Here there can be no snobbish derision and calls of 'selling out' or playing to the average man; in creating an album showcasing the very best of the band’s talents they have created one so perfectly fit for, as Scott so vividly puts, “the soft, soft static” of popular radio.

These songs are timeless. These songs are addictive. These songs are great. Why can't every album be like this?

Endless Falls is the most complete version of Morgan's vision for Loscil to date. It's an album that's easy to get lost in after a few cursory wanders into the ether, where the amalgamation of barely-musical sounds sucks you in and seems to produce something different every time.

You’re listening to Jordan grow on Lush at the same time as you’re wondering how much room she’s left herself to develop creatively; she’s already sounding polished and bracingly mature.

There’s no denying that the band has released a fully coherent statement.

Beyond Hütz’s maniacal wail lies a bed of musicianship so textured, so emotionally captivating, it entraps you with the alluring gaze of an Eastern-block temptress under a blanket of silky unrestrained rhythm.

Are The Roaring Night is by no means a perfect record, and there are minor flaws to stand alongside the frequent moments of brilliance, but what cannot be questioned is how skilled they are at shaping layers of sound to form an enveloping whole, with each overlapping texture or shifting tempo plunging the listener further and further into the darkness.

From the very start, The Libertines is the sound of the band at its most muzzled; paralysed by poor production, underdeveloped songs and private lives that have become more sensational and noteworthy than the music.

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

Precocious, other-worldly and vividly ambitious.

By insisting on its purpose as soundtrack, Daniel Lopatin addresses that separation head-on. This defiance asserts Good Time as a record to listen to in the here and now, with or without its filmic accompaniment.

With Compliments Please, Taylor reclaims the path that the industry had laid out for a pretty girl in an indie band--and she proves, with ample sauciness and class, that strong independent women aren’t just riding trends to cash out. This is metaphorical gold.

If you liked Beirut, you’ll love this.

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.

In execution, 13&God is a surprisingly sombre album that'll appeal to fans of forward-thinking hip-hop and beyond.

There’s a sense of immediacy and even unpredictability in the most restless moments on Everything In Love, which saves the album from being a rather static and defiant contemplation of The Carters’ victories.

If you're not interested in music that makes you feel reflective then perhaps steer clear, otherwise this is a stark, brutally honest exploration of the human psyche that is indeed special.

Blake’s musical pallet is a fair bit brighter of late and you can expect a deeper, stronger and more solid vocal tone on much of the album.

It feels effortless. Even after repeated listening it somehow grows on you.

Though Losing Feeling remains EP in stature and with its intentions, it’s still enjoyable and represents a need to keep testing different waters before diving headlong into their next murky stretch of creative water.

Asobi Seksu are a band possessing talent and ability far beyond their years and with Citrus they have fully realised their potential in a particularly short time. It is difficult to see how they will be able to better this sophomore release, but you wouldn't bet against them having a few trump cards left up their collective sleeves.

If you had the latest Pig Destroyer record high up on your ‘Best of 2012’ list, if you hold John Peel’s Napalm Death and Carcass sessions close to your heart then Abandon All Life will be a record for you to cherish. If not: move along, there’s nothing for you here.

What Calvi's debut is a mixture of sprawling guitars that teeter somewhere between Tortoise's mathy noodlings, Deerhunter's brownish hue, Hendrix's fade outs and Howling Bells' shimmering grunge-gaze.

Thankfully, the album’s final act is as convincing as its opening movements.

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.

Hands down, ‘Pawn Shoppe Heart’ is the record to blow their contemporaries out of the water.

I’m perfectly happy settling for an upgrade rather than a complete overhaul.

By balancing their instinctive, intricate side within a tight, concise framework, White Denim have created something that’s both accessible and unorthodox.