Somersault raises the bar on 2013’s ‘Clash The Truth’.

On Relaxer, alt-J sound utterly, wonderfully like no one but themselves.

Overall, it’s hard to escape the sense that the concept behind the record has played to its favour in some parts and gone against it in others; this is, therefore, not even close to being the most balanced Sweet Baboo effort to date.

I Used To Spend So Much Time Alone isn’t as callow as previous Chastity Belt records, and intentionally so, fully digging up the sadness that always lay ever-dormant beneath their tinny-swigging chaos, and leaving behind biting mockery for something that feels vaguer, and also more universal.

Drop your expectations of freak pop from another dimension, and there’s plenty to like.

Packed full of genius--with a few dips that promised more--for the most part, this does play a little like a Greatest Hits. An impressive achievement from such a new band.

For all its adventures into the weird and wonderful, You’re Welcome retains the hallmarks of Wavves at their most recognisable and best.

Falling somewhere between Poliça with an Americana tinge and a less naff Fiona Apple, the likes of ‘Inner Lover’ and ‘This Time’ are cerebral cornerstones that hold up a record characterised by evident catharsis. One for when you’re feeling reflective.

For the most part though, this is a party for one, best enjoyed curled up with few distractions in the twilight hours. Sit, contemplate, and be absorbed into Aldous Harding’s spellbinding realm.

Slowing down and refining his output has allowed Alex the time to make Rocket a brilliantly considered next step. It’s also his catchiest record yet.

With songs that have long ago morphed into brutal initiations, if you can somehow defend yourself long enough Ho99o9 almost invite you to see their world through their hazed-over eyes. In a shadowy landscape of startling binary logic, it becomes easy to draw the line through through Converge, The Prodigy, Death Grips, Pantera, The Stooges, Danny Brown and DMX if you’re only here with that one goal--to start the fire. Ho99o9’s particular arson is burning bright.

It might not be perfect and it might be reductive in parts, but it’s not contrived or calculated.

The beefing up of Girlpool’s sound on Powerplant works marvellously in parts, but at points serves to dilute the individuality the pair presented on their debut.

Routines isn’t an album that’s going to change the world, but it is a pretty good reminder to stop, slow down and take things in once in a while.

Reinvigorated after a so-so initial comeback in 2012, and with their notorious fire burning once again, ‘in•ter a•li•a’ sees At The Drive In returning with an album that’s worthy of standing shoulder to shoulder alongside their revered back catalogue.

It’s at times heart-stopping and at others movingly barren, but is always thoroughly arresting.

15 years in and with no sign of slowing or calming down, Kasabian don’t have to prove anything anymore. If you’re not on board, it’s frankly your loss.

Iit goes deeper and sees our protagonist at his most mellow and introspective.

Flexing their muscles as they stretch their creativity, on Pollinator Blondie might not be testing any limits or redefining any capabilities, but they make thinking inside the box sound pretty damn fun.

The Weather still has their fundamentals at its core - out-there psych-rock, Nicholas Allbrook’s urgent wails, mind-boggling lyrics that take several listens to comprehend--but it’s given them a polish and an upgrade into something new and improved.

The band’s new, self-titled album sees them ageing gracefully, but not without tweaks, even if reinvention is too strong a word.

Mike Hadreas takes a scalpel to the inner-workings of his creative brain, and the love that feeds it. An absolutely flooring record from once-in-a-generation talent.

Hurrying urgently down the rushing veins of every song, colliding surreally poetic lyrics with thumping racket in a tense, on-edge mess, Untitled could well’ve put WALL on the same trajectory as their equally absurdist contemporaries Parquet Courts.

Kendrick Lamar rose to the top with his last album, and on DAMN. he tries to rediscover himself while on this new perch, with spectacular results.

In its final form, Wilsen’s debut is big and bright, melodic guitar lines sprinkled across the whole thing.

Peckham three-piece Little Cub make electronic music with a human heart, Dominic Gore’s observant lyrics adding depth to the analogue synth lines and snapping beats that propel them.

It’s a confident release from a seasoned band still harbouring the energies of youth. Somewhat paradoxically however, it’s also a considered record, one that muses on the transient and a reminder of the importance of being able to appreciate what we’ve got, while we’ve got it.