Newcomers to the band would do just as well to track down The Ugly People vs. The Beautiful People, which gives a more cohesive impression of the version of The Czars that Best of... tries to convey.

It’s perfectly pleasant background listening, but it yields diminishing returns from close listening.

Like many of the tracks contained therein, Geneva ends up far from where it began. But this is not a record defined by where it starts and where it finishes--it’s what there is to take in on the way that counts.

Abyss proves that there's still much work to do in the dark side of alt rock. Chelsea Wolfe is surely ahead of the curve.

NV’s live shows are a true spectacle, bursting with human drama and storytelling, building an arc that is disappointingly absent here. It is not just the pop songs that have disappeared, but the sense of definition. ... There are moments of hope.

The guitar work almost borders on wankery. Space-rock elements of Sixties psych don't so much creep as stomp leaden footedly into your lugs. Does it feel a little out of place? Yes. Finest four and a half minutes of Let's Wrestle's brief career? Absolutely fucking yes.

Much as [Bjork's] presence is immediately arresting and enhances its charms no end, it's a testament to the strength of Longstreth's songwriting that Mount Wittenberg Orca wouldn't suffer were she not a feature.

Guider is an intriguing, viscerally stirring study in contemporary post-punk that holds attention like a fox in a headlight beam.

Now we have Accelerate; the actualisation of a new found urgency. Gratifyingly short at under 35 minutes, it’s a summation of much that is or was great about R.EM.: wordy proclamations by Stipe, ringing Rickenbacker trills by Buck and lush backing vocals by Mills.

There’s insecurity, certainly; self-reflection, yes; but more than that there’s resilience, romance, strength, sensuality and an album full of lurching, longing, lustrous pop songs.

You get the sense that all Sky Ferreira ever really wanted was for people to listen. Here, she gives them a reason. That's truth worth discovering.

Nouns is truly psyched, soaring sound.

Astro Coast is a welcome reminder of the youthful vigour and playfulness of early Pavement and Weezer, imbibing the Sixties rule-book of good pop without coming off as a bad pastiche.

There is enough in the moments which don’t quite astound to suggest that Lawrence Arabia is on the cusp of making a real classic of a record, until that time arrives, go check out ‘Beautiful Young Crew’ and drool at the prospect of an album which tops it not once but twice.

In these 28 minutes, Badwan underlines his determination to expand beyond traditional patterns, creating an album that's absorbing and rewarding.

This record is better placed alongside, rather than in opposition to, Chardiet’s prior two releases. It’s another excellent entry in her catalogue of searingly distressing, and physically exhausting, noise.

While it’s fair to wonder if they can ever top it, their growth from record to record indicates that they may indeed have another even higher gear.

Expect the Best stands out amongst other reverb-drenched indie rock for being exceptionally well composed.

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.

There’s certainly nothing anywhere near as anthemic as ‘Even When The Sun Comes Up Her’ and later material, particularly Are We There, is far more fleshed out. But here we get the most incisive look into the soul of Sharon van Etten and that’s hard to replicate.

Even though this is a relatively concise Truckers record, it does still have a little flab around the midriff.

Grant might just be taking the piss here, but his impish spirit reflects a writer with his fingers on the pulse of what’s really magic in this era: an understanding of humanity and all its feathery mess.

It remains to be seen whether A Swedish Love Story marks the beginning of a new era in Owen Pallett's career. What it is for certain, however, is a small glimpse of the extraordinary range of songs he is capable of writing.

An exquisite album by anyone's standards.

Far more than a simple exercise in rock as violent fury, or as political vehicle for that matter, Gnod’s latest effort is yet another important musical statement from a group firmly at the forefront of everything good about British underground music. That it arrives in time to soundtrack such troubled times as these is, of course, a welcome bonus.

It is not monotony but repetition, not sing-a-long surface but deeply-felt rhythms, shunning songwriting convention for more fertile ground.

For now, Tegan and Sara have reached the end of a thorny, awkward path to pop perfection. Those years of uncertainty have only sweetened the realisation.

That’s not to say they don’t come across like an all-singing, all-banging Life Aquatic armed with pots, pans and whatever instrument comes to hand, but from the raw, stamping folk-punk to the string layered sea ditties, All We Could Do Was Sing is much more than it initially lets on.