The vocal interplay meshes with the restless instrumentation and some of the most layered and considered storytelling that anyone could ask for. For an agitated, hyper collection of weird songs about made up or distorted topics TFS come achingly close to the total package.

Jack Cooper’s soft vocals are so understated that for long sections it feels like an instrumental record, but this only adds to the album’s blissful allure. It’s a delicate piece of work that somehow it manages to feel fully-formed at the same time. And it’s this contradiction that makes it such a compelling piece of work.

Call it chill wave, call it dream pop, call her a bedroom producer - this album’s full of enough variety and adventure to make such generalisations moot. A real triumph.

The Center Won’t Hold is by far their most stylised, radio-friendly work to date; produced by St Vincent, Annie Clark’s icy sheen and dark seduction is all over the record.

It’s early to say, and its bold for sure, but there are a fair few legendary bands out there that were never quite as good as The Murder Capital are right now.

All in all, a confident second album that showcases why Shura should be on everyone’s radar.

The album is most interesting when it eschews from the guidelines.

The Hold Steady are very much a band for their existing fans. There’s not anything here, whether the bar-room blues of ‘Blackout Sam’ or the jazz hands-aloft ’T-Shirt Tux’ that’s likely to win outsiders over.

This is as tropical and kaleidoscopic as Friendly Fires have ever been. It’s akin to gobbling an entire pack of Fruit Pastilles; colourful, maybe a little sickly, but you sure as hell want to experience it again.

It’s difficult to shake the feeling that the likes of the upbeat ‘Brass Locket’ or the barely-there ‘Hunting Dog’ that this is territory Regan has already long since claimed, and that as good as he is at it, the law of diminishing returns is bound to kick in eventually. Instead, what we need more of is the likes of ‘Glaciers’, all implied menace and thick atmospherics.

It means that AOKOHIO never quite feels as cohesive as Wolf apparently intended it to be, so it’s a good job that the album’s emotional themes do such a good job of providing a throughline and backbone instead.

Unfortunately, none of the later tracks hit with the same urgency as the first few. The album is a fun listen, still, and one that encapsulates that Polaroid summer we’re all after.

Not so much Marika 3.0 as the Marika who was always there, but tougher, stronger and more triumphant than ever.

There’s no faux-earnestness here. Whether Mabel is singing about messy break ups, mental health or empowering herself to move on, High Expectations is effortlessly cool.

Sans-visual accompaniment the album can feel meandering and unfocused. Fortunately, the experimental production and dark atmosphere are compelling in their own right, and ‘Anima’ is ultimately a trip down the rabbit hole worth taking.

With a buoyant and self-aware use of slang that will have you opening up Urban Dictionary, paired with the one-track-per-week release schedule and the songs to back it up, Kim proves herself to be a true millennial pop princess in waiting.

It’s as close an approximation of before as they could possibly get - the result of 12 tracks being plopped out of a Black Keys song generator - but, five years down the line, you hope that people will demand more than that.

A decade on from the pained remoteness of For Emma, Forever Ago, i,i holds the same intimacy and urgency, elevated by years of groundbreaking experimentation.

An album that finds the prodigious artist enjoying himself yet again.

‘Bad Things (That Make You Feel Good)’ sounds like a sped-up take on wholesome pop king Bleachers, while opener ‘Should Be Dancing’ features a half-arsed attempt at pal Alex Turner’s croon. ... A little more humour on Mini Mansions’ third, and they might’ve been able to pull it off.

Dude York are doing absolutely nothing new on Falling, but when they do it this well, the throwback is a welcome one.

There are a couple of fleeting moments (the chorus of ‘Wait’ is a hooky, soaring thing) that remind you of the unabashed earworms that the Kaisers can produce at their best but, for the most part, Duck is actually a bit of a turkey.

Channelling zeitgeisty pop is by no means always a bad thing; but when omitting the earwormy choruses it needs - and removing your own personality in the process, it’s only ever going to fall a bit limp.

Emotional Education is a thoughtful, carefully-constructed synthpop odyssey, based at its core around the vocal harmonisation by Lily Somerville and Megan Marwick and lent some tasteful gloss by production work from The xx collaborator Rodaidh McDonald as well as duo MyRiot.

The musical accompaniment to the installation works perfectly as a concept album, where heady instrumentals and psychedelic pop nuggets are intertwined with swelling strings and a nursery rhyme story narrated by The Clash’s Mick Jones.

A People’s History of Gauche captures both the rotten societal traits and inspiring persistence that is often associated with people on the ground.

While their new guise has them in a more experimental mood - injecting doses of nostalgia all over the shop - it also doesn’t quite possess the same level of clout as before.

It’s rough around the edges, but that’s part of its charm - a testament to the energy and ideas thrown about in such a short space of time, and the vibrancy of collaboration.