole, Savage Times is a chaotic, yet interesting album.

With six of the fourteen songs already in the public domain, the LP tips its hat to familiarity whilst still creating a whirlwind of excitement from fans.

IV marks a refinement of the BADBADNOTGOOD sound and as ever is filled to the brim with gorgeous melodies and impressive digressions.

Occasionally the momentum wanes, but only the cold-hearted could fail to forgive the odd misstep from a band taking risks, shaping their sound and refusing to stand still.

In truth, the material does a decent enough job of filling the acerbic, punk shaped void left since their decade long absence.

Life is about growth, and with this bold, brave project Loski matures as both an artist and a man.

While it doesn’t reinvent the wheel, ‘Louder, Please’ is a wholly enjoyable record that captures the spirit of the dance floor with unflinching authenticity.

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.

As the songs start to slow in the second half of the album, the focus starts to wander. The songs aren’t bad, The Drums have put out a lot worse, they just drop the thrilling momentum of the earlier half.

‘Tonic Immobility’ establishes a consistently immersive pull into a world that you don’t want to be in, but that you can’t quite escape.

Every entertaining diversion the band tries their hand at is balanced out by a nondescript jingle-jangler.

Undeniably impressive, ‘Three’ neatly frames the wondrous aspects of Four Tet’s work. It doesn’t move beyond the landscapes fans will be familiar with, choosing instead to embrace a more understated pursuit of evolution. For those in search of electronic beauty, however, few albums will be more radiant or rewarding.

This is more Ben Frost than Burzum, more interstellar overdrive than terrestrial church torching. And it’s just a bit brilliant, basically.

Bolt on an undeniably zealous execution, a set of simple yet well-written songs, add an element of confident adventure via some experimentation and diversity and the rebirth of indie may just have found its leading protagonists.

Molly Burch’s debut saw her emerge as one of the finest songwriters around, and the follow up only cements that.

A strange brew of instrumentals both delightfully becalming and playfully boisterous.

An album pieced together by a band in mourning, with the sweet sadness of O'Riordan‘s voice layered over, makes it cruder, rawer yet ultimately more truthful and hard-hitting, evoking the charged vulnerability of their very first releases.