Completely nonsensical, yes; yet also the perfect way of describing this album as the whimsy-filled journey through life it is.

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

It’s an excellent album by a band who seem to be permanently brimming with life and ideas, a glimmer of warmth to lighten the dark depths of winter.

Weekends is an inspired assortment of astutely executed ideas packed into 12 flowing pieces that deserves a wider audience than its likely to receive.

If familiarity breeds contempt, regularity breeds complacency, and Deerhoof's prodigiously consistent output should not overshadow how precious they are.

Overall Where the Gods Are in Peace is another solid album in a ridiculously exceptional back catalogue.

Putrifiers II is clearly a collaborative effort, and all the more delightful as a result.

With Emika, then, the hiding is over, her close-up appearing clearly on the cover of this varied and impressive 12 song record.

Talbot’s vocals mix with the music about them to become another instrument proper; messages are lost in the murk, but the fug’s an appealing blur nonetheless.

This isn't the best album John Legend or The Roots have made, but it's not going to go down as the black sheep of either canon.

Volume X certainly appears to have more than enough subtle moments and hidden delights to ensure its longevity.

On Dodge and Burn, Mosshart really makes the album her own and consigns White to the shadows.

From the filtered Cut Copy of "Hours" through "Adrift's" hip-hop tape signals to the final patter of "Elegy," Dive is a postcard from a pantone Miami, and a perfect memento for the summer weather we've all been deprived of in Britain.

Polymers Are Forever lurches, strives and sneers with all the subtlety of a bulldozer through the houses of parliament.

So it wasn't because Blur gave the most outstanding performance of their two-decade career that justified their rejection of what I'll call the Seymour route. It was the timing, the sense of 'crowning achievement', the feeling of poetic justice. As a document of that, Parklive is worth your money.

It’s as direct and aggressive as any of Halo’s floor-orientated material, and shows that, while she may turn more heads with more compositional, vocal-driven tracks, Hyperdub and Halo can move into new areas, one where syncopated drum lines break for vintage warehouse rhythms and the chill-out room has been invaded by pianists and a house DJ.

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.

Ultimately, Brothers of the Sonic Cloth’s LP is so tasty, it’ll have you unashamedly coming back for seconds, and thirds, and fourths, and dessert, and a cheese course, and just one tiny little wafer thin mint.

Goat Girl might be 19 tracks long but don't let that put you off. At just 40 minutes in length it doesn't stick around long enough to incur tedium, and what's more, each of its consistent parts makes for an explosive whole that demands repeat listens.

So, finally, to Farm, which every bit the equal of "Beyond;" maybe even better.

Micachu and the Shapes are fun. Their new album is fun.

It’s a record to get lost in, and to find yourself in. And to put it as plainly as possible: it’s a record as emotionally and musically rewarding as anything Cass McCombs has ever released.

This is a fine debut album.

While much of the album has you spitting out quicksand, the clear escapism theme of ‘Noah’s Ark’ is a hand dragging you out of the quagmire. And with the amount of misery The Body are offloading here, you’re gonna need a bigger boat.

Its their frivolous experimentalism and willingness to toy with all aspects of the past that make Girls such an invitingly warm and honest proposition

Rich and accomplished; beautifully played and immaculately conceptualised, Albarn’s latest trip from FitzRoy to Faeroes and back, via Dogger and Dover, is a drizzle-soaked deep-dive into a fractured land and fractured people. One of the quiet highlights of the year.

Overall, Rather You Than Me is another example of Ross’ gift at making albums, even though he litters the radio with corny one liners.

Testarossa is an album that gets better with each listen.