Across Crab Day, though, there is a lightness to Le Bon’s arrangements. She doesn’t go for dramatic shifts in tempo or tones, which makes subtle additions more obvious.

Whether thrashing out punk anthems Bikini Kill or turning out dancefloor-ready disco pop as on ‘This Island’, Hanna has always had something to say, and never has her message sounded so clear.

International is brilliantly pop in substance and spirit.

Warble Womb is unquestionably lighter than Dead Meadow’s previous psych-stoner releases and the restoration of original drummer Mark Laughlin does not signal a return to their meatier roots.

While Irreal might prove a difficult conundrum for those that favour their music structured in an orderly, compartmentalized fashion, perseverance has its rewards. Intriguing.

Despite the sometime over-the-top dynamics of its voice--the USP that’ll actually be the main appeal to certain admirers, anyway--this album is an engaging listen, one that builds on the promise of its maker’s debut and suggests that, with a little taming, My Brightest Diamond could enjoy the sort of recognition the likes of Bat For Lashes can attract--neither will ever be Björk-sized of profile, but each is creating engrossing, romantic music that transcends genres.

Ten is just Ten, and I guess for all their reservations, the band have come to accept that: there’s no mystery to the new cover, just Pearl Jam in plain view, big shorts and all.

Her second full length is a compelling pleasure that rewards additional listens.

While the likelihood of Surfing The Void achieving the same levels of critical or commercial success that Myths Of The Near Future enjoyed is debatable, Klaxons' status as one of the most confounding entities in the UK's languid music scene is cemented.

The raw elements are present, but Rossi is only 22, and has much time. Nevertheless this EP is a consistent 20 minutes of raw beauty, and holds as much worth in itself as it does in the anticipation of what could follow.

The unwillingness to risk emotional connection seen on Mars meant it often slipped into the background, but the shift to more straightforward songcraft and the continuing successful genre fusion means Mean Love both demands and rewards attention.

Baby 81 is simply BRMC doing what they do best, and for the first time since their debut record six years ago they actually sound like a band that enjoyed themselves while making this album.

Make no mistake, these are all energising pop tunes, but by the time you reach the seventh track, you’re left wondering how many of them you can take in one go.

This is an often bold and sometimes brilliant offering, even if its heart is more mechanical than you may hope for.

Even with these flirtations with violins and brass, Let’s Wrestle are still the band they’ve always been: self-deprecating, scruffy and charming.

The announcement of XOXO, Panda And The New Kid Revival heralded if not a double-footed leap of joy, certainly a raised eyebrow and fuzzy, dual sense of a) knowing exactly what to expect and b) being pretty happy about it.

Under closer scrutiny, a three song lull holds it back from being as powerful as it might have been, but I’m happier listening to this flawed, fumbled and underdeveloped Kanye record than I am a thousand other records that came out this year and didn’t even try to change the world.

For all its celebrity tricks and years of pipeline evolution, ‘Auf Der Maur’ still has all the hallmarks of the debut record.

Maniac Meat is only really disappointing when compared to what came before, because try as it might, it can neither supercede nor outdo its predeces at it's own game.

On the whole sometimes the production frills work and other times they sound a bit too much. But either way his solid songwriting skills and lyrical wizardy remains and makes sure that when you listen to this, that you're not gonna anywhere else except in Deez land.

Push the Sky Away, then, is not the Bad Seeds at their zenith, but pretty bloody spectacular for a fifteenth (or seventeenth, or twentieth) album.

Live uses Simian Mobile Disco’s past to signpost their future--resulting in a record which is occasionally frustrating and even underwhelming, but one which is also a demonstration of confident execution, and a promising forecast of mature dance music to come.

While it may be the most proficient musical record that Morrissey has put out in aeons... it doesn’t quite measure up to the high standards set by You Are The Quarry or the superlative debut that was Viva Hate.

Mostly, A Pink Sunset… is truly beautiful background music, gently chiming and pulsing and ricocheting off of itself and into your subconscious.

It sits alone in his cannon as being slightly uncomfortable but in turn is a brilliantly concise work (it runs to a little over 30 minutes).

When they push the boat out and go prog on the lengthy title track (which clocks in at a wildly indulgent near-four-minutes) the effect is one of ethereal loveliness, a lysergic suspension of normalcy as the band’s warming lo-fi offers a moment of transportation.

Much like kindred spirits The Beta Band once did, this is a band plugging the gap between pop finesse and esoteric art school gristle without reverting to gimmicks or cliche. And, for Found, that's very little to be surprised about.

Initially overwhelming, Gamel is a gloriously bonkers concoction of flavours that turns out to be extremely delicious indeed.