Sampha’s journey to now has developed a wonderfully versatile artist, and on Process he succeeds in tying these strands of his musicianship together into a record that’s concise and focused.

While Japandroids have always walked a tightrope between classic rock and straight-up punk, Near To The Wild Heart Of Life finds their footing wobbling for the first time.

This stripped-back, honest approach exposes the inconsistencies and vulnerabilities of the man, while also bringing to the exterior the charisma and charm of a laissez-faire psych icon.

It’s a bit like listening to someone attempting to fit a round peg into a square hole. But while he might have occasionally bitten off a little more than he can chew, there’s still undeniably some moments with serious bite here.

Tourist In This Town’s strengths are also its weaknesses though. The visceral, in-the-moment recording at times gives the record a life and character that feels charming and personal, but elsewhere feels a little too rushed, and being a little heavy-handed in the use of synths and backing results in sensory overload and slightly jarring instrumental clashes.

Life Without Sound feels more confident, the songs themselves coming from a more positive position.

Letting endless threads unravel, in vivid detail, this album might creep up on you at first, but make no mistake, its creativity and poetry will floor you.

You’d hope there’d be more new ideas injected in to Simon’s music. As it is however, Migration feels disappointingly close to home.

Lemon Memory shows a band unencumbered by the constraints of genre or even their own musical history.

In short, the Canadian four-piece’s third LP is a terrific fusion of indie, new-wave and house that demands attention.

With Not Even Happiness she takes the listener on a beautiful, thoughtful journey.

Frequent changes in instrumentation and tone ultimately make Oczy Mlody feel unfocused, and without any of the band’s signature flamboyance to fall back on, it makes for a dull listen.

The refocusing of his songwriting has led to undoubted growth in SOHN’s work, but that stunted sense of adventure leaves moments that fall between the cracks.

There’s an awful lot of promise housed in Graveyard Of Good Times, but its scale and constant shape-shifting makes it difficult to consume and process. Some refinement though, and the future’s bright for Brandon.

All three members are now capable of operating on a different standing, and when I See You strikes best, it’s when these level-ups lock limbs.

In equal parts an unequivocal call to arms and an excitable ode to a wonderful friendship, even in the company it keeps. RTJ3 shines.

Not The Actual Events serves as an excellent primer for what is to come. But more importantly, and more pressingly, it asks more questions and takes more risks than any welcome back should. It’s not a postcard of a legendary past, its a battlecry for something truly epic to come.

A little bit cocky at times, sure, but with the tightness to back it up, Night People feels like the band’s most natural and accomplished step so far.

This is a record made for the cavernous expanse of Brixton Academy, fancy light show in tow, chant-a-long choruses guaranteed.

Echolocation is a bleak affair, but it does have a number of impressive melodies and a clear sense of the liberation that music elicits in the band itself.

It’s a record swathed in simple but effective neo-soul melodies, echoing Chance, but also early 00s R&B with its gentle pianos and smattering of light hi-hats and percussion. Warner’s own languid style of delivery only adds to the lilting nature.

There are very few moments on Harlequin that don’t click either sonically or thematically. Izenberg has established himself as a gifted songwriter with a firm grasp on the strange side of things, and his beguiling debut plays like the nexus of Mac DeMarco and Anna Meredith.

Colourful, brilliantly messy, and a fully committed hodge-podge of psych and spacecake croons, ‘Awaken, My Love!’ is unlikely to shed further light on exactly what Childish Gambino is at heart, but by now, Glover’s erratic approach is surely part of his central appeal.

Doherty’s latest solo effort sounds very much like a solid Peter solo album; rambling studio chat snippets, mentions of Arcadia and all. You know how it goes.

It’s hard to overstate how aggravating it is to hear somebody who once stood as the dictionary definition of “less is more” fly so flagrantly in the face of the mantra that made him.

They channel the essence of previous decades. Throughout, the band use a variety of vintage synth tones and guitar and basslines that even Nile Rodgers would kill for.

Justice’s sound is still huge, still bludgeoningly and pleasingly direct.

Backed up by lyrical content that has never been more potent and relevant, this album is proof that A Tribe Called Quest never really left.