Indeed, the first half of the album is a tale of peaks and troughs, its highpoint being the dreamy 'Hamster Suite' which bears similarities to both Deerhunter and Blonde Redhead in its opulent make up. The second half of Pussy's Dead fares much better.

It’s OK, it’s not bad, but it’s largely standard Weezer and the stand-out tracks are fewer and further between.

Patch the Sky is undoubtedly the record of someone not only haunted by their past but also the continuing difficulties faced in the present, but it is also a stunning example of Bob Mould’s resolve and ability to channel life, death, love and failure into two sides of meaningful and melodic music.

You can hear the anxiety, claustrophobia and desperation pour from every fuzzy guitar, from every snarl. Yet it is also a remarkably upbeat sounding record, with infectious riffs, thumping drumbeats and an overall rich, joyous punk rock sound.

Grapefruit is fabulous. It is challenging and it is fun.

Hitch is a startling achievement of creativity. It doesn’t reinvent The Joy Formidable wheel but it refines everything they’ve done until this point and presents their most complete package yet.

The first dip into this new Jacuzzi feels pleasant, since Sucker’s sunny party anthems fizzled out halfway through--but XCX lacks the finesse to turn this into anything beyond a mindless massage.

Literally, Potential comes from a place of empathy. So it’s not surprising that it’s best when it isolates all the feelings loaded into a single word or phrase.

Stiff is a hard record to dislike--sometimes all you need for a good time is some well produced, straightforward rawk n’ roll, a good throwback album to channel your inner guitar purist to. If that’s what you’re looking for, Stiff more than fits the bill.

This Is What the Truth Feels Like is half-baked in places and perhaps a little too safe in others, but it’s really, properly genuine, and if she doesn’t leave it a decade next time, Stefani might still be able to make a great pop record. It’s in there, somewhere.

Although Liima’s first offering is somewhat of a mixed affair, it is worth sticking with, for both them and us.

While not entirely unique, both [Mirrors and Second Encounter] provide a distinguished finale to Of Desire and one which suggests The KVB's finest hour might be just around the corner.

Ritual Spirit tantalises with the promise of a staggering force should the next LP surface soon.

The Last Panthers is a thoroughly original take on a very familiar aesthetic, and by sheer will Clark’s produced something that ranks amongst the very best of its kind.

This is essential listening and a likely cult classic for years to come.

If you do have another [James record], the chances are it’s stored away somewhere you don’t think about very often. The chances are, too, that The Girl at the End of the World, likeably well-intentioned as it may be, will end up in the same place.

There's enough on Chaosmosis to keep even the most casual fan occupied over the months ahead. As for those already worshipping at the altar of Primal Scream, prepare to be consecrated once more.

Underworld have forsworn the well-trodden path of replication and opted instead for another path. Gone are the tub-thumpers of yore in favour of understated, yet nevertheless, euphoric electronica bursting with hope.

Pere Ubu are somewhere in-between that--impenetrable musique concrete sound collages mixed with upbeat, breezy pop. A strange, strange world to inhabit, but one that’s ultimately as rewarding as it is frustrating.

Richmond Fontaine hardly deserves any kind of apologetic treatment, if for no other reason than You Can’t Go Back If There’s Nothing To Go Back To is a lively statement at the (supposed) end of a 22-year-run.

Love Yes feels like a radical step forward for the Brooklyn-based group. It’s a coming of age struggle wrapped in the slick, veneer of Eighties glamour, and ultimately TEEN’s synth-pop dreams are hard to beat.

The songs flow by and are engaging enough, but as soon as they’ve finished you’ve totally forgotten them.

Some sparks of brilliance fly in Instructions, but not enough to distinguish the spectacle of Heck from their recorded output.

It's so different from the majority of his previous output that it might take some time to truly get to grips with. The coherence of the whole record is a joy.

His dull lyrics get made more of a point of through repetition, they shine brighter than his well-crafted moments of introspection. There's only so many times listening to a man singing about someone waiting at a bus stop can be bearable.

The back end of the record seems to lose everything that is so great about Luneworks and replace it with something even better: a discordant, throbbing pulse.

As it stands though, Eraser Stargazer is the first time Guerilla Toss have been able to capture on tape their high energy mix of anarchic rock, their anything-goes scraping of strings and keys, those pounding rhythms, and that joyously smiling sort of youthful fury. In short, it’s the first time they sound essential.

This is music to (quite pleasantly) while away dozy afternoons, but it’s far from being as transcendently atmospheric as the many great records Roedelius has been a part of in the past.

The droll poetry of Emmy's lyrics are brilliantly showcased in 'Hyperlink'.

For all of its discordance, there is both the degree of palpable cohesion belying To Pimp A Butterfly and the unorthodox narrative of GKMC that lures the listener close.

The shining jewels in Forever Sounds’s crown are the ones where Warner takes centre stage, and shines a light on her own cryptic narratives.

As one would expect, the 12 brief songs on M. Ward’s More Rain hit, plow, and bulldoze their way right into the sweet-spot of joyous existential-wonderment.

They have yet again created a record of consistent dependability, but sadly it fails to excite and veers too close to the middle of the road.

Årabrot are still unhinged. There’s still the sense that this is a dangerous band.... However, here we also see a side of Årabrot that’s ever more suitable for the fading, decaying grandeur that surrounds all of us: one that is increasingly sonically diverse and eloquent.

It's a strong departure from the more sedate haunted seaside sounds of their last album, Butterfly House. It’s the sound of a band revitalised after a five-year-hiatus, ready to conquer the world once again.

Despite its heavy subject matter, this record sparkles and whirrs in a way that is very easy to fall in love with.

LNZNDRF lacks the deft, enchanting musical nuance of The National or Beirut but it does make for enjoyable, if not startling, interim listening.

The album traverses a rich genre spectrum and incorporates contrasting moods and atmospheres that make for an exciting listen.

Imperfections define personality and The Waiting Room wears its flaws well. Don’t let them put you off. This is a rich, warm, comfort blanket of a record, marbled with veins of darkness and light.

Each track contains a melodic or harmonic flourish, a synth layer, a moment of unexpected aggression or vulnerability which shows that, at the same time as delivering a potentially career-defining album, there is the exciting potential of so much further that Lily and Madeleine could go.

Grandfeathered is another distinguished addition to an already impressive body of work.

What they’ve made is a bold body of work that sounds effortless and odd and sophisticated. What they do next is likely to be stadium-filling and bonkers and brilliant, but it matters little when what they're doing now is so sensational.

This is a challenging listen, the rewards often buried, but they are there.

Meet the Humans is the most concise and immediate record Mason has released in over a decade.

What Neufeld shows again in The Ridge is that the violin and her superbly expressive playing is more than enough to make for a great record but it shows this at the expense of making the other elements thrown in occasionally feel superfluous or underdeveloped by contrast.

99 Cents doesn’t exactly deliver the discussion on commodity and the self promised on the cover. But Santigold have assembled a fine package, one which showcases White and her undeniable swagger.

One of the most hauntingly beautiful records you'll ever hear.

As the listens pile up--one realises suits Traditional Synthesizer Music (both the album and the notion) more than anticipated. A welcome return to top form.

The whole thing is put together with such love that nothing ever feels like a burden, nor an obligation. First and foremost, this is an LP which can be enjoyed by anyone. You don’t need to know the album’s backstory to be swayed by its charm.

Whether this will go down as one of Motorpsycho's best albums (and there are a lot of contenders for that crown) only time will tell. Clearly though, they are a band as vital as they've ever been.

Daze challenges the listener more than most dime-a-dozen electronic music.

Given his richness of experience before he entered the studio, it makes sense that the nine tracks here are as so assured.

There's a sort of admirable purity to this approach, and it suggests that if Animal Collective decide they'd like to make brilliant albums again then probably will, but this time they're probably better off painting alone.

It is hard to criticise such a well-crafted, enjoyable album that appears to have been made specifically with someone like me in mind. The thing is that in six weeks’ time it will be even harder to remember it.

Once again, Kanye has released music filled with contradictions and confusion. Once again, it’s like nothing heard before. Once again, it’s good to have him back.

Neo, the Seattle group’s debut, is as painfully Sub Pop as it gets, and it’s painful in a wonderful, wonderful way.

Overall, Still In A Dream: A Story Of Shoegaze 1988-1995 is an essential purchase for anyone with an interest in the genre. And while the omission of certain acts make it just fall short of being definitive, there's more than enough sonic gold here to compensate.

Whilst there are many other bands doing futuristic disco, many of which band members have worked with, NZCA Lines’ unrelenting quest for a great hook and massive chorus pushes them ahead of the pack.

Everything about Wonderful Crazy Night is utterly predictable, from its subject matter to its comprising 100% mid-tempo ballads, be they boogie-woogie piano (‘Looking Up’, ‘England and America’) or acoustic guitar lighter than a Peter Kay show (‘I’ve Got 2 Wings’, ‘Tambourine’). But despite this--and perhaps in no small part thanks to T Bone Burnett adding a lovely warm country tinge in the production--none of it grates.

The Wave Pictures have embraced DIY ethic and shown that less is more and will hopefully inspire more people to make a record this way.

Mills is simply better (if still at times clumsy) when writing about more personal, spiritual or quasi-philosophical matters. K 2.0 begins very promisingly with the loose psych-rock stomp of ‘Infinite Sun’.... Not everything works that well, especially in the LP’s second half.

Lush, cathartic and surprisingly brief, Promise Everything is the record that makes good on everything Further Sky promised.

Nonkeen’s collective narrative may be charming, but more often than not the record fails to deliver on its many promise.

Despite perhaps being a little too tasteful to truly excite, Big Black Coat is an accomplished, soulful effort that will reward casual listeners and audiophiles alike.

Sometimes there's a feeling of business as usual--both 'Heathens' and 'Avalanche Of Light' fall into that category--but then when your legacy is as distinguished as The Cult's, such a trait should not be scoffed at.

The quality of the music is without question but the means of consuming it sometimes hinders the listener from soaking it in at a favoured pace.

The album bubbles and whispers along. You can listen to every word and every inflection or you can let it carry you--Foster's casual vocal style holds true for the lyrics, so each phrase is a shape as much as it's a fully formed, structured section.

Thought Rock Fish Scale is one of the most enjoyable and insightful albums released this year so far.

No lives will be changed, nor hearts broken, but it does what it needs to do satisfyingly well.

A welcome return, and one that hopefully signals a healthier and less troublesome existence in the future.

All three EPs--Junk, Dross and Dregs--featured in Resort hold their own standing alone--but when they are collated together it does have a feeling of doing it for the sake of it.

The diversity of the influences found on What Do People Do All Day? is both the strength and the weakness of the album--a fascinating and beguiling collection of sounds, ideas and influences but a collection which never seems to fully belong together in its own company.

All the same, nothing hits with the same succinct and simple impact as early wins like ‘List of Demands’ or ‘Black Stacey’.

The trio trade lines like they’re flashing secret handshakes to each other--it’s a complex process, fingers flying and interlocking, each gesture laden with meanings that an outsider can’t even fathom.

This is Acting has some good tracks on it and is obviously written by a very talented songwriter, it’s just not an album that demands excitement from its listeners.

The only real ‘surprise’ about Rihanna’s eighth album is just how challenging it is, not to listen to but to enjoy. Sonically, Anti is defiantly low key with very little to quicken the pulse.

Emma Pollock’s confident third solo album.

It's understated, yet incredibly ominous. This album should convince you that solitude can inspire great musical work.

As a debut album, it shows great promise and potential for what’s to come, as she develops her own style as an artist.

Here's a record that shows an innovative appropriation of sound that makes for one of the most exhilarating and original albums he's ever done.

Nevertheless, despite its impending theme of hopelessness, Suicide Songs delivers on every level--not least of which is highlighting Jamie Lee as one of the finest wordsmiths of his generation.

In the end, Hymns is quite a listless journey.

In your [Tricky's] other albums, the landscape would scuttle and drift, and you’d blink in and out as you willed; here the room remains a room, and yet you remain... well, I still don’t know what you are now. But that’s for the good. I like you better when I can’t define you.

The amalgam of Clark's one-of-a-kind vocal and Toydrum's inventive soundscaping would, under normal circumstances have Evangelist marked out as a modern classic.

Despite its hefty length, then, Atgclvlsscap works as a triumphant departure from the confines of the temporal.

Her lazy, beaten drawl is an acquired taste, and she wears her scars and bruises for all to see, but Lucinda Williams’ tear-stained tales are so vivid and evocative it’s hard not be haunted.

Make no mistake, these are all energising pop tunes, but by the time you reach the seventh track, you’re left wondering how many of them you can take in one go.

Though it has merit in the strength of its content, Pond Scum may be only one for the collectors.

Ultimately, while the record will prove to be an enjoyable distraction for ardent fans, it’s hard to shake the feeling that these revamps might have been better saved for the live setting.

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.

HHowes’ debut album infuses swirling soundscapes, muted beats and nebulous bass into 43 minutes of forward-thinking electronic music.

It’s just a little too saggy round the middle.

The band have taken on an ambitious project, and have pulled it off with much aplomb.

While New View may be musically somewhat muted, sonically a touch predictable and backward-looking, Friedberger still crafts utterly charming songs with brilliantly observed moments and a real sense of life’s great adventure.

Whatever the case, Adore Life still feels like a step forward, not because it’s different, but because it’s more so.

Studiously crafted and meticulously executed from start to finish, if any doubts remained as to whether Fat White Family were the most important rock and roll band of their generation, this should put a lid on it once and for all. For Songs for Our Mothers is of a rare breed of record that's both of its time yet timeless in nature.

This album is another positive step in the evolution of an intriguing band.

Some might sneer at its twee nature--especially in light of the extraordinariness of the recently departed, but Spilt Milk captures an ageing songwriter catching a second wind and reflecting with wit, charm and humility.