While Sick Scenes is a record that questions its authors places in the world in tandem, it’s also one that shows that, for as long as they’re here, Los Campesinos! will always be able to express a certain character type better than most.

Coupling a dexterity honed over countless live shows with a wry sense of humour, with Down In Heaven the band find their own slice of paradise, primed and ready for anyone else who wants it too.

They’re always able to create something to get lost in. And, most importantly, the songs remain heartbreakingly, hauntingly beautiful.

It's simply too mired in experimentation to make for an enjoyable or enlightening experience.

It’s 28 minutes of thrashy, unadulterated skate punk and is a knockout from start to finish.

Weaves is a whole lot of fun, from the deliciously raucous standout ‘One More’ to the delicate ‘Eagle’ via the whimsical ‘Coo Coo’ and the Pixies-ish ‘Two Oceans’.

Sleek, elegant but neck deep in gory realities, Conscious is a record that deals in the very best and worst of the world but instead of getting dragged down with the weight of these realisations, Broods climb high.

Their new record showcases inner madness, characters you’d cross the street to avoid, and some of the band’s smartest pop songs to date.

‘Raising The Dead’ is a hopeful and tender ode to finding attributes of his late father in his newborn daughter. ‘Wandering Aengus’, meanwhile, is a Yeats-inspired piece of trumpet-covered beauty that sums up the record perfectly--peaceful, lush and well worth the wait.

The Anteroom is surely How To Dress Well’s most exciting work to date; it might, in time, unfurl into his most poignant and vital, too.

A couple of times they get some wind in their sails, namely ‘War Dance’ and ‘Turned to String’, but the overall feeling from this is that No Age are, ironically, starting to show their years.

Both lyrically and musically it looks backwards to move forwards, in tone adding to Evan’s beautiful and delicate melodies, and although he doesn’t quite find the light at the end of the tunnel, he certainly knows it’s been switched on.

A puzzling, and largely forgettable collection.

What’s crucial is that ‘Let the Festivities Begin!’ never feels like a case of throwing all of these different textures at the wall to see what sticks; instead, the sounds of everywhere from Turkey to Peru to Argentina are wound carefully together on the maddeningly catchy likes of ‘FFS’ and ‘Change of Heart’, before being relayed with exhilarating gusto. There will be few debuts this year that feel like such glorious exercises in musical technicolour.

‘Life Is Yours’ is the sound of the band less emerging blinking into the post-pandemic light than bounding back into the saddle.

‘MK 3.5’ is an often unwieldy and curiously warming project that sees both contributors embrace discomfort in their art.

For the most part, it’s instead a case of either too much, or not enough. By stripping the layers back and presenting the songs in a wholly straightforward manner - slick, with Julie’s voice centered as if she’s embarking on a perfect three-minute pop song - flaws appear where they shouldn’t exist.

All in all, seemingly indebted to many, this is a band equipped with new-found confidence, poise and an incredibly impressive sophomore effort.

This collection is his most fully-realised to date, with hooks as the glittering vehicle for tales of a blighted American Midwest.

His current tactic of quantity at the price of quality control does mean songs with less impact end up on record.

Too often, Disclosure find themselves playing it safe.

With this second album, they’re still offering an exciting, engaging alternative to pure chart pop, and they do it so bloody well.

Palma Violets' deliciously raggedy rock is enveloping.

On Long Way Home, she delivers these in spades.

Awash with electric guitars equally as influenced by tradition as cathartic night drives, ‘Leave The Light On’ delves into the power of loneliness. Challenging the definition through both lyrics and sound, Pillow Queens deliberately play with light and heavy.

Noisy, riotous, anthemic and bristling with excitement, INHEAVEN is an album to rage along with.

Despite the swirling joy of ‘Julie’ also making for a high point, moments like these aren’t consistent enough to propel ‘Banane Bleue’ towards its potential peaks. They do however show that, when he delivers, Frànçois can still make pure, earnest, and enduring connections.

Aside from a few great moments like the warm and accessible track ‘Beyond That Of Courtesy’, this listen does feel slightly hard to grasp due to its disjointed nature. There are enough ideas in the tank here, but ultimately it's not one to rush out and buy.