It’s overwhelming in its grandiosity, and though it has its virtues, Foxygen’s latest LP is best enjoyed as a bite-size hors d'oeuvre instead of a main course.

With this new album Wallace proves himself as a complex and multifaceted producer and this makes us even more excited to see what he’ll come out with next.

The record plots a gorgeous curve from open to close, with earthy drum rolls rubbing up against rusty industrial buzzsaw synths and field recordings serving as segues.

At times the new record sounds utterly sublime, particularly on a sweeping opening trio of lead single ‘Another Youth’, ‘Difference’, and the career-highlight drive of ‘Drowsy’, and though there’s the occasional hint of MOR, for the most part the group stay well clear of being ordinary.

While this experimentation might falter in places, it is a necessary and important addition to the growing Teklife catalogue of releases, prompting future collaborations, discussion, and the honing of that coveted vibe.

It goes without saying that he hasn’t lost what has made him a permanent fixture of British music for so long.

Following the trend set on previous effort ‘Olympia’, the beats continue to become crunchier, direct and undoubtedly more contemporary--but unfortunately less interesting also.

Jazz-heavy, experimental but rooted in beats, Migration plays with your emotions in a way that befits a post-break up period--and is yet another fine offering from the Ninja Tune mainstay.

Ultimately, Graveyard Of Good Times is too much of a mixed bag to be considered a great record.

It’s a follow-up that interlocks with the debut perfectly, building on its foundation both lavish and coy, doing pop music that’s both bang on target and way too wise for the charts. A dot of light in the darkness that will dazzle you should you look too long.

This [‘I am William Corder’], the pinnacle of a truly masterful, sonic annihilation of a record, is a murder ballad not in the melodramatic gothic tradition, but something else, something transcendent, and like the rest of the record something terrifyingly transfixing.

Featuring a host of Daptone Records talent (Lee Fields & The Expressions, Menahan Street Band) the album’s eleven numbers are a confident walk through the finest examples of soul instrumentals and stands a great homage to the best releases of Cadet, Stax or Hi.

There’s barely a convincing lyric in the album and by the end you’re wondering whether the title itself has been chosen based on the sheer novelty.

I See You is perhaps the bravest album of the band’s career, the one laden with the most changes, with the most prolonged journeys into the unexpected. Yet it also feels resolutely like The xx.

Youth is full of uncertainty, but one thing’s for sure: this four-piece have an impressive body of work to share with you.

They’ve managed to meld together the grand themes of ‘The Soft Bulletin’ and ‘Yoshimi…’ with some of the experimentation of ‘Embryonic’ and ‘The Terror’, and it makes for a fascinating return.

This won’t run as smoothly as her DJ-Kicks bow of 2015, and it’s not a mix you’re allowed to get comfortable with, the Siberian’s non-conformist stance playing fast and loose with the ideals of cohesion, and letting the faders lead punters astray.

This is what we have come to the expect from Eno’s ambient endeavours, and it remains as beguiling and original as ever.

Irrespective of how you choose to approach it, the final installment of the trilogy that Hansen began back in 2011 fully underlines his strength, deftness and creative dexterity as a producer.

By the time the more politically minded triptych of ‘Don’t Get Captured’, ‘Thieves!’ and ‘2100’ roll round you’ve almost forgotten just what El and Mike are capable of when they drag their eyes away from their own navels. Thankfully there’s enough gold at hand to excuse Run The Jewels for getting a little bit carried away with their own runaway success.

Despite its originality and powerful execution of atonal techniques, it is too tonally diverse to function properly as a separate entity from its corresponding film. Do yourself a favour and go listen to it in the cinema.

Though the record as a whole is weaker than its predecessor, there’s enough flashes of career-high brilliance to keep The Wharves on the right path of progression.

There are enough hair-raising moments here to anchor your skin and stop it crawling quite so much.

While there’s nothing really here to ignite a flame of revolution, or indeed get fists in the air to be honest, Peace Trail sees Young doing what comes naturally, soundtracking tumultuous times with some confident and easy songwriting.

The problem, however, is that the record suffers from a lack of variety and an overkill of nostalgia, while of a raft of identikit, if solid, guest vocalists it’s only Hot Chip’s Alexis Taylor who really stands out.

While the duo may have expanded their sonic palette, it’s Alice Merida Richards' distinctive vocals that give the record depth and weight.

It’s difficult to judge the real comedic value of The Foregone Conclusion when so much of David Brent hilarity is in physical (not so) subtleties. But when you take it for what it is: an in-joke taken out of its context and out of its comfort zone, it feels pretty triumphant.

At times Letherette overreach and their ambition to contort every trend of the last decade into a singular structure feels forced. The album flourishes where the beats are fortified by accompanying charisma.