6 Feet Beneath The Moon broods, spits confidence and sits, thinks just as much.

Admittedly, her debut has been a bit of a long time coming--with last minute changes delaying until 2015--but with her songwriting already sounding accomplished and confident, it’s been time well spent.

Peckham three-piece Little Cub make electronic music with a human heart, Dominic Gore’s observant lyrics adding depth to the analogue synth lines and snapping beats that propel them.

There is a mesmeric quality to the production on the soothing ‘Vista’, while ‘I Don’t Know What To Save’ builds from a sparse, almost whispered vocal delivery to a euphoric chorus.

Much like the process of inner work, ‘TELL DEM IT’S SUNNY’ is gently transformative; it channels patience and expansion, ultimately speaking to the heart as a continuation of the unending path that Greentea has shown listeners thus far.

Torn between old habits and a limber, more flexible stance, this fifth album stands as a misty mix of downtempo vibes with sombre, often questioning lyrics - Real Estate strike out here, thriving in the art of surprise and subversion.

There’s a deep hip hop pulse to many of the tracks, which sometimes transform themselves into jungle beats, usually accompanied by galactic synth stabs and waves of sound that transport the listener to a cosmic plane.

The Terror stares back at you like panicked faces underneath a frozen lake, visible, but distant. It’s giant metallic bugs filling an apocalyptic sky and blotting out a blood red sun.

‘OUI, LSF’ is a storming return that suggests that, far from having run out of steam, the possibilities for Les Savy Fav are again endless.

A mish-mash of sounds, picked up magpie-style to create something which consistently skirts the line between warm and distant, familiar and disconcerting, hypnotic and, well, irritating.

Predictably, then, it's all too easy to 'find' (read: go searching for subconsciously or otherwise) shifts in the Welsh singer-songwriter's sound on this follow-up.

2014 saw many bands trying to recreate sounds of the past in their own way, but with Viet Cong, the band are remoulding genre conventions and confirming that they’re not settling for anything other than pushing the boundaries.

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.

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.

Julien Baker and TORRES are both immersive, insightful songwriters in their own right; together, their partnership is a resounding testament to resilience and tentative hope.

The resulting back-and-forth between herself and Ellery - her honeyed tones set against his unmistakably raspy roars - is enthralling, and holds up regardless of musical backdrop. There’s low-key moments of genuine menace (‘Black Sun Rising’, the disquieting churn of ‘Serenity Says’) and some major key nods towards anthemic territory, too.

Contagious and sarcastic, in-your-face and self-aware yet ultimately all about cutting loose, Wavves have offered up an album that proves themselves as leaders in the punk pack.

Colourful, brilliantly messy, and a fully committed hodge-podge of psych and spacecake croons, ‘Awaken, My Love!’ is unlikely to shed further light on exactly what Childish Gambino is at heart, but by now, Glover’s erratic approach is surely part of his central appeal.

Whilst it's not the most cohesive electronic debut, there are some interesting ideas grounded in 'Order Of Noise' that are a jumping off point for Vessel's later material. This darker, more apocalyptic realm of electronic music is often cold and uninviting; sometimes that can work to its advantage but here, Gainsborough just falls short.

Crucially, this project feels born from a pure place of fandom and community; much greater than the sum of its parts, it’s a meeting of minds that definitely feels worth the wait.

This is a decent effort made frustrating by Segall’s prodigious talent.

The Savage Heart couldn't be more vital. What The Jim Jones Revue do is good. The way they do it is nothing short of brilliant.

What you’re left with is near 40 minutes of slow and sweaty seduction executed exquisitely by weeping guitar.

The sense of optimism is infectious, and even with plenty of stiff competition for the title, The Endless Shimmering might be the year’s most exhilarating post-rock album.

There’s an effervescent sense of fun that fizzes throughout here on an LP heavily indebted to the work of Kathleen Hanna, both in its sound and its politics.

Granted, at some points it does feel a little unrelenting, but the sheer ferocity of this record illustrates a band intently focused on the future, and breaking through to the next level.

For a record titled ‘Messy’ it could ironically do with being a little less neat and tidy.

Dave Longstreth conjures up something resembling a clear picture from all the record’s wildly disparate elements, and ‘Dirty Projectors’ serves to unify his most experimental moments with the door-opening impact of ‘Bitte Orca’.