The genuine article, Sets and Lights brings coldwave a step closer to realising the vision of the sub-genre once proposed by Blank Dog's Mike Sniper; a new underground form of internal transmission Sniper christened 'Impossible Folk'.

While that argument over the art of the singer-songwriter may be embedded in a lack of originality, Villagers have managed to craft an endearing record, glowing with a heart-warming level of nostalgia.

The resulting record is, given time to grow on you, really rather loveable. Like someone taking all of your favourite Eighties 12-inches, remastering them and making you your own extra special mixtape.

Take Care is dense and takes a while to digest, but once you're in Drake's world there's no escaping.

It is exactly as you would have expected it to sound, and ultimately that isn't enough for anyone who doesn't rush out on the day of release to buy their albums.

It is arresting, but not desperate for your attention like an invalid. Coming down or getting up, Coracle will do the trick.

If you're only half paying attention, it sounds exactly like the stereotype of techno as nothing but an hour of kick drums. This mix delights in small, fiddly details that demand your attention for their enjoyment.

While there will undoubtedly be some who bemoan the same failing within Rock n Roll Consciousness, there’s no way Thurston Moore is going to stop for anyone.

This is a seamless, and often glorious, album, one that showcases a profound peace and melancholia through a focus on ambient washes. Its lack of flourishes should, therefore, not be condemned but celebrated. Recommended.

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

Five or so years ago, it felt like they were shedding relevance. This is the sound of them rediscovering importance.

Regardless of the songwriter, the lyrics overlap from track to track, and no doubt there will be a few erudite folks campaigning to weave a singular poetic storyline for our edification. Whether this is by design, or simply the product of the fanciful imaginations of Wolf Parade fans, the casual listener is rewarded with a batch of songs that works best when taken from a beginning-middle-end perspective.

Artists who operate within a distinct or limited musical template can risk getting stuck in a creative rut, but on this evidence Junior Boys are just too damned good at this game for any such risk.

There appears to be no point or cohesive structure to it whatsoever.

As second albums go, though, this is exactly what we want to see--a clear a development, a sharpening of powers and a defining of sound. What happens next could be truly spectacular.

For all their weirdo mangled machine noise, it feels like they’ve reached a beautiful plateau--a perfect crossroads between all their disparate elements, finely tuned and full of vigour.

It's simply another great album by an indescribably great band.

Any fears of a dangerous liaison are soon sent packing as opener ‘Deus Ibi Est’ thud-thuds its way to attention.

This effort is laudable, but she sounds best when pushing the envelope. A lively talent like hers shouldn't be so concealed.

A record for bedroom chilling that has more than enough clout to slot into dance floor sets, it’s a refreshingly vital take on the heavily worked over source material.

May embraces the darkness and finds slithers of light shattered within. And while it might be haunted by a black dog, in Broken Twin's company, it's one that you too will want to walk alongside.

If these four tracks prove anything, it’s that even when working from off-cuts, the band continue to thrill with their unrivalled promise and exuberance.

No one will begrudge him returning to his day job with Grizzly Bear, but anyone who hears In Ear Park will be hoping he takes another working holiday as soon as he gets the chance.

Seventh Tree, though in some respects an organic redrafting of the autoerotic Goldfrapp template, picks up where Supernature left off in its setting of the controls for the heart of the mainstream, and misses badly the slickly subversive tone that lifted the band from the realms of coffee table mediocrity.

What Xiu Xiu demonstrate throughout Always, is the way in which they can lay down so starkly how terrible life can be and how fucked up one can feel and create something amazing, angry, political, fierce and defiant out of all of it.

Never before has a band name been more aptly descriptive of their music.

To give The Boss his due credit, the progress leading up to his debut album could not be better fleshed out.

You’ll need a breather or two, for sure, but that’s the nature of great horror, regardless of what supernatural forces you choose to worship.