An ambitious project, King Gizzard succeed into enticing you into fully absorbing yourself into their wild, bizarre universe.

This follow-up is more inquisitive and self-exploratory, and just a touch darker - while still building on her signature nostalgic sound.

This record was defined by never being in the same place at once--each song was recorded in a different location--but there’s a glue holding everything together.

The Vaccines still know how to write a direct hit--‘Handsome’, with it’s opening “oh God oh God oh God” panic attack, is still an indie-tastic thrash--but they’ve got other gears too.

As far as Pantha du Prince standards go, those expecting bangers will find that this is a slower paced, subtler, more meticulously detailed album than ‘Black Noise’. Yet for every dark, dreary, wintery moment, there’s more than enough of luxurious, melodic techno bliss to make up for it.

It’s more confident, a little sexier. It also finds the outfit playing mostly the same old tricks as last time, for mixed results.

It's not noise for noise's sake--it's melodic. It's quiet at points, frantic at others. It's dark, it's messy, it's a dank and smelly basement.

This album feels purposely written to soundtrack their future barbecues, like they’re just playing what they’d want to dance to. That kind of pure, genuine enthusiasm is always infectious, and ‘Marble Skies’ feels like a joy ride.

Its steady pace and relatively tame nature (by his standards) means it might not be his most immediately striking release, but it’s still testament to his talent as an astute alt-pop songwriter.

This isn’t them superficially cashing in on a new generation’s fascination with ‘indie sleaze’; it’s the sound of songwriting duo Emily Haines and Jimmy Shaw bridging the gap between who they were then and who they are now. Sonically, they do that by leaning into the fundamentals.

This is an offshoot of Waxahatchee that may fail to bring in fans anew, but offers plenty for those wanting a return to Katie Crutchfield’s more acoustic roots.

‘Stay In Touch’ is a hip-shaking highlight, and the one true surprise here, but largely Marauder simply sees Interpol proving their worth once again, and their prowess for creating bleak, blackened indie rock that’s full of feeling.

Both ‘Fountain’ and ‘Sweet Memz’ are solemn, sobering pieces. This delicacy is a little muted at times, lacking the sharp, alluring production of the record’s opening, instead closing out in hushed tones. It feels a little uncertain, as if the group are speculating the next chapter in their artistic output.

The result is a rocket-fuelled silver screen roller coaster.

As an album it’s guilty of being simply too cold and distancing to be able to connect to.

How the listener takes Death Magic defines everything, but once again, even at their most open and exposed HEALTH completely defy definition.

An excellent record that is at points raw but more often joyful, but is also proof of the importance of taking time out.

EL VY could have been many things for Matt Berninger--in the end his first non-National album serves to take him away from firm rooting in gloom to a certain extent, but largely just exhibits him doing everything he does so well, just with a few tweaks and exceptions.

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.

Pure X have emerged from a dark abyss into beatific splendour.

It's Springsteen, it's 70s soft-rock, it's sun-soaked Californian road trips.

Not just a return to form from a group whose recent catalogue has been somewhat patchy, but a true classic, ‘Saviors’ is Green Day at their musical and thematic best.

Area 52 is hands down the duo's most grandiose, outlandish opus yet.

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

It’s a record of two halves; the former a collection of evocative vignettes, the latter a vehicle for her impressive vocal. And while the latter does have its moments - closer ‘Weekend’ is the kind of sprawling epic that brings to mind earlier Jessie Ware - it’s in the first half, shorn of any jazzy accompaniment, that ‘Be Right Back’ is truly interesting.

Its lack of slickness and idiosyncrasies are where its charm lies.

There are enough fragments of warped interference to ensure this is a worthy collaboration albeit one which doesn't entirely muscle up to the canon of its individual progenitors.

Newer fans might not be totally impressed here but existing ones yearning for Harris’ observations should be satisfied otherwise.