This is a clear transition from her work with brother Angus, allowing her individual expression, resulting in a work of true depth and emotion.

Their sound is by no means unique, and it’s not hard to detect some Metronomy and Jungle in there, but they’ve certainly raised their game to the point where they sit at the same table as their arguably more illustrious peers.

While there isn't always a tonne sonically to separate this from Tonra's day job, it must be applauded for its brutal honesty and moments of pure poetry.

The full length return of The Streets, it offers Mike Skinner at his most vivid and most forgettable, offering moments of illumination before retreating into darkness.

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

On bygone albums he has displayed his own level of assertiveness; this is strictly a diffuser of pent-up situations, perfectly balanced between the background and forefront of your get together.

The Atlanta rapper is just too slick, too fast-moving, and too good to truly bring down. ‘Mixtape Pluto’ offers ample evidence to his continuing singular form of genius.

The instrumentation and guitar playing in particular can sometimes feel like a serenade, to encapsulate such place and time easily lends credit to the talent of this songwriter and all of a sudden, you are a sundowner too.

That the ‘World’s Most Successful Virtual Band’ sounds like something you’ve probably seen on the YouTube sidebar is apt. Otherwise, it seems to be business as usual on another jubilant and solidly varied Gorillaz album.

As fans of the Glaswegian producer will know only too well, the solemnity of Menzies’ work as Alex Smoke has always proved itself to be multi-faceted; transcending the sphere of electronic music to incorporate the multi-instrumentalist’s penchant for classical instruments. Fast forward to 2016 and this truth remains intact.

‘Man Alive!’ is an absorbing consolidation of Marshall’s inimitable sound.

It’s an accomplished album, but it feels like a debut and there is nothing here that gives any kind of excitement or majorly distinguishing feature that comes with time.

With ‘Evolution’ it feels like this has been an album she has been itching to make and she has done so with wisdom, purpose and candour. Truly compelling, her artistry and perspective will make us all open our eyes a little bit wider whilst continuing to hanker after the beautiful human experience.

It’s hard not to feel like the lead singles live in their own sonic universe. The remaining album tracks, while lyrically co-ordinated, lack sonic cohesion.

Djo triumphs in an accomplished attempt at a third album which spares no songs in getting to the crux of the matter.

Like the Tin Man from The Wizard of Oz, La Di Da Di too often feels like a soulless automaton tearing around on autopilot. If only it had a heart.

Lolloping along with little desire to vary pace or style, it is ultimately forgettable.

All discussion of technique aside though, there can be no doubt that with Brute, Al Qadiri has invoked her own personal brand of protest in a world in which discussion over that right has become ever more charged.

Loose vocals meander through the whirling haze, the album more suited to intimate, personal listening rather than gatherings in the sun.

‘Broken Algorithms’ is a sizeable misfire from its title onwards, thundering about with the ham-fisted bluster of much of their debut, ‘Generation Terrorists’. Its digital focus is at odds with an album besotted with faded analogue beauty.

In marked contrast to a rich oeuvre combining stylistic fluidity with countless collaborations, it is often the most ascetic moments of introspection such as ‘When We Die’, ‘Past Mistake’, ‘Analyze Me’, ‘Makes Me Wanna Die’, and ‘Poems’ that are engraved on our memory, the stripped down productions displaying his sixth sense for the rhythm and emotional tone.

Although the album is full of brilliance, album opener ‘Marina’ stands headstrong above the others in terms of scope and grandeur, a dirty distorted guitar solo coupled with an African style instrumental and tribal chorusing sees ‘Fever’ go from commendable to a masterpiece.

In their bid to capture the essence of their bluesy, garage rock, Cage the Elephant have effectively managed to lose the quirky personality they once had, and whilst Tell Me I'm Pretty is far from a homogeneous record, the tracks do have a tendency to bleed into one another, particularly on repeat listens.

Fifteen years on from their first album, it reminds you that this band's trajectory is beholden to nothing except Andrew's own insatiable curiosity. Long may it remain this wayward.

Despite sometimes failing to embrace the originality that made its predecessors so popular, it has some exceptional moments.

Across its 12 tracks, ‘Good Riddance’, is a deeply confessional offering, with decadent melodies and production that platform her distinctive vocal.

The unabashed experimentalism can be jarring at times, but the project ultimately refuses to play it safe, carrying a quintessential European pop sensibility throughout.

Century Plaza sees all the greats of the synth-pop and original electro shown respect, if a little too closely at times--but damn, it’s some somber fun.