For sure, dollops of Franz, Blur and Supergrass have been whisked into this epileptic mix of guttural, quick-witted punk-pop but Little Death is no pre-packaged ready-bake; it’s an improvised, home-cooked palate-whetter, coated in rhythm and sprinkled with bite.

This is a work oft-enchanting and tenderly relayed: the sound of a first hand both confident and considered, whetting the appetite for more from this young American with a stately flourish.

The music frequently bludgeons the listener into wondering why the song wasn't cut dead about three minutes ago.

It’s little over 20 minutes long, and has incredibly sparse, softly organic arrangements, but Hard Rubbish succeeds in achieving a density which makes the LP feel twice its length, conveying the slowness of time spent in sorrowful solitude perfectly, and--most amazingly of all--succeeding in turning the absence of feeling into something intensely affecting.

Dignified, confident and packed full of elevating song structures, Piano Ombre is an album many will find euphorically addictive.

In its own oblique way, Shaken-Up Versions is the sound of The Knife having fun.

The Southern gothic touches strewn throughout the album help make this their best set of angry anthems to date.

The resulting work, and meeting of two minds who admire and compliment each others creativity, is something of rare, imaginative depth.

It’s hard to know whether he’s released the most cohesive, and immediate, collection of songs first, or as the series goes on it’ll get more abstract and ethereal. Either way this is an artist, and series of releases, to embrace and get excited about.

It’s esoteric and unsettling, because he’s done trying to reason with us.

Planet Of Ice is an oddly sour letdown, a high-quality album that suffers only from the reception and perception of its forefathers.

There’s nothing tacky or horrendous or artificial about It’s a Holiday Soul Party at all; it’s simply the sound of a band who understand all of these things, and have made a holiday soul party of an album in order to celebrate them.

Frustrating... We know that the Beta Band have one jaw-dropping album in them. 'Hot Shots' was nearly it, but certainly this is not.

While 25 25 is an uneasy listen at first, it's worth the perseverance even when giving up seems like the only plausible option.

Promise delivered, divided by expectations frenzied, multiplied by still-evident potential for future releases… equals a Pitchfork-style 8.6.

With Peanut Butter, Joanna Gruesome have raised the bar.

It is more fluid, more subtle; as such, it pulls you in gradually, irresistibly, its icy black under-current taking hold when you least expect it.

After the misfire of Living With The Living this is a content, relaxed record with nothing to prove. Ted Leo is a man un-fussily playing to his strengths.

Out Of Touch In The Wild feels like an album album, with the tracks naturally feeling their way to one another, but with enough stand out moments to show how far Dutch Uncles have progressed since they recorded that debut in Germany.

Me Moan is a remarkable record that takes a genre rooted in formulae and clichés--country--and spins it into something fresh, compelling and edgy. A stunning follow up.

The Gotobeds are as incendiary (and/or combustible) as ever.

Divorced from the accompanying visuals, the exercise proves less engaging overall. In context, however, it is legitimately hypnotic and soothing, as if Bob Ross was reincarnated with woodwork on the brain.

If you are willing to be patient it offers more surprises than you'd expect, flourishing on repeated plays.

Sleeker, stronger and more confident than ever, on Complete Surrender Slow Club flourish with each strum and every breath.

The Rapture have kept all the ingredients from their previous successes, but they have forgot to ignite the oven.

There aren't quite enough ideas here to sustain a 17-song LP, and despite being a not-unreasonable hour long, it's a struggle to listen through the final few tracks.

Ultimately, Peaches shows herself developing, late in her career, but unlikely to infiltrate the market she's targeted.

Classic Futureheads tracks are reimagined with quadratic complexity, with polyphonic rhythms weaving in and out of time, and piercingly tight multi-tracked vocals. On a technical level, it is brilliant... But let's face it – Rant isn't the sort of album you're going to listen to every day.