Intimacy is not quite the radical statement its makers might think it is (I’m not sure what could be given the group’s evident ambitions), but it’s definitely a little bit of invigorating redemption at a time when doubts were beginning to cloud what was, initially, a flawless reputation.

Rather than playing the same bars he’s actually always dangling a carrot, and this time with the tenderest of touches.

New Clouds is as good a record as any to soundtrack disconnection from deep thought.

It's nice, pretty sounding brain candy, sugar-coated technical ecstasy. But it sometimes leaves the listener wanting a bit more substance and a little less style.

Ultimately Borrell 1 is a better-than-serviceable rock record complicated by myriad preconceptions, all which are further skewered by some fantastically hubristic song titles.

It probably is all going to sound a little more raucous and electrifying in the flesh, but this will definitely keep you sated in between those doses delivered in person.

If the elitist few who hold Regina almost too close to their bosom can get past the shiny façade of the first few tracks, they'll find a whole new Regina to love.

Similarities in vocals will mean that Lazy Shins Comparisons are inevitable, but when Rogue Wave break out of the confines of indie-by-association they prove they are a fine band indeed.

Although not entirely perfect. And it's highly unlikely even the most wisened Mary Chain diehard would have expected it to be. Damage and Joy heralds the dawning of a new era in its creators' colourful history, providing a worthwhile addition to a canon of musical eminence in the process.

Anthems is a confident, solid and ultimately hugely likable debut; Carter and Carroll have succeeded in producing something that on occasion genuinely lives up to its ambitious title.

They have an eerie guitar pop sensibility that instrumentally makes for a pleasantly surreal ambience layered with intriguing lyrics and gratifying vocal harmonies.

Overall, then, This Is All Yours is a respectable follow-up to an acclaimed debut that raised the bar for alternative music.

Technically sound, simply arranged, atmospheric and occasionally psychedelic, Calla don’t just write musical warning shots bearing messages of violent frustration... they are also capable of immense beauty.

At times much like a soundtrack to life’s sombre and reflective moments, Roots And Crowns’ clutter-free design is a nice reminder that good music needs no window dressing.

It holds its own but without the moments of genius to elevate it to anything more. There’s no ‘Love is the Drug’, no ‘More Than This’, no ‘Slave to Love’ here. Ferry’s fans though will enjoy this and, given this is a man that even Morrissey professes to enjoy, there are plenty of them to satisfy.

Occasionally you might seek more variety in the tones and washes, but Foy has worked hard to create something that feels of a piece, and there’s no denying the talent at play here.

Ready to Die isn't the missing sequel to Raw Power, but it is a masterclass in writing a big, dumb punk album with occasional touches of emotional depth.

It's not got the immediate clout of Antidotes; and it's not one to spin when prepping for a party (it's actually kind of a downer, apart from 'Miami', which kills). But if you work with it, something really ghostly happens.

Mystery Jets are old hands at this now--and while this offering doesn’t have the immediacy that classics such as ‘Two Doors Down’ and ‘Serotonin’ bring, it is a necessary record from a band that needs to work out where it goes from here.

The first few tracks on Oh Inhuman Spectacle set a high bar not quite maintained throughout, but still, the record is a promising début and a perfect soundtrack for those mysterious twilight hours.

Under Great White Northern Lights would be a funny postscript. It's not particularly revelatory, less cohesive a concert film that Under Blackpool Lights, and in no way intimates that the band was about to go into hiatus. Really, it serves, more than anything else, as a reminder of just how singularly odd the White Stripes are, and how boring things are without them around.

Something of a case of style, or schtick, over substance in places. However, the visceral power of Goat is inescapable.

Self produced by Ben and his drummer Chris Bond at Start Point Farm Studios in Devon, I Forget Where We Were is a grand, serious affair. It’s a somewhat major departure for the artist, and with the far longer running times (only one song clocks in under the four minute mark).

Art Brut manage to retain a frenetic brilliance.

She’s created an album that’s worth more time than a quick fling on the rebound, another engaging entry in her ever-expanding catalogue.

Yes it may be comfortable and familiar, but Silent Hour/Golden Mile is never samey.

Pleasant but forgettable-in-the-long term albums are, after all, a dime a dozen. But this does stand out as one of the best.

Javelin don't yet possess the same kind of wit and invention of their most obvious forbearers, but there's enormous potential here, and the biggest compliment that can be paid to No Más is that it will sound best when reduced down to an audio tape and shoved into one of the boomboxes that Langford and van Buskirk so slavishly worship.

Generally, though, its makers can count Common Existence a triumph.

Like Tiny Masters, these kids are at that enviable point when all this seems fresh and new. You can almost see the process of discovery burning brightly in their eyes. Skeletons perfectly captures that moment.

It’s clear that after a year on the road with the same musicians he’s back into thinking in band mode and how songs will best be served by a four piece line-up. This result is more fully-realised songs.

There are times when Into The Diamond Sun hits a lull, most notably around the midpoint.

Altogether, Father, Son, Holy Ghost is a complex record, one that doesn't quite fully realise Girls potential as great recording artists, yet equally suggests that bona fide masterpiece may not be too far around the corner.

While the album’s steady pace makes for few edge-of-the-seat thrills, World Waits is a success of consistency and coherency.

A little moderated, perhaps, but more mature too. For the first time in years, we are able to imagine that Ounsworth’s best work might still be ahead of him, rather than behind him.

The Sun's Tirade is a good hip-hop album, especially for a chill summer's day.

The real joy of Adams’ back catalogue is that both his vocal mannerisms and skill as a guitarist have allowed him to take a versatile approach to his songwriting; both are evident on Ryan Adams, but the one aspect that does suffer is his lyricism.

Phases is a useful entry into Olsen's back catalogue with heavy stress on the 'back'. For those new to her work, this is a good introduction to her older work, and moreover, yet another example of her incredible talent as a storyteller and composer.

Everything from the minimal arrangements, to the briefly heard flutter of a page turning draws you into the world that Jófríõur and Ásthildur inhabited when they were making the album. They may have been apart for a while, but Sundur is proof that the musical connection between the two sisters is as strong as ever.

As it is Luxury Problems is a shift in a new direction that's not quite bold enough to make the jump in full, but still loaded with incredible ideas.

There's as much silliness and attempted cred-building as there is genuine excitement.

It's undoubtedly complex, awkward and occasionally without direction, but it also produces moments of astonishing splendour, each with the capacity to bring neck hairs bristling to attention.

Images Rolling is a definite step up in consistency compared to his debut, and will be well-suited as a soundtrack to the famous Manchester sunshine, whenever it remembers to make an appearance.

1/1 is much more than a curio, but there’s not enough pressure on it to make you unduly fret over how it stands up to the band’s great works. It’s kind of fun, and deserves to be taken seriously.

The total lack of sonic subtlety can feel kind of exhausting, on repeated listens, and if you prize music which purports to sound ‘organic’ or similar, this may make you puke blood. If nothing else, though, they’ve made an album which is unlikely to be mistaken for many other bands.

Lousy with Sylvianbriar won’t ever be viewed as the quintessential Of Montreal album. But sourness aside, it’s the healthy sound of a restless spirit.

Considering the genre was built around reinventing itself at every corner, their long-term commitment to a fairly narrow sound may surprise some, but nevertheless, this is another strong entry in the Dutch Uncles catalogue.

There's a strong undercurrent of entrancing, psychedlic-pop to enjoy if you're prepared to listen hard enough. But if you're not into that sort of thing, if you're all about the tunes and the beats, it's still worth a go--I doubt it'll set your world on fire, though.

There’s no slack on the album--from the starting gate to the finish line, Chorusgirl bristle with static and nerves.

Although at times Thirst does a very good impression of perfect throwaway pop, it is just an impression.

It's a very good effort, but ultimately it lacks the consistency of true greatness.

Why?'s fifth record seems more of a sure-footing; a reminder that this band that at one point was so exciting, is still able to surprise and move you even a decade on from their crowning achievement.

It is ceaselessly pretty, breezy and undemanding (in the best possible way), boding extremely well for future material.

Small Town Heroes holds enough versatility and charm to captivate even the most jaded soul; songs that will wend their way into your consciousness and stay with you long after the album is done.

Inventive and playful, their songs play out like animated thought processes, you're invited to figure things out with them as they try to make sense of the world around.

Overall, there's a natural interplay between the players, and it lends the album a relaxed, easy-going vibe.

It’s a strange collage of effects and affects that sometimes don’t coalesce and sometimes do.

On the whole, Noise Floor is a fascinating concoction of delights that documents the rise of one of underground USA's most prestigious talents.

Everything In Between is undoubtedly a step onward from its predecessors--it's more developed in every way, though admittedly lacks a little of the sheer raw bite that made Weirdo Rippers in particular so exhilarating.

Prepare to bow down to the new Queen of Singing Sad Piano-Based Songs.

There’s some inevitable long-album malaise in this contingent (particularly prominent on the second disc of rarities).... What redeems is that none of these signings reek of opportunism.

Four's own structure helps this insisted variety stick together, resulting in another piece of theatrical songwriting that confirms Harvey's genius as an arranger.

Nobody is suggesting that Brilliant! Tragic! isn't a flawed album, but it is also one which delivers some of the richest, fullest thrills of Art Brut's career.

Though the component sounds are familiar, they've been engineered into a blur.

While some tracks don't exude the same kind of enticing mysticism Ward excels at, Post-War remains a warm, enjoyable listen.

The Soul Is Quick is the sound of versatile talent who could easily rest on his laurels continuing to grow and evolve.

Pete Doherty has made a solo album with Stephen Street producing, and the result is some pretty good music.

Song construction isn’t quite as nifty and complex as, say, Grizzly Bear, but there are plenty of moments to keep you coming back for more.

So while Always Ascending is certainly a return to form in places, it certainly isn't perfect, particularly in its middle run. ... Overall, it's a pleasant feeling to have a good Franz Ferdinand record again, like a warm hug reminding one of a simpler time only slightly bastardised by ten years of regressive politics and is seemingly inspiring many of these bands to redress the balance.

Cupid Deluxe is arguably Hynes' finest work and an improvement on his debut release but he shouldn't be afraid to place himself centre stage instead of hiding behind a host of guest appearances.

Come album three, they’re not tied down to something tired or fumbling around experimenting with ill-suited sounds, but instead are simultaneously concentrated and expansive, defined by an addictive and inclusive sense of purpose.

With the exception of the dingy, dirty and grandiose boom of ‘Pulled Up The Ribbon’, most of In The Rainbow Rain is made up of occasionally-sombre songs cleverly disguised as up-beat, harmless, light-hearted tunes, which of course they’re not.

A glossy Sixties pop sheen hasn’t just been splattered wholesale over every track but instead nicely integrated resulting in a new and engaging, but hardly incongruous, Rumble Strips noise.

An odd little journey, but one worth making.

Straight out of a John Hughes screenplay, Welcome to Condale pulls off the feat of being thoroughly POP--polished and plump, preened for the screen and sequinned to the hilt--yet, somehow, marvellously INDIE.

This... might just be too scatterbrained for its own good.

Editors have crafted a bold statement of intent, one that hopefully suggests a continuingly bold future.

Green Lanes, the second album from Ultimate Painting, is really, really nice. It doesn’t do anything special, or new, or especially original.

It has a lot to offer around the edges, but is difficult to truly connect with at its core.

Far from perfect, but confident and assured.

Still is Thompson through and through.

The record doesn’t successfully break new ground as much as it reassuringly treads familiar paths

With Quarters King Gizzard they have produced an album which can be analysed to death if need be, but actually works better as something to be consumed as a whole.

The more restrained, and slightly less expansive feel, of some of the tracks here perhaps makes the record as a whole feel slightly undercooked in comparison to its predecessor. Nevertheless it is another fine entry into the enviable discography of one of the most sadly underrated of British songwriters.

The bloat of Tigers and Postcards is gone without a trace; in its place is the sound of a band that’s slain the AOR dragon and finally got back to making the music they feel like making.

While The Bloom and the Blight may have fallen short in some respects, in others its style blossoms. Two Gallants have matured their sound, and clearly so.

Wilson set out on a mission with this album – reinvent herself for the modern world, without her B-52s pedigree, by creating a totally new style for herself. And, by that standard, she’s largely succeeded.

Although not quite being the pièce de résistance Bobby Hecksher and co. were hoping for, Skull Worship is a welcome return and when all's said and done, the musical landscape would be a much duller place without them.

Albums such as this one will often be defined as ‘difficult,’ and the love of its content will derive more from muso appreciation than genuine affection. Six Organs of Admittance have sidestepped this by crafting a piece of work that diefies categorisation: it feels mathematically precise, painstakingly composed, entirely freeform and joyfully performed.

The second album from Cate Le Bon and Tim Presley carries the same sense of freedom as their first outing, this time a bit softer and more song-shaped than their debut’s meanderings.

It lacks cohesion, with eerie instrumentals featuring with gentle acoustic tracks, it is a noble attempt to progress a rather formulaic, albeit excellent, musical career.

She's made an album that only she could have made, and frankly it's refreshing to hear a female singer from a folk background whose most obvious and overwhelming reference point isn't Joni Mitchell via Laura Marling.

Teen Dream is kind of MOR, it would go down a treat at a dinner party, there are boring bits and the doleful DIY magic of the debut seems to have more or less run out. But it’s shot through with more than a handful of heartstoppingly wonderful moments.

Drever’s voice is well-suited to the lyrical sincerity of the album but avoids being overly earnest. While sometimes a bit sentimental, Drever’s gentle declarations of loyalty are charming rather than trite.

The drawback of News and Tributes more relaxed pace, is that the underdeveloped side of their work is more exposed.

The tenderness, and longing in her songs are inescapable; it’s subtle and affectionateness are feelings long sought after in today’s landscape. We should long for more Khouri.

Lysandre justifies its own existence by virtue of its own wide eyed wonder, its own vulnerability, and its giving sense of heart.

Despite something of a slow start, Letherette builds into an expansive, absorbing album, spanning a huge variety of influences and threading them together impressively within a coherent framework.