To some Goldheart Assembly will stand as a fine example of musical romance, but others might not enjoy the beta endearment that washes over the record, and find it dry, maybe even a little dull.

The Beautiful Stories is their liveliest effort to date.

‘You Don’t Walk Away From Love’ is an iconic stomp, ‘Silverlined’ is custom-made for arms-around-shoulders festival singalongs, holding court with the best of the foursome’s anthems, while ‘Magnificent’ showcases Harry’s duality perfectly: at one moment, he’s both primed to take on the world, and doubting his every step.

Like always, Little Mix shine best when they are deep in their millennial sass. Never shy about breaking a fourth wall in the name of female empowerment.

It’s thrilling stuff but most importantly, with him [Sergio Pizzorno] solely steering the ship, it’s the most authentic this band have sounded in a long time - once again, it feels like they’re capable of going anywhere they want.

The resultant ‘Tropical Gothclub’ is so polished and pristine that the only pity is that it didn’t come sooner. Given the pantheon of rock stars he’s bolstered over the years, Dean has finally earned a little slice of time in his own limelight.

The album’s title suggests consistency, but in fact, it is a thrillingly unpredictable musical journey.

Given its significant personal story - not to mention its lofty title - ‘Death & Love Pt. 1’ could have been an opportunity for the band to explore meatier topics of mortality and aging; instead, this feels like a frustratingly safe exercise in walking well-trodden paths.

‘Everyone Says Hi’ is impeccably constructed and quietly lush – although towards the latter half, it does threaten to straddle the line between ‘quiet’ and ‘background music’.

Taking an unmistakable euphoria and driving it home, with Life Of Pause Wild Nothing might have planted their feet firmly on the ground, but that hasn’t stopped Jack Tatum from creating a soundscape straight from your wooziest daydream.

A very subtle progression from what has come before, it remains to be seen whether 2020-era BBC will capture the hearts and minds of a new generation. But for those who’ve held on in hope of their return, the rewards are fruitful.

Getting to the end is a slog. Sometimes, maybe you can just be a bit too clever for your own good.

A bewitching, and surprisingly diverse debut, it looks like Jillian Banks more than lives up to the hype.

Will SASAMI be challenging those at pop’s top table for their spots any time soon? Perhaps not, but this latest metamorphosis feels invigorating for both the genre, and the singer herself.

Placing air guitar and hairbrush karaoke moments alongside twirling, hands-on-heart emotion, with Stiff, White Denim place all their capabilities on show.

This is perhaps Sigur Rós' most human-sounding album to date, too. Prepped for intimate nights with loved ones and exhausting journeys back home; it's an album that ditches the dramatic and brings in the calm.

A rich, multifaceted insight into contradictory nature of growing up and older, this is Bethany’s finest move yet.

For everything that's come before, For All My Sisters feels like another step up. [Mar 2015, p.71]

Pop-rock deconstructionist, art-rock godfather, Portland father and family man: all these elements come through here and it makes this album a triumph.

Fake Sugar paints Ditto as a more diverse, often even restrained artist than the larynx-shredding punk aggressor of the mid-00s. That said, the more familiar nocturnal stomps of ‘Go Baby Go’ and ‘Do You Want Me To?’ are still the record’s angular highlights but even so--Fake Sugar remains, at times, a surprisingly sweet listen.

Consistent it may not be, but during its finest moments Nobody Knows is unequivocal proof that Beal's artistry is more than capable of surpassing his legend.

‘Leaf Off/The Cave’ and ‘What Will’ are the strongest of the 10 new strands to this web, yet it is hard to assign priorities to what is a consistently good album.

Infinite Summer is the classic case of an album that’s so fully-melded, so self-composed in its identity, that you get the nagging sense of déjà vu, that you’ve been here before, and yet it’s something brand new.

Ultimately, this is the sound of a group looking back at what they’ve achieved individually in order to get that chemistry churning again.

Not everything works on an album that is perhaps slightly too long, however, there is a pleasing sense of ambition to Dan, The Automator’s symphonic productions, tinged with an old school flavour.

The Horrors go several steps further. Fragments of the group's past link together and the future illuminates in unison. Luminous is the album they've been destined to make.

A solid improvement from "All Our Kings Are Dead" but they will need to do more if they want to break into the big time.

Will and Alison will probably shift gears again on their next album, but Silver Eye is likely to become a standout record in their ever-morphing canon.

Oasis bled into mediocrity faster than you can say 'Blur were better', but just occasionally on Spacehopper in Tripwires you can see the same ambition and pop nous that made their early tracks such a thrill to the mainstream.

They’re never going to reinvent the wheel, and there are a few moments (halfway mark ‘Missing You’ springs to mind) that feel a little too much. But there is something intensely satisfying in their sugary hooks and their handle on catchy, unadulterated melodies.

‘As Long As You Are’ is a steady-as-she-goes sort of affair - a solid effort from the four-piece that would fare better with a little more exploration.

The beauty in Drinks is that there’s nothing else too close to their sound. With moments of sheer chaotic genius married with brilliant songwriting, Hippo Lite offers something new on every listen.

This is not a perfectly crafted album; instead, it’s an incredibly human one.

Los Niños Sin Miedo is a richly enjoyable exploration of the weird and wonderful, and a big two fingers up to all those who ever doubted them.

Full of lilting indie-pop, often swelling with trumpets, string sections and a sense of wistfulness, European Heartbreak sounds nostalgic for a dream, the realisation of which has long since passed.

Sensitive to a whole host of influences old and new, ‘Everyday Nothing’ is a confident, cohesive and finely-honed debut.

Not to Disappear is intentionally difficult to stomach. It finds a dark pit to nestle in and then digs deeper. But few acts could deliver these unceasingly grim details with such majesty.

[Shut Down the Streets is] a truly mature and well-rounded work, with a complete lack of pretension, and a lot of warmth and heart.

This is by no means a ripping up of the rule book for Jade, but from this side-step where she’s going next could be anyone’s guess.

Ten tracks of orgasm-loving, empowering anthems, that pack a punch musically as well as lyrically, what’s not to love?

'Between The Times & Tides' is a beacon of craftsmanship and invention coated in [a] marvellously empathetic collection of pop tunes.

Their fourth studio album simultaneously searches for hope as it candidly condemns their surroundings. ‘Self Worth’ looks to find just that, violently expelling all that is wrong to settle on inner peace. That anger is palpable, from the jarring opening of ‘Stay There’ to the minimalist bass and accompanying cries of ‘Apathy’.

It’s a confident release from a seasoned band still harbouring the energies of youth. Somewhat paradoxically however, it’s also a considered record, one that muses on the transient and a reminder of the importance of being able to appreciate what we’ve got, while we’ve got it.

Sure, single ‘Shockwave’ and ‘Be Still’ plod slightly, but Liam’s second is a whole lot more sentimental. ... Elsewhere, love song ‘Halo’ jams like the ‘Stones’ ‘Let’s Spend The Night Together’, the title track hints at later Weller, and - of course - there’s an unmistakeable Beatles-esque guitar solo on ‘Meadow’. All of which are references welcome to anyone who’s stuck around for Liam’s new stuff.

There is one very commendable thing about 'No Gods' that cannot be said of many of the revival bands of the moment though – Sharks seem almost entirely free from pretension; for that reason alone the album will garner respect and stand the test of time with punk fans.

You’ll come across both seemingly self-explanatory clues and more esoteric ones, which taunt you with their mysteries, and you will lose sense of time and reality as you wade through the debris. This album will absolutely floor you if given the chance.

A kaleidoscope of charming sounds.

Even with the twisting and turning of different styles Gallows remain ferocious until the last drop.

There’s enough evidence on Ropewalk that The View’s songwriting senses remain sharp, but the turgid manner in which they’ve served up this group that renders it a disappointment.

Bolder, brighter and better than ever, Waiting A Lifetime is the sound of a band having fun being free.

Whether they’re railing against the establishment or helping us escape, LIFE’s debut provides comfort and support for us all.

A fun, full-of-heart pop record that’s 2018’s first big surprise.

Every single moment of ‘A Situation’ feels dreadfully real and groovy as heck, so prepare yourself mentally - you may start to believe the matrix is real.

There are whispers of similarity to her queer contemporaries, too, from Shura (’Pandora’s Box’) to Years & Years (’Nightingale’), that make this break-up record much more exciting than its conveyor belt competition.

It’s weird and brilliant, and anything but regressive.

He’s decided to take things a little slower, in the process creating his best, and perhaps most coherent, album to date.

It’s comforting like an old blanket. Perhaps a bit itchy in places, but when things get cold it’s just what you need.

Kin is a hypnotic album on its own merit and needs no elaborate campaign to stand out.

25 25 sounds as great in a bedroom as it would do in any sweaty nightclub, and for that reason, it’s a triumph.

Joanna Gruesome have adapted, honed and stretched their sound on Peanut Butter, and though nothing here sticks in the brain quite like ‘Sugarcrush’ or ‘Secret Surprise’, their tip as one of Britain’s brightest new hopes is more than backed up on this showing.

They're a throwback to the eighties heyday of playing around with the familiar shapes and sounds of songs whilst still being, well, listenable and accessible.

Because for all the added atmospherics, the album never feels overcrowded - Daughn Gibson’s haunting baritone always shines through.

The Gotobeds execute a formula of beer-drenched reckless abandon, tense odes to the unloved and loveless. The result is a smart, sharp record to soundtrack the end of the world (or maybe even just a hungover Sunday afternoon.)

Folila's best moments do inadvertently serve as a reminder of how good Amadou & Mariam are without the hired help.

There are basically no odd turns here, no tangents into unexpected territory and certainly nothing at will make you spin your head round for a second glimpse. That being said, it fulfils its remit with consummate ease and you'd be hard pressed to say it's unenjoyable.

At times 'Rant' comes across like a hip church choir having a go at some pop hits. Yet, in the main, this is a fun and genuinely touching set of songs.

Mason's voice is lazier and more monotone than it ever was on the debut (a good thing) but the infectious nuances and off-beat concepts in the music are still not quite at their 2005 levels.

The Los Angeles singer-songwriter spinning tales of dark, often questionable situations in a barely-there whisper atop folkish instrumentation that owes similar debts to the city’s famed ‘70s scene and Elliott Smith. With yes, witty lyrical asides that jar smartly with his seemingly timeless sound.

As an introduction to the man and a myth he’s already constructing it’s a very enticing and exciting one, if there’s more to come at this level from him true classics await.

While there are certainly no grand overarching themes designed to tie the whole album together, the collection has a coherent unity both musically and lyrically which more conceptually defined and led works would struggle to match.

Lady Wood isn’t an album made for radio or easy digestion. The hooks are there but, like Tove herself, they aren’t succumbing expectations.

Dave’s voice holds up well throughout, showing vulnerability. It makes for an exciting, experimental, laid back 11 tracks, and we can only hope this isn’t the last solo work from him.

Replicating the 60s psych sound is something that is often tried but rarely successful, yet this Kiwi trio suit these influences that they so obviously wear on their sleeves.

Turning the lens on himself, it’s more introspective, touching on relationships and self-worth without ever losing that smirk and shrug in his delivery.

The songs themselves are invariably linked through a series of euphoric crossovers and trippy interludes that create a strong sense of life within the music.

With Liam’s solo career on a high, it’ll be interesting to see where more experimentation leads him next - although somewhat of a mixed bag here, it’s thrilling to see him stray from the formula he knows too well.

It’s another reinvention from the prolific outfit, a joyous ten-track delight, just in time for (our) summer.

It’s already been a long journey for this band, but it feels like they’re only just beginning to take the right track.

II is their finest work yet and cements the fact that Moderat have developed into a dance act whose existence should never have even been questioned in the first place.

Something On High is earnest, intelligent and more than anything, sincere.

They didn’t rush into Operator, and the compelling finished article is proof that patience pays dividends in the album game. Other rock debuts this year may well prove more immediately accessible, but few are likely to be as thrillingly original.

The whole record shows them as a band who wear their heart on their sleeve, a perfect mix of ‘90s guitar nostalgia and sweet-sounding slacker rhythms.

Messy in its execution, and lacking in simplicity, No_One Ever Really Dies isn't nearly as profound as it thinks it is.

‘Written & Directed’ sees the quartet evolving into the rock outfit they’d always threatened to be.

For a record born of fatigue and exhaustion, she imbues a renewing sense of urgency to each bar she delivers.

There’s a perfectly fine indie-rock record here, if only it were a little less obfuscated by an aim it doesn’t quite achieve.

There are a couple of misses, particularly ‘G.O.A.T’’s obvious attempt at a sports montage soundtrack, but largely ‘Happenings’ is full of genuinely interesting choices. Free to indulge all the multitudes of his tastes, Pizzorno is managing, against many odds, to keep Kasabian moving forward.

Voices is more than an uppercut of an album, it’s a finishing move.

Streamlined and minimal but bursting with intelligence, humour and ideas, BODEGA are the real deal.

With ‘Fragments’, Bonobo is as listenable as ever. But this locked groove is one he seems too comfortable in. Once you hear where he can go, there’s a frustrating desire to see him latch on to that fragment of himself rather than the familiar.

‘Second Nature’ hits the mark when it comes to dancing, although taking the time to embrace those quieter moments can often be some of the best, too.

Bella may not have enjoyed bringing ‘Quarter Life Crisis’ to life, but in facing her insecurities head on she chips away at the pristine Baby Queen polish and pairs her distinct brand of pop with real substance.

With the world often seeming like a bleakly real episode of Black Mirror these days, Losing--a record that expresses the paralysing feeling of helpless that comes from watching it all unfold--is both timely and cathartic.

She is as captivating as ever, but the rougher edges have been removed slightly giving us a more polished, and immediate, album.

hile ‘Back in Brazil’ is a tad baffling, ‘Caesar Rock’ doesn’t quite hit the right notes, and ‘People Want Peace’ feels a tad trite, even from one of the (probable) pioneers of the peace hand signal. Still, it’s hard to leave Egypt Station without a grin.

This time around, she delivers more of the same: tracks for the club with a sense of restraint and melancholy, as well as a poppy accessibility.

In short, the Canadian four-piece’s third LP is a terrific fusion of indie, new-wave and house that demands attention.

On all fronts, this is a stirring return to form.