Packed with brilliance, ambition and warmth, SVIIB may be the full stop on the band’s work together, but it’s an album that will stand as the perfect goodbye.

Human Ceremony isn’t anywhere near fault-free, but its charm arrives when the trio get ahead of themselves.

For the most part it works--a few repeated listens and the melodies and hooks bury themselves in the brain. But on tracks like ‘Car’ and ‘Be Apart’, Maine’s determination to retain that sense of despair can overshadow everything and cause some slight desensitivity.

In the end, this is an album with a whimsical construct that fails to extend its ideas and live up to its musical promise.

What’s most impressive is in how Cole’s story peaks towards the end. Instead of dragging you down or being overbearing, Is The Is Are’s tale finds stark truths when it closes.

Resort allows their promise to be condensed into a single release, and if a debut album follows soon, the momentum could take them to big things.

A record that feels cathartic but never ruthless, freeing but still subtle.

You’ll be hard pressed to find a better document of troubled teenagehood than Vile Child.

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.

The visceral imagery and headlines that ushered in Suicide Songs ends up serving to hold it back a little; an album that’s excellent at times, but which arrived with preconceptions so strong that could never be matched.

Your Friend’s unusual combination of the ultra-real with the unnatural world of electronic manipulation makes for a slightly unsettling final product.

Unflinchingly honest, Wet don’t specialise in happy endings, but they’re always telling a good story.

Too often This is Acting is steeped in unimaginative cliche, and leans too heavily on familiar pop tropes in a way that her previous solo albums did not.

Too much of the album’s mid-section is plagued by Kele’s whimper, and the experimentation with guitar sounds sometimes prioritises method over melody, but there’s diamonds in the rough that shine as bright as the best of Bloc Party.

Rooted in its own creation, Night Thoughts is expansive and enchanting.

Infinite Summer is the classic case of an album that’s so fully-melded, so self-composed in its identity, that you get the nagging sense of déjà vu, that you’ve been here before, and yet it’s something brand new.

The Waiting Room is reserved and considered, yet you still come out of the other end feeling like you’ve run the emotional gamut; in that respect, at least, you have to recognise it as Staples’ strongest set of songs for a good long while.

Although the lyrical themes aren’t necessarily treading new ground--and at times sound feel more 1970s than 2010s--New View is the most self-assured realisation of the Friedberger’s delicately eloquent and intelligent musical talent.

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

They may have left behind their haunted house roots, which might rub some people off the wrong way, but Chairlift have found themselves creating something far more barmy, bold and exhilarating than ever before.

They claim to be writing about politics, death and sex on this record, but Songs For Our Mothers offers so little that’s actually new. There’s no light to shine, no tales to be told and no ground to be broken. Nothing to see here.

Harsh, aggressive, hungry, and urgent, Adore Life is everything a Savages album should be. Unexpectedly - and this proves its greatest success.

An incredibly accomplished effort from a band who have truly found their feet.

An unpredictable but spectacular ride through pop, rock and everything in between, it’s hard not to bowled over by Urie’s efforts yet again.

Not to Disappear is intentionally difficult to stomach. It finds a dark pit to nestle in and then digs deeper. But few acts could deliver these unceasingly grim details with such majesty.

They stick to their guns, and they end up emphasising their rough-around-the-edges strengths.

From challenging, in your face exploration to beautifully light-as-air soulful ballads, there’s a constant idea that there’s no clue as to where the next track will swerve. There’s a feeling that Bowie is having fun too.

Each track feels like a different corner of Pusha T’s mind, all coming together to form a complete brain, glimmering with glitz and glamour on the surface and exploring darkness and deep thought below. If this is ‘The Prelude’, imagine what Pusha T can do with the rest.