By focussing in on softer deployments of electronics and more subtle processing, and staying resolutely in an ambient soundworld, Art In The Age Of Automation does feel comparatively safe; well turned-out and nicely polished, but generally risk-free in execution.

Some songs do pack a bigger punch than others, but at a brisk 33 minutes, the album never once outstays its welcome and even throws in a few surprises along the way.

In returning to the project that best suits his sense of adventure, James Murphy has done nothing to tarnish what has gone before. American Dream is a darker, more diverse record than its predecessors and a more human one too.

The real issue with the album though, more than any other, is its length (and the inconsistency that this brings with it). Few albums ever benefit from being 17 tracks long, particularly when there are obvious candidates for exclusion. And without wanting to sound too dismissive of the aforementioned chart ambitions, it’s here that sacrifices could have been made for the benefit of a more coherent and engaging record.

However dreamy the music may be, mind, it's not all quite so heavenly. The main distraction is how overwrought it all is. This is especially prevalent in Granduciel's lyrics which he sings in whispered reverence.

Villains is the kind of album that sits at the back of class openly smoking a cigarette but still manages to ace its exams at the end of the year.

A fantastically uniformed piece, Dark Days + Canapés boasts a rare sense of unity, the aural palette bringing together hugely disparate elements to conjure something of real impact.

While Beast Epic doesn’t quite match the strength of those records, it still remains his most pleasing work since 2007’s ‘The Shepherd’s Dog’.

Rainbow is a muddled hotch-potch that offers little beyond the fact it heralds her return. It's great to have Kesha back--it really is--but let's hope the quality improves in future.

Bold, uncompromising and totally EE, A Fever Dream further cements the idea that the Manchester outfit will one day be considered as one of art-pop’s true greats.

Where three years of agonised, vice-grip creation and destruction preceded Grizzly Bear’s 2012’s multi-dimensional effort ‘Shields’, the five years of space following has worked in their favour--leading to the conception of a creature that breathes confidently with a heavy sense of hyper-ambition in Painted Ruins.

Although SCUM can sometimes feel like the 2017 update of music you’ve enjoyed from the past 20 years, at its best Rat Boy delivers some of the most interesting and exciting moments to come from British music this year.

A bold and confident sixth effort.

Kinder Versions may not be a fully formed classic, but it demonstrates that the band’s ambitions are no empty threat.

Although the succession of lukewarm tracks early on prevents this from being a flawless debut, Vic Mensa does enough to keep the album an engaging listen even in its misguided moments.

It’s a pleasingly considered and well-crafted project from a man who’s contribution to the UK music scene should not be understated. A man who has proved himself yet again to be a talented and versatile producer with obvious respect for the music that has got him to where he is today.

It is a genuine classic album. ... Lal Waterson was a hugely significant and individual songwriter, and her spirit--alongside Mike’s energy, his unique, rasping voice and his own songwriting--plus the time capsule who’s-who of a support cast from the British folk scene of the early 1970’s--make this curious work of art individual, heartfelt and fun.

Album closer ‘Joy Ride’ does exactly what it says on the tin; it’s a joyous, perfectly assembled pop track. That’s not to say that the Kickstarter-funded LP is hit after hit--the bright and brash ‘It’s Sunny’ with its oddly theatrical tropes is a cheesy misstep.

Hug Of Thunder is a welcome return by Broken Social Scene. Dignified, grand and full of life, let’s just hope we don’t have to wait another seven years for their next record.

Littered with hyper-stimulants and the minutiae chaos of modern living, and where Ernest Greene, purveyor of faded daytime psychedelia, once spoke to romantic stasis from his internal landscape of unseen tropics, his diverting third effort sees him taking a heavy blow from reality.

Although the second half of the record loses steam somewhat with a succession of slow R&B vocal numbers like ‘Your Space’ and ‘Feelings of the World’, Sounds of Crenshaw Vol. 1 largely maintains its coherence. Its slight messiness is representative of a life lived, something that in itself never coheres as a perfect narrative.

Though Emerging Adulthood does push Croll far out of his personal comfort zone to a certain extent, it does feel like he could go further with the complexity. Nevertheless his musicianship is undeniable, as each and every instrument on the record is played by himself.

Eurgh! is, dare we say, unashamedly millennial, and implicit in its pissed-off puerility. This is why it triumphs, because there’s no room for subtlety in times like these.

Despite these few fleeting moments of greatness, Everything Now feels like the band's first missfire record of their career, with its lack of a focused concept, cohesiveness and heart.

French’s flow and character may be the same as his previous works, but his stature within the rap world has rocketed.

There’s still moments of fragility that populate the record (‘Fade’), but for the most part it’s a brazen and self-assured release, and it’s all the better for it.

For such a young talent, his lyrics are strong, but give him a few more years of life experience and they could be in a different league.

Previously it felt like as though these two sides have been difficult to reconcile on record; the abrasive would often be at odds with the tranquil, particularly on last studio album ‘Cherry Bomb’. On Flower Boy, though, Tyler has perfected his marriage of the two.