They are a less irreverent and more melodic Art Brut, swapping that band’s caustic wit for a far nicer type of honesty.

From one angle Earthology could be regarded as indigestibly worthy and academic, and there are moments such as the bamboo-beating 'Ntu' which will definitely test the patience of the casual listener. Yet there's still a funk of an admittedly spaced-out ilk at the album's core.

A fine album which might be too much of a period piece to truly be the 'sound of 2012' or somesuch, but has a greater chance of making Sophia Knapp into a minor unit-shifter than Lights or Cliffie Swan ever did.

Last Evenings on Earth is as vast and sprawling as their self-titled debut, yet at the same time it’s concise and refined.

Slow Club wear the album’s mood well, and its consistent feel gives the whole record a lovely cohesion, but there are some drawbacks to the approach.

On La Di Da Di Battles feel like they are, slowly, finding their way in the right direction.

Overall, Regions Of Light And Sound Of God is a good rather than great album, lacking some of the spine-tingling dynamics of My Morning Jacket but delivering a consistent vision than many of their efforts.

These five songs illustrate the beauty behind a constant movement, instead of dreaming up a desired fate or meaning. It treats tranquility and chaos like elements we could harness, not opposites we must cement in our fleeting existence; the doing instead of the being.

That’s not to say this isn’t promising as a progression from the last album, with signs of grand ambition and more directions to explore.

Judy Sucks A Lemon For Breakfast is a vibrant collection of songs that further illustrates the importance of Cornershop over the past two decades.

The naysayers may have a point, this might not seem like an aural paradigm shift to some, but Paracosm is still a vital progression for Washed Out.

Fever then, is an album with an audience already writ large. If the idea of ‘cosmic jams’ brings you out in a cold sweat, then this isn’t a record for you.

There aren’t many musicians in the country as creative and as interesting as her at this point in time, and Welcome Back To Milk represents another triumph in her weird and wonderful saga.

Other than the production, Tell Me I’m Pretty sits very much in the same league as Melophobia--a confident, eclectic rock record with heaps of personality and charm.

Throughout Heartworms, Mercer and company prove that their sparse output is well worth the wait. The totality of the record is enough to engulf listeners in myriad textures accomplished via sound and vision.

Where TFCF will stand in Liars’ overall oeuvre remains to be seen, but for an album that wasn’t expected to be a solo piece, Andrew does very well on his own to make his mark.

Whether or not this is enough to inspire acolytes the likes of which this writer had a first-hand audience with some three years ago remains to be seen, though Folie à Deux does look certain to satisfy fans' appetites as much as it may surprise and intrigue certain others.

Sometimes the sheer sumptuousness of the sounds, of Merchant’s cold, clear voice negotiating lush jungles of brass and cathedral-like groves of cello, is enough in itself. Sometimes, you can’t help but wish for more.

Once all is done and danced – in under 35 minutes – there’s no immediate desire to go around again.

'The Invisible Invasion', like both it's predecessors, takes one or two listens to really get into, but once there has an engaging appeal about it that makes it possibly The Coral's most obvious "singles" album to date.

All told, Static is definitely worth your time, ­but it falls short of being the truly great record that Cults will hopefully go on to make.

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.

I can't say if you liked Preteen Weaponry and Rated O then you will like this for sure, because it is a departure. Nonetheless if you were minded to like those two records and if you are after a record that is in pretty much every sense a 'challenging' listen then Absolute II should tick all your boxes.

Even if plenty of the songs on this record could be easily mixed up with something from their past two records ('Window Sills' and 'New Schools' are straight off Everybody), their idiosyncracies never diminish any of this album’s terrific songs.

Despite the album’s plethora of stylistic shifts and breakdowns, there’s a solid coherency to The Information that allows it to flow from beginning to end without the listener losing interest.

An experiment in style that is perhaps a little confusing at first; but more than makes up for it in its grace.

Jake One may not be the "perfect beat-maker" he proclaims to be, but on the occasions when he finds the right connection, he can be tough to beat.

This record tames its chosen songs, moulding them into softer and smoother beasts, and producing altogether sanitised interpretations.

Clues offer precisely that: hints at considerable future potential, and, for any budding gumshoes keen to probe the mysterious fate of The Unicorns, arguably something of smoking gun.

Everything’s well executed, but nothing sinks in; it’s all surface, no feeling.

The music they make is frequently stunning.

She could drop the dodgy cover of ‘Norwegian Wood’ and probably should, but that misstep aside this record’s an engagingly oddball, enchantingly out-there piece of avant-pop that could, with just a little more exposure, be celebrated as one of 2008’s best leftfield albums.

Not classic Pearl Jam by any stretch - let’s not get carried away here--but enough to kindle at least a little optimism for whatever comes next.

This is a realisation, and an affirmation, of Paramore's musical craftmanship and potential longevity.

It’s the sound of someone getting the kinks out of the system rather than incorporating old influences seamlessly into a new sound. Still, the final verdict? Very decent.

Their second full length album, Sunshine--which had its US release back in October--wonderfully demonstrates the finesse necessary to play noise rock.

Fucked Up Friends is a blissful reminder that the practice of absorbing rather than regurgitating influences--innovation and invention--is alive and well.

There are plenty of strengths to Shulamith, not least that it chiefly shares its blueprints with its spellbinding debut. But in expanding its horizons, it dents the assured sense of identity which made Give You the Ghost so utterly enrapturing, and reverses the dichotomy of maximalist-emotion alongside minimalist-music.

One of the highlights of their career.

This album is chock full of more cast iron monster tunes than any mainstream rap LP this century.

Even with these small blips, Peggy Sue have made the transition to a darker and bolder sound with ease.

Those wanting significant progression will find Surrounded By Silence mostly lacking.

The narrative doesn't get in the way of the tunes, and the choruses are pretty versatile as anthems go.

CLPPNG makes a sterling argument for the intersection of noise and hip-hop tropes.

He hits heights that few artists of this genre can reach and although this isn’t maintained consistently throughout the record, the heavenly levels of joy and bliss he’s able to impart prove the purity of his talent and the worth of his experience.

The only potentially bad thing about Edwards' style is that many of the tracks on the later half of the record tend to all bleed together.... That said, 'Back To Me' demonstrates Edwards' prowess as a top lyricist.

We Will Not Harm You is well-crafted enough that the looping repetition is pleasing, with the dominant bass thwacking out grooves which just play on and on.

Ultimately, Cheatahs haven't just upped the ante with Mythologies, they've created one of this year's most definitive albums and probably increased their own burden of expectation tenfold.

There is a classic aesthetic that underpins every facet of these recordings. Everything is calculated and nothing has been left to chance. So sit back, and fully immerse yourself in a sonic experience unlike anything else released this year.

Laibach has done little to diminish their brilliance on a loaded, thought-provoking, and immeasurably entertaining release.

At 14 tracks Dancer Equired is at a glance their second shortest record, with the added bonus that the cleaner production job makes subtler variances more discernible and the record as a whole a more varied experience.

An enjoyable offering from a genuine treasure.

Look beneath the surface sheen, then, and you'll see gratefully receive This Gift as the best, most complete, Sons And Daughters long-player to date.

Unfortunately, by stretching the album to an unnecessarily long 16 tracks, ‘A Bigger Bang’ suffers from its fair share of non-starting filler.

As a starting point for Jim Noir, 'Tower Of Love' is a tasty entree that merely whets the appetite for the first album proper.

They're one of only a tiny handful of bands currently using retrospective influences from the past to create something relevant and unique for the present and beyond.

For all its stylistic diversity--bluegrass, bossa, jazz and electro all get a look in--and voracious internationalism, Floating City is a work with an identifiable centre.

When they do finally depart after a handful of shows later this month, Woman's Hour find themselves in the fairly unique position of having a small but well formed catalogue of work that's near flawless. As a result, Ephyra is a fitting epitaph.

Asa Breed feels too lightweight to recommend without caution.

Though the band are by no means no superstar DJs, the enthusiasm for the music they love is all too apparent. If anything, Tapes will send you digging for the full versions of some fine, forgotten tunes--and that’s no bad thing.

The Family Sign is a strong continuation and addition to a powerful series of modern rap albums. It's bigger than past records and heavier, a nice combination that genuinely puts the listener into an emotional flux.

The music wisely remains sombre; eschewing the cheesy crescendo you kinda fear is coming at the chorus only for it to stick to gloom as the vocals reach to be optimistic.

Much like Fleet Foxes, the music contained within isn't particularly ground breaking, but what is done is done well.

Magic Chairs is an album that understands the importance of harmonies, and the importance of the score.

Flume’s decision to try his hand at everything, whilst demonstrating his evident enthusiasm and frequent successes, comes at the price of the album’s coherency. Nonetheless, there’s a lot of potential here.

It’s just brilliant.

For Wilderness Heart remains, ultimately, a collection of ten tracks of roughly equal length, each taking roughly one classic idea and pickling it in (admittedly, impeccably realised) production gloss and traditionalist technique.

It’s a confused effort, with the songwriting faults, misguided lyrics, and the foolish sidelining of Cage the Elephant's greatest weapon (Schultz’s voice) torpedoing the vast majority of tracks.

If you had Nada Surf down as a one-hit wonder indie band that should remain sidelined to compilation tapes, then the magnetic glory of this album will turn your head.

With Couples they've managed to turn two years of inter-band heartache into an ambitious, forward-thinking pop record that tops their debut by quite some distance.

On An Object, No Age push their weakest attributes firmly into the spotlight; a move indirectly admirable for its continued ambition, but one which makes you wish they’d go back to being punk rock, rather than just punk.

These wandering riffs, devastating drum rolls and rollicking motifs will stick with you, but primarily to serve as an appetite-whetting taste of where their makers may venture next.

Pantha du Prince has gone one further and created a piece of music that soothes and entices even the most impatient of modern ears.

That said, it's not all killer; a song or two in the final third fails to match up to the calibre of the rest, and at times the lyrics can descend into mild cliche, but overall it's evidence of a young man with a great understanding and love for a particular period giving it his best shot.

It's not a perfect record in any sense (the occasional lyrical couplet falls awkwardly), but within such punk atmospheres, flaws perversely become strengths.

Beach House have created as profound an invocation of the sacred and the sentimental as you’re ever likely to hear.

All in all, it’s the usual captivating chaos.

In between almost every track the calming voice of an unnamed narrator tells us a bit more of the fantasy. Such a pompous, and quite frankly pretentious, idea shouldn’t work, but the sheer chaos of the group’s music wrapped around each piece of spoken word makes everything flow beautifully, somehow.

An inviting, maturing album that still shows enough vitality to still be classed as a good rock album.

Like the three series of Deadwood, you could spend time picking between each of the three Brokeoff's releases, but they should instead be seen as a single evocative triptych, although one that would nonetheless leave enthusiasm for another blood stained instalment.

Original? No. Enjoyable? Yep.

It’s a good record, it honestly is. But good grief, it’s a hard one to be excited by.

The rock these four men so easily brandish is every bit the equal, if not the better, of that deployed by so-called peers half their age.

Keeping a band going for 25 years is no easy task, and there’s not many in the world who can still keep pushing forwards, but without losing what it is about them that’s so unique. Tortoise manage that weirdness, that jazz infused strangeness, and that downright groove that they’ve always traded in, but re-mould it for 2016.

Pantha Du Prince describes The Triad as 'about more human ways of interacting... about meeting up and jamming' and, in many ways, it does resemble something close to a jam session where unpolished but great ideas are worked out to be developed more fully later.

The blokes have always goofed too much to fluke sensuality, but there’s some spark of intimacy, which ties off Marble Skies with an unexpected bow.

Treat it like a work-of-art, you might be moved to see shapes too. Treat it like a comeback album, and you might find you miss the point. Open your minds, your ears, your energy--and it will show you incredible sights.

I only wish that they had given us something with a little more substance rather than the bland mess we’ve been left with.

The result is consistently fascinating and occasionally completely enchanting.

A step forwards, if not a giant leap.

While Liberation Transmission may be a lyrical vacuum, it is also a musical masterclass in how to create 12 tracks of killer with almost no filler.

Blurry Blue Mountain is another late career album that falls in the 'good enough to listen to, not quite hot enough to buy' category. The highlights will bolster their setlists, the rest will clog up your hard drive.

Her voice is as mesmeric and worldly as ever, and the instrumentation is rendered in beautiful detail. But it’s tantalising to wonder what would have happened if she would have given herself completely to chaos.

Glass’s voice, too, is the same that’s been luring lusty seamen onto the rocks for millennia, but the way it and the drums are textured--so that the machines they’re passed through sound like they’re melting away--brings Crystal Castles to the outer edges of greatness.

To truly grasp the vigour of Do Whatever You Want All The Time, do it yourself. Grab four mates, pick up some instruments and go nuts. Just don't cut an album from the sessions.

In summary, Third World Pyramid could be renamed 'Business As Usual'. However, when business is as productive and efficient as The Brian Jonestown Massacre have been throughout the majority of their existence, it can only be a positive thing.

There is no doubt that this side of Lil B is his most genuine and I'm sure as a statement Im Gay (Im Happy) is sincere just not quite how you might have assumed.

There is the air of HEALTH now being at a cross roads. Their rampaging style of yore feels a little constrained and tamed by the booming production and ‘nice’ singing, but at the same time they are beginning to write some pretty stupendous ‘proper’ songs.