Just as Waits has the power to infuse you with familiarity with the return of a chord, so do the songs of Oh My God, Charlie Darwin, like an embroidered pillow on an old porch that says ‘home sweet home’.

Fleet Foxes might have put a lot of worry into the making of Helplessness Blues, but thankfully it was worth it.

No Grace is raw, quick and dirty, just as rock 'n roll was always intended. Glorious stuff.

It means you can put on LP4 around any mixed group of people at a barbeque or house party this summer and people can simply enjoy the sensory pleasure of interesting, lively music without analysing the cultural baggage than comes with it. The King of Space-age Pop would surely be proud.

This is the album Morrissey could have made if he'd been treated to MDMA and burgers.

Perhaps they're settling into their identity... Fast and furious often, melodic often, powerful often, diverse always.

Last Days Of Summer marks the point where White Denim left behind their schizophrenia and started speaking in one voice.

The Bells is an excellent foothold into the baffling world of neo-classical composers. This is well worth a shot.

Sure, Abraham's vocal style guarantees an intense outcome, but Glass Boys drives forward, constantly questioning.

It’s great that Electric Wizard are still around and are still pushing the limits of heavy music--not just for metal itself, but for British metal in particular.

Comparisons or not, Rose exceeded the expectations that her EP drummed up and delivered a beautiful and tender, youthfully energetic album that crosses the line Rose herself has been toeing so carefully between indie and country.

It’s a pleasure to hear a group take a step forward on a record of reflection and insight, and whilst it may lack a visceral thrill for some and needs to be approached with a careful ear, many will appreciate the nuance, engagement and depth it offers.

Honeys is a savvy, all-inclusive slab of disenchanted rage that doesn't hold back at any juncture.

It is chocked full of majestic pop hooks, but these are offset by ad-hoc rhythms and synths. Trágame Tierra is a remarkable album, but you’ve got to give it a chance.

It's certainly the most arresting record that she's made.

Ever changing and insightful, Arms Around A Vision never becomes staid or complacent.

DOOM has taken a backseat in an attempt to mentor this young talent and under his guidance Nehru has put in a spectacular performance.

If there is one thing in this world that can elevate even the weakest of lyrics from the trough of personal diary hell, it’s a catchy melody. Thankfully this record overflows with them.

Pieced together from bits of wreckage, this is music created in glorious isolation, drawing on its own influences to create something just as fresh and just as joyous; drifting out into the ocean on its own shonky raft.

It makes you puzzle its meaning, ponder on it, burrow nagging ideas into your head. And it is another stupendous record, of the sort nobody else is making, or probably could make.

The kind of details she hones in on are so easily overlooked, but often the most jarring. Sometimes... begs you stop to sit and think about them for a while.

It’s cheeky, and should be gimmicky, but this is a record so sharply made in Kenney’s own non-conformist image, and she gets away with it. On this form, she’s destined for alt-pop greatness.

It’s the points at which A Brief Inquiry Into Online Relationships veers away from the preset aesthetic that feel the most profound.

Matador is a precise work of outstanding talent. While it may recycle the emotive wild card a little too often for some, any keen ear will be able to tell you this isn't some half baked solo project.

Tipping just over the 30-minute mark, Epic is a beautifully formed, sonically engaging work.

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.

I Go Missing In My Sleep is a collection of beautiful songs made infinitely more beautiful by the way they've been meticulously put together. The lightest touch lets Wilson's exceptional vocal sit effortlessly close, without sacrificing complexity or interest.

Morley’s high sheen, pop production and MacIntyre’s optimistic spirit and meandering imagination fills Dear Satellite with dreamy, acoustic-pop songs that hold cinematic ambition and lush, swelling, crescendos. The combination works a charm, and MacIntyre sounds more energised and alive than he has in years.