While at times ‘Violet…’ shows Lana’s fine lyrical prowess, quotes primed for Tumblr captions, most of the time it’s more sixth former trying their best to impress at their first slam poetry event.

An album trying to survive under the harshest conditions, Angel Guts: Red Classroom is a properly thrilling listen.

‘Petrichor’ is a passion project, all about indulging the kinds of whims that don’t fit the Hawk and a Hacksaw mould. On that front, she’s succeeded.

While All My DemonS is a listen that’s at times varied, interesting and progressive, any connections made here are purely at surface level.

Good Grief marks an important next step in the realisation of their sassy pop character.

The clear direction and production of the album means that while those who enjoyed The Staves’ debut will not be disappointed, there is arguably less of a initial folk sound that was more apparent on their first record.

With more focus, this could have felt quite vital.

Shriek is certainly a considerable statement that opens up endless vistas of possibility for a reinvigorated band.

By all accounts, it’s in the crucible of live performance where this duo excels. But put on record, it all feels a bit lost in translation.

For all its unwieldy eccentricity, Good Sad Happy Bad is still fascinating.

In the grand scheme of things, Sequel To The Prequel is a definite step in a positive direction.

It’s fun, it’s enjoyable and it doesn’t take itself too seriously.

It feels ecclesiastical, like hymns for the digital age.

It’s got moments of music that sound like life. And when the songwriting is interesting and the melodies evocative, what you need is something to keep up what they’ve built.

It’s lighthearted and radio-ready and fun while being marginally original about it, and that’s okay.

Sic Alps is an often fine, often frustrating listen which only succeeds when some flesh is applied to those skinny Californian bones.

As usual, it features some reliably masterful beat work and production, but, at the same time, falls somewhat short in becoming the grand defining statement that its creator was intending it to be.

Basic rhythms, simple synth melodies and the occasional burst of fuzz guitar provide a primitive vehicle for Cameron’s idiosyncratic lyrics, where the record’s real pleasures reside.

That’s not to say that Get Hurt isn’t a good album, with some excellent songs on it. But, if you’re looking for more of the blue collar punk of the band’s early years, you might initially be underwhelmed by what it has to offer.

It can’t match the drive and power of his electric projects by its very nature, so it may well remain a release for the hardcore fans.

Courting The Squall touches and recaps on the ideas which Guy Garvey masters in his romanticisms and balladry, but gloriously glimpses his experimental and playful side.

Although Wasser has perhaps sounded better in the past and too many of the songs stretch past their welcome, The Classic is a welcome addition to Joan As Police Woman's repertoire and a recommended addition to any album collection due to its impressive ability to surprise and innovate as it moves forward.

Distinctly shying away from the commercial, Chad VanGaalen is an explorative soul and although his frightening world is separate from ours, he makes a peaceful journey of it.

The record doesn’t achieve a great deal in saying anything new. It’s far from a disaster, though. ... The main issue with Amnesty (I) is that Crystal Castles needed to say something different.

You’d hope there’d be more new ideas injected in to Simon’s music. As it is however, Migration feels disappointingly close to home.

It’s simply the mark of a record that’s captured them exactly as they are at this moment in time. Although it’s tempting to call Instructions a ‘fascinating document’, it’s probably more accurate to settle for ‘rad record’.

While it can be an emotionally turbulent listen that continually returns to the fracturing of the self and the breaking apart from others, this is also an album that is deeply arresting and vital, a reminder that these ruptures are a part of the rocky terrain of life.

At times, their ambition really clicks into place (the euphoric bounce of ‘Smoking Weed Alone’, for example), but at others, it feels a bit muddled. Their ambition is undoubtedly to be applauded, but this one’s a bit of a mixed bag.