Even as Lucy deals with massive topics including death, hope, and major life transitions, she offers listeners entry points back into their own worlds, all while strengthening her already taut grip on rustling, soul-blemished rock.

Wilfully experimental and typically fluid, Drift is an album that will keep you on your toes.

While it may flag a bit in its latter moments though, All Nerve still has moments where the magic of this particular, iconic incarnation of The Breeders feels recaptured.

Excess and saturation can only get a band so far without a knowing wink to match, and at the moment, it’s that mischievous streak of personality that feels slightly absent.

A big and brilliant step out of the box.

Lo Moon is a daring and complex debut album scored through with emotional tumult and a nuanced understanding of the groups that have inspired them.

Even as they strain between varying poles, Frigs still manage to find moments of great, if sombre, beauty. That’s not basic at all.

There aren’t quite enough hooks to unite some of the more exciting experimentalism, but when SHIRT does throw them it’s not certain that they land.

Sneaking under the half-hour mark, Time & Space is a comprehensive thrash that places Turnstile as the most inventive, forward-thinking band in hardcore.

Poliça have broken new ground and consolidated old strengths with this laudable step outside of their comfort zone.

Uncle, Duke and The Chief is a chirpy affair that’s very much in the vein we’ve come to expect, even when there’s a sadness permeating the lyrics.

Across its 14 tracks, Silver Dollar Moment rarely deviates from the same emotional note throughout. Leaving off ‘Sugar…’ also feels criminal.

It’s obvious where Marlon Williams’s influences lie but he expertly melds his roots with elements of chamber pop and ‘50s heartbreak amid a sea of textures. Make Way For Love is nuanced, subtle and evocative.

Anxiety might still be rooted in Ought’s foundations, but by looking beyond it the four-piece have made their richest, greatest work yet.

It takes no prisoners musically or lyrically. And, despite the exasperation which the album channels, the tracks never feel too dark and this is largely, in part to the warmth which hides below the rage in Mac McCaughan’s delivery, along with the guitars which remain defiantly loud.

The message of US Girls hides under an instrumental output which is far more intriguing than its lyrics--the music is a bit too good for its political musings to be wholeheartedly focused on.

None of this feels enough to truly deserve that futuristic tag, but maybe this new set-up just needs time to find their own MO? In the meantime, we’ve got another great single to add to that hypothetical greatest hits.

Only the moody, foreboding ‘Over It’ hints at the pair testing their own boundaries; otherwise, this is another solid Deathrays outing.

The most complete result of his vision he’s committed to record thus far.

A fun, full-of-heart pop record that’s 2018’s first big surprise.

Blood, like ‘Woman’, is honest. It’s an endearing expression of sexuality.

When they strip things back and leave space for each element to breathe--as on the purely orchestral title track--Open Here can be a joy, a deeply astute pop album that’s also often brimming with fun. While pushing their boundaries as far as they can go though, it sometimes makes for a record that can feel frustratingly cluttered.

While ‘The Hum’ proved a logical step forward for Hookworms, ‘Microshift’ pays little attention to the script, and is all the more thrilling for it.

Whether figuratively (say, the disjointed delivery and post-punk rhythms of The Slits and the fearlessness of Kathleen Hanna) or literally (that Spice Girls riff in ‘F.U.U’), Dream Wife have taken all they’ve absorbed from decades of iconic women and created, well, a dream of a record.

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.

For Nils Frahm, this record is nothing new: on his terms it is not extraordinary. But for mere mortals, All Melody is a bracing cacophony of the possibilities of minute sonic experimentation.

For every radio-ready chorus, there’s a fascinating tangent, and plenty of pointers towards Marmozets being the most important rock band we have.

Time away hasn’t dulled No Age’s musical sword--they’re sharper and brighter than ever.