It’s what Bright Eyes coulda done if he put the songs off I’m Wide Awake onto the canvas of Digital Ash.

Hookworms never come across as arrogant, showy or self-indulgent. They have managed to follow a logical musical progression which will undoubtedly blow many minds.

It might be churlish to suggest that First Aid Kit introduce some rougher edges or explore some other musical avenues, when they’ve nailed what they do so exquisitely. However, over time they’ll have to if they're serious about taking the roads their heroes have travelled.

If Pop Levi’s intention was to create an ornate pop star persona, then he’s definitely succeeded. However, his songwriting skills leave a lot to be desired.

It’d be rather too easy to sketch this as a record suitable only for chewing off your own tongue to: in fact, just like the Hieronymus Bosch triptych it appears to name-check, Earthly Delights is actually a work far richer in tone, shade and technique than its lurid sheen might suggest.

Whereas previous Oneida albums could be criticised for being inconsistent and almost too art-rock for their own good, this sounds both absolutely complete and wonderfully concise.

Having set high standards for two-and-a-half decades, Modern Nature serves as another prized addition to The Charlatans' already wealthy canon.

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.

Painful as they may be, Crutchfield's lyrics are perfect all over her fourth album. Instantaneously direct, but not without using imagery that is both recognisable and relatable.

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.

Nine of the 13 tracks go over the five minute mark, and despite the combined fertility of Arcade Fire and producer James Murphy’s creative minds, very few tracks justify their running times.

Her abstract notion seems to unfold halfway through opener ‘Spells’, as she starts engaging in a form of scat singing, amid wispy solos and a dreamy chorus.

IRM is an album that refuses to cast Gainsbourg as the chanteuse some would like to see her as, and her willingness to gamble with her persona and musical style is laudable. However, this risk-taking attitude results in an inconsistent jumble of ideas that ends up being much less of a peek inside what it is to be human than the title might suggest.

A good deal of the success of C'mon is down to its solid foundations – its quality song-writing and deft sequencing.

'Warmer Corners' is a timely reminder that the art of songwriting hasn't died - it just goes away and hibernates in the Adelaide Hills every so often.

It's a stunning collection of the most forward thinking dance and electronica I've heard all year.

There’s a marked step forward in the deceptive depth of Sun Coming Down, and Ought perhaps traded in some of their debut longplayer’s immediacy in getting it, but their wit and emotional complexity remain stronger than ever.

These songs don't linger too long, and the album--with its 36-minute runtime--feels efficient and complete.

A number of songs suggest brilliance before stumbling rather into the bland.

The record is certainly the best distillation to date of a band whose careening fun places equal value on Radiohead at their most brow-furrowed and novelty chart hits without any trace of preening post-irony.

At its best Director's Cut is a dazzling affirmation of Bush's genius as songwriter, performer and producer. Maybe one day we'll take her for granted again. But not today.

With its bones on show and chest wide open, White Chalk may not be the greatest album of all time, it may not be to everyone's tastes, and it may not even be Polly’s finest. But let it and it'll haunt you.

Mr M is an honest but tough old ride.

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.

Breaking Kayfabe is a record that demands and deserves undivided attention, its creator fashioning a brain-searing patchwork of ragged rap, electronic flourishes and truncated rhythms.

Chardiet’s electronic manipulations are subtler and more thought out than those of many of her peers. This, ultimately, means that Bestial Burden, like Abandon before it, deserves to be considered as near the top of its class.

Grid of Points is the sound of what’s left after the winds have subsided. It’s astonishingly beautiful and astonishingly, painfully real.

They've remarkably managed to raise the bar to a whole new level for an entire genre with Third Fact Fader. A triumph over adversity if ever there were one.