The events of two years ago might have left Cullen dejected, but he’s managed to spin beauty out of those bad times.

Doherty’s latest solo effort sounds very much like a solid Peter solo album; rambling studio chat snippets, mentions of Arcadia and all. You know how it goes.

As an album, it's quite a varied piece of work, despite never really emerging from its shell.

Sure, these glossy throwbacks to eighties synth-pop, soul and funk may not be as innovative as anything on Temple’s previous albums, but he does them incredibly well, and it'd be a fool who doesn't give them a go.

‘Raising The Dead’ is a hopeful and tender ode to finding attributes of his late father in his newborn daughter. ‘Wandering Aengus’, meanwhile, is a Yeats-inspired piece of trumpet-covered beauty that sums up the record perfectly--peaceful, lush and well worth the wait.

Far from a disaster, Ben Khan’s long-awaited debut is a necessary one, feeling like a cleansing of the palate.

It’s only in the moments with somebody else in the driving seat that The Anonymous Nobody shines.

Atari Teenage Riot have made this their most accessible album yet.

This is the sound of a songwriter in transition.

For an overwhelming portion of this Ryan Adams-produced record, La Sera just sound a bit too polite, and lacking in the smirking mischief of previous releases.

The result is a rocket-fuelled silver screen roller coaster.

It’s a perfectly pleasant ride to go along with him on, too, and given that ‘Turn Blue’ sounded a tired effort pretty much from the get go, this return to his roots will hopefully bode well for the band when they eventually reconvene.

It doesn’t always quite hit those high notes, but the pair have set out to create a sometimes elusive feeling of connection. Its sheer scope alone means there’s likely to be something here that will undoubtedly resonate.

Julia’s vocals are still the centre-piece here but they take a more playful turn and, at nine songs long, the record serves as a short but promising introduction to a band still in their relative infancy.

Like many other soundtracks, ‘Fantasy’ creates a mood - nostalgic; euphoric - and there’s a clear thread throughout that ties these thirteen tracks together. But soundtracks are also often intended to feature in the background, and ultimately ‘Fantasy’ too easily fades into it.

As a record, it lacks a coherent identity.

With its muggy, lo-fi atmosphere, Be Your Own King works best at its most carefree.... [But] The tail end of the record does come to a bit of a standstill.

Given time to develop and augment their tribal leanings, Ibeyi could and likely will prosper--but in current form it feels a little to offer a half-hearted hand on something more sacred.

Named after a match-winning wrestling move, Coup De Grace isn’t quite going to do that, but it’ll get Miles through to the next round

Express Yourself is an excellent return showing that Diplo has saved enough creative juice for himself and, despite the whole host of guests featured throughout, the EP feels very much like Diplo's party.

Pure Bathing Culture have created an ambient watercolour wash, but leave you fruitlessly longing for a brave splash of boldness across the canvas.

The album blossoms when his delivery matches the tone of the music.

While there certainly are some massive tunes in here, there are too many other instances that make you wonder what might have been.

It doesn’t quite match the intensity and impact of his debut.

For Toro y Moi enthusiasts, this will be nothing new, but for the rest of us 'June 2009' is an altogether pleasant blast from the recent past.

For the most part, this is a record about chasing a specific kind of pop aesthetic instead, which largely comes at the detriment of any kind of real connection.

Despite the album featuring several enjoyable moments, though, the listener is left feeling that it’s somewhat rambling and unfocused, and could possibly have benefited from the band leaving themselves more time for their ideas to gestate.

Maze Of Woods occupies a different plain, a more embryonic one that finds its stand out moments in a subtler way.

The record’s constant hums and oohs at times whitewash even Algiers’ loftiest intentions, but the moments of clarity amongst all the murk mark the trio out as something staunchly individual.

Whimsical songs about stormy weather and journeying across the United States are sweet enough, but Max Bloom’s virtuous desire for simple arrangements and affected naivety is often to his detriment, sounding pedestrian at best.

There are moments that long for something that once was, but those moments are fleeting. In its own terms, PersonA is largely an impressive album but there’s still some way to go yet.

At times it gets a little too gentle, the warm soup of instruments and Pulidio’s soothing voice blending together into a indistinguishable slush, but when it holds together it’s a pleasant trip.

Resort allows their promise to be condensed into a single release, and if a debut album follows soon, the momentum could take them to big things.

Whilst they haven’t stumbled at the unshakeable hurdle of the difficult second album, the ‘Wow’ factor of their debut has since diminished. Thankfully, there’s enough youthful grit and promise on show here to suggest that that spectacular something is on the horizon.

Just like humanity’s primordial obsession with fire, Sky Swimming is difficult to disengage with.

It flits from doomy death marches to frenetic, fuzzy psych rock freakouts like the fantastic ‘Choco Plumbing’, while indulging in some quirkier elements including a stomping cover of The Beatles ‘I Want To Tell You’ and a sweet, Casio keyboard run-through of American standard ‘Take Me Out to the Ballgame’.

Full-bodied production is at the heart, though takes nothing away from the more laid back moments.

The big floor-filling moments are in there, particularly on the gripping one-two of ‘Staring at All This Handle’ and ‘Face to Face with Spoon’, but they feel incongruous in the thick of what is otherwise a woozy comedown of an album that fails to cover a great deal of new ground.

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.

It would be difficult for any band to return with new music after 35 years of absence but with Citizen Zombie the always challenging Pop Group have succeeded in returning with something vibrant, urgent and necessary.

After a debut that spent much of its time slinking like crawlers out in the shadows, it’s intriguing--if slightly disconcerting--to see Purity Ring in a warmer light.

Minus The Bear may have returned to the style that made their name, but there is still enough mileage in that sound to ensure that 'Infinity Overhead' is a marked improvement on their previous album.

Semicircle won’t seem like a giant leap for the band but is yet another upbeat, buoyant addition to their canon, injected with an even greater sense of community spirit.

It's a 'take it or leave it' kind of record, but invest in Cut Copy's deranged aims and it'll feel like being part of a free-spirited cult.

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.

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.

An exhaustingly incoherent listen.

Taken on its own merit Rituals is a bright and bombastic record that harbours a darker underbelly. ... And though there’s a chance it will alienate a small portion of established fanbase, it will certainly earn the band more than it loses.

Although this album is unlikely to change any existing opinion about a band whose left of centre sensibilities have always meant successfully evading wider acceptance, there is enough richness in the material here to merit far more than classing Fellow Travelers as a mere novelty.

With room for refinement this isn’t LFY’s crowning glory by any stretch, but it’s a purposeful record that shows a trio holding on to the makings of something quite special.

Definitely an album of two halves, by the time you hit ‘Ferris Wheel’ and ‘Destroyer’ the record drifts off into Dylan-isms that while are nice enough, don’t carry the same idiosyncratic weight of ‘Singing Saw’ or ‘Drunk and On A Star’ that will some day carve out a classic from this hugely promising talent.

It’s dark, atmospheric and shoegazey--and as a sonic canvas it works well. But several of the songs struggle to say anything that’s not already been said elsewhere on the album.

The result is an album that’s pleasant but kind of passes you by, and for a singer that was always so charismatic, being just ordinary feels like a bit of a bummer.

There’s a sense of comfort running throughout that does result in repeated motifs, fancy tricks that have either appeared on previous LPs or within the same eight songs.

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.

Still Corners’ dream-pop takes on a nightmarish hue with snatches of ominous electro and brutally honest lyrics. Their time away has served them well on this new record.

Genres fall by the wayside as krautrock melts into a studied and dense electronica, and pulls either towards the tenseness of post-punk or the hazy surrealism of shoegaze.

They’re untouchable in one sense, but they don’t look to be building on more than solid foundations. Threading together moments of true beauty is a nagging sense that there’s so much of this parallel universe they’ve yet to explore.

The lack of time taken for ii to form itself--no weeks off to go back and reconsider minor changes, no reigning in the level of experimentation--gives the album the feel of a jam, but without falling into an undefinable mess.

Excess and saturation can only get a band so far without a knowing wink to match, and at the moment, it’s that mischievous streak of personality that feels slightly absent.

Far from snug or welcoming, the Gang’s overpoweringly thick-sounding ninth album is as refreshingly abstract as anything they’ve done before.

Competent. Completely forgettable.

It's just a little more grown up.

Their fireside intimacy remains consistent throughout, despite candid storytelling, as they ask for respite in response to an intrusive sex dream on ‘Hotel TV’, and endure cyclical break-up-make-up tension on ‘The Actor’. And even in their more minimal arrangements - see ‘Moth Song’ and ‘I’ll Find A Way’ - the group transmute emotion through their harmonic unison.

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

The literary heft of the record leaves slim pickings for pure listening. The familiarity of the vocal line on ‘He’ provides a satisfactory hook, ‘She’ is dreamy and melancholy, while ‘In The Green Chapel’ combines Hayden’s still-unmistakeable vocal with a softly-plucked guitar line that bears similarity to New Order’s ‘True Faith’.

While it may flag a bit in its latter moments though, All Nerve still has moments where the magic of this particular, iconic incarnation of The Breeders feels recaptured.

It has a tendency to be superfluous--a stray tabla rhythm is never too far away--but ultimately it’s a fun record that’s clearly born of love and dedication. That’s something to be commended.

An indie-disco hit, or a gorgeous ballad are only a blink away from dead in the water mediocrity and if you’re not patient with the album you might be tempted to write the whole thing off. Don’t though. It’s worth it.

Tourist In This Town’s strengths are also its weaknesses though. The visceral, in-the-moment recording at times gives the record a life and character that feels charming and personal, but elsewhere feels a little too rushed, and being a little heavy-handed in the use of synths and backing results in sensory overload and slightly jarring instrumental clashes.

Billie Joe and Norah’s frolic into the Everlys’ back-catalogue makes a rewarding listen and serves its purpose mighty well: to retell an old American classic that deserves re-telling.

Eclipse falls flat too often--eclipsing, some might say, the stadium-worthy songs we know he can achieve.

It’s a bit like listening to someone attempting to fit a round peg into a square hole. But while he might have occasionally bitten off a little more than he can chew, there’s still undeniably some moments with serious bite here.

It’s another collection of decent, cheerful indie-pop.

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.)

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.

Their newest full-length isn’t by any means leaps and bounds from what they’ve done before, but when they’ve got their brand of metallic pop so well-honed, why would we hope for anything else?

Fast forward several years, and we find Will, her first record since 2013’s ‘Nepenthe’ both taking her music further into more straightforward terrain while remaining doggedly, indelibly weird.

It is far too adult oriented rock and middle of the road to be anything but the sound of a band coasting, rather than making waves.

There are just a few too many of these aggressive, tumultuous ballads and the result is each one loses some of its power every time another crashes into being. Moments where LUH lose their way are compensated for by the flashes of brilliance littered throughout.

A lot of it, like album closer ‘Homesick’ featuring none--other than Coldplay’s Chris Martin, feels overthought and calculated. It’s a shame because those moments where Dua Lipa truly shines are those moments where she was allowed to just be herself.

While ultimately a step forward - most notably, in its introduction of greater lyrical vulnerability and richer sounds most notable - a little more cohesion wouldn’t have gone amiss.

Working Girl isn’t the sleekest of albums but the stumbles and scrapes that Little Boots overcomes are a testament to her desire for change.

Collaborations here, there and everywhere, for the most part Kaytranada pulls the strings. But it is a work that threatens to find him in the shadows, leaving the spotlight to bigger names.

Hopelessness is an exercise in provocation. It’s anti-apathy, determined to stir thought, even if that’s total disgust and dejection.

Zayn’s fourth is admirable in its emotional mining, is rich in execution and soul, and indeed his brain-scratching melodic riffs will have die-hard fans blushing - but even on this, what we’re told is his ‘most vulnerable’ release, the treading of the long-trodden, stripped-back, ex-boyband desire path leaves the record wanting for just a little more Zayn sparkle.

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.

Although Upside Down Mountain could do with a little more lyrical variety and structural experimentation, it is strong.

While Japandroids have always walked a tightrope between classic rock and straight-up punk, Near To The Wild Heart Of Life finds their footing wobbling for the first time.

Unfortunately, that sense of immediacy isn’t always present. Sometimes it shows that From Deewee was rehearsed many times and things get a little bit too mechanical in the middle. It’s still easy to find yourself getting wrapped up in it though and, when it hits, it’s easy to hear why Soulwax are hailed as such innovators.

Unfortunately, although that slight detachment feels pretty good in the midst of listening, much like tucking into an ice cream cone with more than a few sprinkles, you might get brain freeze trying to recall some of the tunes afterwards.

‘When You See Yourself’ sounds like a jolt back into something potentially promising: there could still be life in the old Kings yet.

His outlook on the world is no happier than it was before, but the lack of a bigger band brings out a fresher sound in the Destroyer canon. It loses some energy in that regard, especially compared to the magnificent ‘Kaputt’, but it does show that, with 13 albums under his belt, Bejar still has plenty to say and even more fantastical ways to say it.

While each track is meticulously crafted, you can’t help but feel a sense of familiarity and perhaps repetition settle in the last half of the album.

In short, if you're a Dashboard Confessional fan then you'll find plenty to enjoy here. Full-blown pretty-boy emotion dished out by a musician as adept at pulling the heart strings with big, simple feelings as anyone you might care to name.

Throughout the album, hidden instrumental flourishes surface with repeat plays, though some stay too buried. Elsewhere, the decadent production swallows her breathy voice (‘The Answer’, ‘Hold Fire’).

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

There are very few moments on Harlequin that don’t click either sonically or thematically. Izenberg has established himself as a gifted songwriter with a firm grasp on the strange side of things, and his beguiling debut plays like the nexus of Mac DeMarco and Anna Meredith.