Throughout, ‘American Noir’ delivers a vibrant and fitting homage to the recently departed Jim Steinman; the eight tracks harking to his musical opus.

With ‘Thirstier’, Torres has delivered her most varied set of songs yet; trying on so many different costumes suits her.

While ‘Take The Sadness…’ may not be a bolshy, career-defining move, it is a shimmering, reflective gem, hoping to offer a little relief from the darkness.

Indulgent by design but illuminated with imagination, it takes a few listens for the LP’s diamonds to truly shine, but when they do, they really shine bright.

Setting such a high bar on your debut can be a poisoned chalice but Dave weathers the storm with his astute penmanship, impeccable musical taste and cool, collected delivery.

While ‘Yellow’ mixes it up nicely with freak-outs, group chants, P-funk and mellowing R&B, it is lyrically where the album wearies.

While more of a slow burn than his previous efforts, ‘Gold-Diggers Sound’ sees Leon Bridges shine brighter as a songwriter, as an artist and as a man than ever.

‘Immunity’ was a shoulder to cry on, a promise that it will all be okay, eventually. ‘Sling’ feels like that “eventually” coming true.

‘Hotel Surrender’ must surely be one of the most cathartic records of the year. From the laid-back cool of opener ‘Oh Me Oh My’, it seems the Faker brand of chill beats is back. The self-production adds to the organic nature of the record, and is often quite bold, with strings and saxophones aplenty.

Soothing to the extreme, but still with enough variation not to lose attention, he’s on to a winner.

On ‘Baw Baw Black Sheep’, Rejjie Snow reaches for a more conceptual take on his laid-back sound, but stumbles on the execution.

Wavves have created their most varied collection so far.

By taking the time to delve back into his rap upbringing, he’s progressed further, gleefully throwing a ton of ideas at the wall and finding that nearly all of them stick.

There’s just enough instrumentation to add depth and texture to Vince’s characteristically excellent delivery, but the rapper still stands front and centre, allowing a less bombastic tone to shine. ... If you arrive looking for the hooks of ‘Norf Norf’ or the explosive chemistry of ‘BagBak’ you could be leaving half empty-handed. But if you’re here for Vince Staples, you might just see more of him than ever.

‘It Won’t Always Be Like This’ is inexplicably reanimating the era’s penchant for plodding, drive-time indie-rock.

A sense of an increasingly assured outfit emerges, shifting tempo with offbeat irregularity, their earlier inclination towards indie-leaning jangle-pop falling by the wayside, substituted with a definition that sets the band on an ever more consistent path.

Broadening the creative scope, Half Waif is given the space to breathe both lyrically and musically. ‘Mythopoetics’ glides from the stripped back piano and layered vocals of opener ‘Fabric’ and the intimate closer ‘Powder’ to the electronic flourishes that have elevated Nandi’s sound across four prior records.

While its inconsistencies might betray the circumstances of its creation, it’s comforting to know that The Go! Team’s defiant experimentalism remains undiminished.

On ‘Utopian Ashes’, Bobby Gillespie and Jehnny Beth breathe new life into an old formula, and surface triumphant.

Punchy, fun and beautifully constructed, ‘Pink Noise’ is the triumphant sound of Laura Mvula finding her feet. A career-defining return that most artists can only dream of; pure synth-pop ecstasy.

‘Contender’ is a marked step forwards from one of Britain’s more endearingly idiosyncratic indie rock outfits.

Throughout the record, Doja has the method for seeing soaring stats down: Instagram caption ready lyrical quips, a flurry of famous pals (The Weeknd and JID also appear), and an effortless kaleidoscopic pop soundtrack backing it all up.

On the whole, the impact of their whip-smart offerings is striking, throughout the album’s staggering seventeen tracks, it does become easy to get a little lost.

Endearing and relatable without ever lapsing into total fondue, Faye Webster knows exactly how to roll with life’s punches, how to find the humour in a vulnerable moment. She knows she’s funny, but we think she’s pretty smart.

At every moment ‘Home Video’ presents a vivid snapshot into an upbringing that fundamentally defines Lucy Dacus’ adulthood. In each tale she finds both loss and hope, a musical representation of the intricate jigsaw of life.

For all the immediacy of these tracks, the core of others can get lost: on ‘Pass’, she perseveres through changing seasons and a tornado, yet ultimately a high-pitched, burbling synthesiser is the obstacle that proves too much, distracting from the atmosphere that’s been so carefully cultivated.

The material on offer ranges from the piano balladry of ‘The Cruise Room’ to the ‘80s synth pop of ‘Best In Me’ - in other words, every flavour John Grant has to offer. And that’s an exciting prospect on paper, so it’s a shame that the record frequently suffers from songs too long by half.

This is not quite Modest Mouse at their best, but they’re not a million miles away from it, either.