A lot of the songs are solid hits in the making.

An album that immerses you into its world, a headphones record that is at once both their most accessible and their most challenging, revealing new layers after every listen. Unpredictable, in the very best way.

In a contemporary pop age of increasingly tired homogeneity, AlunaGeorge are a very welcome breath of fresh air.

At times, Tucson feels life an afterthought, lacking in the kinetic intensity and corrosive experimentalism of earlier releases.

An exhaustingly incoherent listen.

It's entirely possible that by proving they can make anything their own, they've become one of Britain's best bands.

A passable if disappointing montage of mid-tempo electro-pop that flirts dangerously close to dull trip-hop.

[In Our Heads] is another joyous triumph.

Full of campy affectation presented with a shiny flourish, 'Do Things' is not fundamentally a bad album, but the constant happy-go-lucky nonsense, along with the un-imaginative songwriting, just seems a little contrived.

There is a willful lack of originality on the album in so much as at times it has such a faithful synth-pop sound that you'd be forgiven for thinking it's a 1980s reissue.

At the end of The National Health, you won't be disappointed, but you won't be itching for more.

While this album will neither shock nor rewrite opinion, there is no denying 'Strangeland' is solid enough.

This is eccentric indie pop with a slightly off-kilt flavour.

As loud and aggressive Flats can sound it can't come close to hiding a lack of pretty much everything other than extreme volume and misplaced nothing-better-to-do-than-have-a-go-at-everyone-else small-minded aggression.

If we're honest, the first half of the album, title track aside, is slightly cringeworthy, both in terms of music and the production. But the whole record is redeemed, beautifully, by the last three tracks.

There may well be no such thing as a ten out of ten album, a level of perfection and flawlessness that is by all likelihood totally unobtainable; but it's hard to imagine anyone coming closer than these five men from New York.

Endless Flowers is an amazing effort that deserves a place at the top of its genre. This album deserves to be heard and loved. Do yourself a favour and get yourself a copy once it hits the stores.

Howlin' Pelle and co... have returned with the pomp, charisma and contagious sense of fun they're known for, with a surprising variety added in to the mix.

[Anxiety] retains all the best things about her debut while expanding on both her sound and style.

But like a fine pastiche, the presented elements are enjoyable, but there's a detached lack of soul and ardor.

A vital, woozy summer repose, nine tracks in the perfect sequence for drifting off on a lazy, languorous May afternoon.

A wonderful start.

This was bold move for Joyce Manor, but one that exemplifies exactly why they're loved.

It's a bold step, and one that can't quite sustain itself but Blood Speaks is a force of nature, and in more senses than one.

'Sit Tight', 'Melting', 'Never Get Tired' and 'All In One Day' all make you imagine the band having a really grand time recording this, but you'd have a hard time figuring out where these songs are going.

These guys just made you want to flail your arms around and shout the lyrics. Heel-stomping music. God-forbid, head-banging music.

'Magic Hour' is an album that equally frustrates and enthrals. The collection of excellent electro pop tracks show the band still know their way around a melody but the album is let down by a few too many tired and morose ballads and witless appropriations of chart successful sounds.

'2:54' is the sound of two Fallen Angels back to steal what's left of your soul; it's sultry, it's mischievous, and it's damn near magnificent.