They're a throwback to the eighties heyday of playing around with the familiar shapes and sounds of songs whilst still being, well, listenable and accessible.

Because for all the added atmospherics, the album never feels overcrowded - Daughn Gibson’s haunting baritone always shines through.

The Gotobeds execute a formula of beer-drenched reckless abandon, tense odes to the unloved and loveless. The result is a smart, sharp record to soundtrack the end of the world (or maybe even just a hungover Sunday afternoon.)

Folila's best moments do inadvertently serve as a reminder of how good Amadou & Mariam are without the hired help.

There are basically no odd turns here, no tangents into unexpected territory and certainly nothing at will make you spin your head round for a second glimpse. That being said, it fulfils its remit with consummate ease and you'd be hard pressed to say it's unenjoyable.

At times 'Rant' comes across like a hip church choir having a go at some pop hits. Yet, in the main, this is a fun and genuinely touching set of songs.

Mason's voice is lazier and more monotone than it ever was on the debut (a good thing) but the infectious nuances and off-beat concepts in the music are still not quite at their 2005 levels.

The Los Angeles singer-songwriter spinning tales of dark, often questionable situations in a barely-there whisper atop folkish instrumentation that owes similar debts to the city’s famed ‘70s scene and Elliott Smith. With yes, witty lyrical asides that jar smartly with his seemingly timeless sound.

As an introduction to the man and a myth he’s already constructing it’s a very enticing and exciting one, if there’s more to come at this level from him true classics await.

While there are certainly no grand overarching themes designed to tie the whole album together, the collection has a coherent unity both musically and lyrically which more conceptually defined and led works would struggle to match.

Lady Wood isn’t an album made for radio or easy digestion. The hooks are there but, like Tove herself, they aren’t succumbing expectations.

Dave’s voice holds up well throughout, showing vulnerability. It makes for an exciting, experimental, laid back 11 tracks, and we can only hope this isn’t the last solo work from him.

Replicating the 60s psych sound is something that is often tried but rarely successful, yet this Kiwi trio suit these influences that they so obviously wear on their sleeves.

Turning the lens on himself, it’s more introspective, touching on relationships and self-worth without ever losing that smirk and shrug in his delivery.

The songs themselves are invariably linked through a series of euphoric crossovers and trippy interludes that create a strong sense of life within the music.

With Liam’s solo career on a high, it’ll be interesting to see where more experimentation leads him next - although somewhat of a mixed bag here, it’s thrilling to see him stray from the formula he knows too well.

It’s another reinvention from the prolific outfit, a joyous ten-track delight, just in time for (our) summer.

It’s already been a long journey for this band, but it feels like they’re only just beginning to take the right track.

II is their finest work yet and cements the fact that Moderat have developed into a dance act whose existence should never have even been questioned in the first place.

Something On High is earnest, intelligent and more than anything, sincere.

They didn’t rush into Operator, and the compelling finished article is proof that patience pays dividends in the album game. Other rock debuts this year may well prove more immediately accessible, but few are likely to be as thrillingly original.

The whole record shows them as a band who wear their heart on their sleeve, a perfect mix of ‘90s guitar nostalgia and sweet-sounding slacker rhythms.

Messy in its execution, and lacking in simplicity, No_One Ever Really Dies isn't nearly as profound as it thinks it is.

‘Written & Directed’ sees the quartet evolving into the rock outfit they’d always threatened to be.

For a record born of fatigue and exhaustion, she imbues a renewing sense of urgency to each bar she delivers.

There’s a perfectly fine indie-rock record here, if only it were a little less obfuscated by an aim it doesn’t quite achieve.

There are a couple of misses, particularly ‘G.O.A.T’’s obvious attempt at a sports montage soundtrack, but largely ‘Happenings’ is full of genuinely interesting choices. Free to indulge all the multitudes of his tastes, Pizzorno is managing, against many odds, to keep Kasabian moving forward.

Voices is more than an uppercut of an album, it’s a finishing move.