Through lulling endless days to fretting thoughts about the future, they remain the same bunch, capable of making the impossible sound almost too easy.

Their knack for storytelling--which frontman Andrew Savage has always sported no matter what project he’s been involved in--has matured, providing extra strength to the slow jams this time around.

There’s an altogether calmer atmosphere on display here, that in its beauty forgoes some of the immediacy that characterised her earlier catalogue’s stand-out moments.

While Circa Waves are stepping up, they’re just as confident in stripping things back.

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.

There’s a real sense of space, Squirrel Flower already showing herself to be an artist comfortable in her own skin. They aren’t all hushed ballads though, the instrumentation even verges on grungy at times, but make no mistake, there’s an absolute flow here. An accomplished first full-length.

‘CollXtion I’ posed Allie as an exciting new songwriter, but this record fails to push boundaries in the same way.

Seeking Thrills sees Georgia lean in much more eagerly on the late-night grooves that have been supporting her breakthrough. ’Started Out’ and ‘About Work The Dancefloor’ make for solid, established openers, but there’s no shortage of other ideas that make complete sense in the soundtrack of modern lives.

An extended gap since their last full-length outing has resulted in their sharpest raft of material since ‘Cease to Begin’.

As a starting point, So It Goes is a damn fine one.

Their knack for incredible hooks is still there (see ‘Holiday’, the very definition of an earworm), but the effortless fun seems to have fallen by the wayside.

This debut sets a nice, if mostly safe, blueprint.

It’s difficult to imagine the results being this good if Cross had limited studio time, or if she tried to record vocal takes with strangers listening in.

Kurt takes a leaf out of Courtney’s book and wears his heart on his sleeve, searching for introspection and delving into his deepest and most personal lyrics to date--about love, loss and everything in between.

The Silver Gymnasium lacks some of whatever it was that made previous albums like 'Black Sheep Boy' and 'The Stage Names' so special.

[Sun] is never less than intriguing, and more than often, grabs you by the heartstrings and pulls you in.

For listeners craving substance served side-by-side with flash, Lower Dens’ world is one worth exploring. The band may be at their most accessible, but they’re not about to make it easy.

While there’s a constant sense of fun, there’s also always a consciousness about who, or what the Rolling Stones are.

There’s a slight irony in the fact that an album so jam-packed is entitled ‘Silence Is Loud’, but the remarkable feat of Nia Archives’ debut is that it somehow never feels too much or too choppy; for all its referential nods and sonic variation, this is still a project that is cohesively, distinctly her.

A ten-track album that combines both of their styles to create something that doesn’t sound quite like either of them.

At their core, Cymbals Eat Guitars is still the same band as before--just bigger and bolder, more sharpened and focused. And they’re better for it.

A far way away from debut ‘Chaleur humaine’, yet just as unafraid, ’PARANOÏA, ANGELS, TRUE LOVE’ is like no other exploration of grief - a new magnum opus.

Much like their previous releases, Run Around the Sun is a collection of delightful, sunshine-soaked fuzz-pop.

La Femme toss so many weird and interesting ideas against the wall, that for every gorgeous moment that sticks, there’s an awkward miss.

McMorrow has shaken off the folk singer with a guitar tag to give us an album pregnant with intrigue, creativity and diversity.

Unexpected, indulgent, and an absolute joy, ‘Metronomy Forever’ is a prophecy to get behind.

Lewd, bulshy, and gaudier than a kitsch ornaments warehouse with a sprung glitter pipe, Rub is a return to form, and hideously brilliant, garish good fun.

Sincerely, Future Pollution is in some ways a perfect representation of our conflicted, uncertain times, but it also makes the record a challenging, uncompromising listen.