Still, for all his determination to thumb his nose at convention, I Love You, Honeybear finds Tillman falling face first into perhaps the most expected of musical tropes: the “mature” sophomore release.

Aspects of the record come off slightly muddled.

Granted, Chapter and Verse isn’t rewriting the book, but it is yet more proof that Funeral For A Friend still possess that same fire, that same determination, to keep making great records.

Admittedly, her debut has been a bit of a long time coming--with last minute changes delaying until 2015--but with her songwriting already sounding accomplished and confident, it’s been time well spent.

Dense to the extreme, a thick fog of emotions that concedes nothing, this is as uncompromising and potentially definitive as a break-up album could ever be.

While their move away from the genre isn’t quite absolute, this album proves that they possess enough confidence and ability to do just about whatever they want.

Two Gallants’ rulebook may be dusty, weathered and well-worn, but there’s a familiarity to what they’re doing that can’t help but make We Are Undone a thoroughly enjoyable listen.

As a taster for her imminent third album, Emmy has newly positioned herself, distancing herself from the ‘anti folk’ sound she once claimed with 2009 debut ‘First Love’.

Aqualung has been ingeniously invigorated.

An early contender for one of 2015’s most welcome returns.

They follow through with their gaudy intentions perfectly, and like an outdated sci-fi film filled with dodgy costumes and flaky green-screen, ‘Man It Feels Like Space Again’ manifests itself in bold, kitschy, and psychedelic appeal from start to finish.

Rarely entering the realm of pastiche, in all, this makes for a brilliant, ageless album.

The jaunty, energetic hints of Britpop cast aside, this is Gaz Coombes the adult man, writing adult songs, and they’re really rather great.

This album should plant El Khatib as someone to keep a close watch on. For now though, there’s still room for him to grow--another trip to the desert awaits.

At times the record may not hang together, but it makes up for that in its colour, its audacity, and its unabashed sense of pride at giving just about anything a go.

At over an hour long, it’s a collection which could do with a slightly more ruthless approach in the cutting room but that’s a minor nit-pick when the material is this strong.

Enter Shikari have made their mark with a hybrid theory of conflicting ideas but, unsure where they sit between Rage Against The Machine and Radiohead, it lacks real conviction.

2014 saw many bands trying to recreate sounds of the past in their own way, but with Viet Cong, the band are remoulding genre conventions and confirming that they’re not settling for anything other than pushing the boundaries.

[Singer Colin Meloy's] ability to write hooks is still as strong as ever, and the narrative prowess he has always made absolute use of is ever stirring.

Ratworld is that rarest of beasts--a debut album that’s got a backstory running deeper than all six seasons of Lost, but still sounds like it’s delivered without any requirement for effort whatsoever.

As a record, it lacks a coherent identity.

A record that’s equal parts sugar rush power-pop and low-end meandering.

Though some of their peers may have waned on their long, drawn out returns, Sleater-Kinney have only grown stronger in their time off. Ten years away has made them more essential than ever. Nostalgia be dammed.

Club Meds is precise, mature and brooding, and despite the tendency to layer noises and experiment--most notably on the largely forgettable ‘War Spoils’--is at its best when closer to Mangan’s folk-based home.

Panda Bear Meets The Grim Reaper is dense, slippery, wily, and flung together effortlessly like a meticulously rehearsed sleight of hand. Boy, is it worth the legwork.

Snarling, quick-witted one-liners are Girlpool’s absolute forte, along with a minimal, as-the-crow-flies approach to writing that wastes no time hitting on each vital melody.

The Dream Walker comes laced with the feeling that, of all the various multimedia forms that make up the Angels & Airwaves project, it’s sadly the music that is the weakest link.

The fact that Words To The Blind doesn’t really make any kind of conventional sense, though, is perhaps the point of the entire endeavour. On their own terms Bo Ningen and Savages have succeeded.

Some of these songs could have been picked out from different eras altogether, they’re from such distant worlds. But once this record finds its structure, its own voice beyond the ugly context, it’s hard to imagining it arriving in any other form.

Despite being a headrush of industrial, electronic blasts, the follow up to debut ‘GOB’ packs a warm heart.

It’s an accomplished rock record that’s a very welcome addition to the band’s enduring history.

Kiesza may have already dominated the charts and club scene, but she’s got a whole lot more tricks up her sleeve.

Instead of sewing the seed for a brighter future, TV on the Radio leap ahead with a renewed sense of being.

A record that needs its fat well and truly trimming.

Blue's watery explorations demonstrate an intriguing new facet to the project, but it might well come at the expense of the fearsome impact that earlier releases packed in the shedload.

While intriguing and often beautiful, it’s also a little frustrating. There’s a sense that this is only half a story, half a tale told.

Just as the pair’s ability to create moods with just their guitars is impressive--it’s a bit much over twelve tracks.

A delightfully fun record.

It’s a collection of songs that reflects anxiety and paranoia, a distrust of the present but also belief in their own ability. It also presents a band with a future in which they have opened up new avenues for themselves.

The Inevitable End accepts its own strengths and faults in one fatal blow, just like any last gasp should.

‘Beginners’ and ‘Radio Tokyo’ lead the way in the clout department, and increasingly, Hookworms sound like a band comfortable with being immediate as well as complex.

Foo Fighters are providing the map, it’s up to the audience to explore. Therein lies its beauty.

Side projects come and go, but it’s obvious that Les Sins is going to be around for some time.

Moments like the stripped-back vulnerability of ‘Dust’ and the lyrical mirroring of ‘The Lovers’ show Deptford Goth at his minimal best.

For anyone who’s ever wondered what sort of album a hybrid of Joan Jett and Janet Jackson would make, the answer is right here.

Its second half is abrasive to the extreme, but by this point the hypnotic album’s already worked its charm. If Blunt is ever to settle into a routine, this should be his blueprint.

As such a unique style of music in their field, there is no reference point to compare Mariachi El Bronx to, but if you’ve enjoyed ‘I’ and ‘II’, or you want to hear something a bit different then Mariachi El Bronx III is well worth a listen.

This record still feels raw, it still feels intimate, but a little more bold in its sentiments. It’s in those moments of bravery and risk that Rice still stands worthy of his heart-wrenching troubadour title.

It’s not quite the full spectrum of colours, but there’s an ambitious scale within its palette that allows Arca to craft the textural masterpiece that Xen quite often hints at being.

A record that intertwines effortlessly whilst showcasing flair beyond belief, Alone For The First Time is authentic, new and first and foremost captivating.

This is a performance, a showcase of crazy that does nothing but dazzle.

Whilst songs from this new record will actually fit nicely besides tracks from ‘Old Pine’ and ‘The Lack Long After’, Keep You as a whole, is somewhat forgettable.

It’s stripped back and assured in its simplicity, yet operatic and beautifully composed. Oh, and it really is truly miserable.

This is the work of two guys simply expressing their love of music for the rest of us to enjoy--swooping from ‘60s pop to ‘00s rock while appreciating everything in between--and what a loveable collection of work it is.

If you’re new to Trail of Dead, this might be a good place to begin your investigations, and if you’ve lost track of them since their critical and commercial peak, then ‘Sound Of The Silk’ and IX as a whole is as good a way as you’ll find to rediscover this consistently fantastic band.

It is a work that demonstrates how sheer and utter horror can be turned into music, and while that may not appeal to the majority, the fact that someone is brave enough to do it is really quite brilliant.

The vocals are rather Thurston, too, like a chain-smoking Scrappy Doo, and structurally each song on The Best Day follows a specifically Thurstony pattern; all shimmery build-ups and thrashing bar chords, and deadpan vocals thudding solemnly along the top of it all.

It’s a sensitive and technically more profound outing.

This far into his career Mark Lanegan was unlikely to start making albums that are any less than engaging, but it’s still testament to his creativity and love of his art that ‘Phantom Radio’ is such a successful departure from bluesy rock and roll.

His sophomore full-length is at times uninspired and leaves an emptiness in the gut.

he 2 Bears have once again triumphed at what they do best, serving up a vibrant and joyous take on the music that has shaped them.

The only sore-thumb is lead single ‘How Can You Really’, which feels far too polished for the lo-fi and experimental feel of the album. Apart from that, though, this is a record of magnificent magnitude and one that’s audacious as hell.

Sure, it’s a sound that at times can be guilty of slipping into little more than a background beat; the kind of thing you’d half listen to at two in the morning on Kiss100 cruising down a deserted motorway. This is not necessarily bad, just evidence of a sound that reflects the era it embodies.

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

We Come From The Same Place, then, is a delightful record, catchy enough to keep the listener’s attention, and with enough substance for them to return to it time and time again.

It’s this confidence that really shines throughout the album. Ware’s vocals are at the forefront, no longer hidden amongst a cloud of heavy electronics.

There must have been temptation to settle into a groove--gorgeous grooves, too--but by rebelling against themselves, Coyes and Dunis have been handed the ultimate lease of life.

It’s not a light listen, that’s a given, and Frye’s perplexing outlook on everything is the record’s only consistency over nine tracks. But those open-minded enough to explore Frye’s dystopian world of disgust and despair will find themselves ultimately wearing a shit-eating grin by the time it’s all over.

From what they’ve cooked up here, it’s hard to imagine hearing a record this immersive and mesmerising from anyone else.

This is hyperactive music, pushed to its limits.

Whilst work on Radiohead’s ninth album may soon become priority, the assurance with which this album has been constructed shows that this is no trivial side project.

Taiga is more of an achievement than that; it’s the mark of someone who has truly taken their time over their work. Cooped up in a friend’s holiday home in Washington, Nika Roza Danilova crafted a small slice of perfection.

It’s the sound of meeting someone for the first time, pulses racing, love rising up --that’s not best expressed in pure formula. Caribou has successfully managed to see past sense, instead opting with an instinct that tends to produce dazzling results.

Free of statements and the man’s desire to make every record some kind of grand manifesto, Tomorrow’s Modern Boxes is a mini-triumph that’s only occasionally tarnished.

In short, it sounds like Weezer. Those magic chord changes, the wiry guitar licks, Rivers Cuomo’s awkward, faltering vocals--these may be brand new songs, but they’re all so immediately familiar that, as the title may suggest, they create one almighty aural comfort blanket.

V For Vaselines has been released a few months too late, for V For Vaselines is a summer album.

It’s nice enough to pass the time with, but certainly not a staple record worth revisiting time and time again.

Whilst a fun record, there’s only one issue remains, the fact that it’s often hard to connect with something so unabashedly honest.

Goat are making true, sludged up psychedelia that seems to come from a new, specially cultivated brain-lobe.

Indiana successfully abuses the boundaries of genre to create a melancholic tome of songs that dares to be inventive from its first steps to its dying moments.

It’s a breathless record, one that threatens to last an eternity--such is the speed and dazzling depth at which James expresses himself.

‘Jaded’ undoubtedly brings with it a glimmer of hope in an album that ultimately comes up short in delivering the fusion of intensity and melody that has served GRMLN so well before.

It’s a far braver album than his debut. Chaotic, experimental, but oddly refined, it looks like Aaron Jerome has released one of 2014’s most exciting albums.

Encyclopedia is the sound of The Drums trying to find their feet once again, an endeavour not yet fully accomplished.

Too Bright is a diverse, multi-faceted and all-absorbing slice of sheer mastery.

It’s 28 minutes of thrashy, unadulterated skate punk and is a knockout from start to finish.

Those looking for 24/7 simple, saccharine sun and smiles may be jarred in a few odd points; but the rest of us can enjoy the added punch and intensity that Be Slowly brings to the table.

Beyond the flute solos and mind-blowing euphemisms, there’s rich invention behind This Is All Yours.

Fair Youth is the perfect example of how to get post-rock instrumental music right.

Masters of their craft, this grand exploration could probably go with some cutting down and honing exercised, but these are fresh faces heading out into the great unknown.

Another Language’ opener ‘New Topia’ is quite starkly different to their early work, losing much of the dark overtones in favour of a gentle build and furious, ecstatic release. From a distance, it’s the kind of no-holds-barred heavy rock sound that Mogwai made their own, but This Will Destroy You take it a step further, pushing the whole recording into distortion.

It’s a characteristic success and a massive delight to the fans that their return as a three-piece yields something as excellent as El Pintor.

Equally, whilst there are no real lows on the album, the highs are equally not of the sky-scraping variety, ‘Let Go’ ending the album on a quiet if easily forgettable note.

Mazes confirm themselves as one of the most exciting British bands currently around. This is the result of what happens when three unique and brilliant minds are given the right facilities they need to make their vision happen.

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

At Best Cuckold is so highly polished that it feels a little lacking in the kind of blindsided naivety that comes hand in hand with romance.

One blast of The Physical World and BANG, the doubt is gone.

TOPS are a rare band that have an covalent bonding chemistry with one another, and the results are a bright, sparkling album that continues their legacy as some of the best revivalists around.