O’Connor has a clarity of purpose and a truly unique sound that is perfectly suited to his vision of suburban nihilism.

Whilst they dream of a home that can no longer be found, there is some comfort to be found here in the new family they are building around them with the power of their music.

Considering the genre was built around reinventing itself at every corner, their long-term commitment to a fairly narrow sound may surprise some, but nevertheless, this is another strong entry in the Dutch Uncles catalogue.

A little moderated, perhaps, but more mature too. For the first time in years, we are able to imagine that Ounsworth’s best work might still be ahead of him, rather than behind him.

This record is a testament to its creators’ endurance. It has also resulted in an absolute creative peak.

Life Will See You Now doesn’t quite hit the heights of 2007-era Lekman, but in his mid-thirties, Gothenburg’s favourite son remains a vital artist. May it not be another five years before he returns.

This isn’t background noise, it demands your attention through its rich and layered compositions. But it's never overly fussy, rather it’s maximalism through a less is more approach.

Prisoner isn’t a heartbreak record--it’s potentially the heartbreak record, for my generation at least. Turns out sadness really is quite the currency.

Big and bold when it hits, underwhelming and otherwise transient elsewhere, it’s a debut that manages to occasionally impress while leaving a lot to be desired.

[Darcy's] never sounded more relaxed, more relieved to be relaxed--and the soft edges, the familiar refrains, the gentle tones, they’re all windows to that light in [him].

The tenderness, and longing in her songs are inescapable; it’s subtle and affectionateness are feelings long sought after in today’s landscape. We should long for more Khouri.

The problem with Human (the album) is that it feels like it’s been over tooled for success, that the commercial facets of his talents have been blown up at the expense of what might have actually made him interesting.

Quite the mess all told.

Alas, The Temple of I & I, does not hit the high benchmarks of prior quality. Very much a Thievery album in its own right, with the tropical rhythms alongside the DC-based musicians approach to studio-dub, the LP falls short of the classic peak moments of the past.

Past, present, and future rest patiently before Hoop, and she’s weaved them all into her most endearing album yet.

Going forward, The Molochs may want to deviate a bit from the formula they used on America’s Velvet Glory, which gets pretty well worn even though the record is fairly compact at only 11 tracks, but it works well as both a cohesive throwback and a character study.

This attempt to marry together two equally confrontational (in their own distinct ways) musical forms reaps real rewards, and undoubtedly makes Wake in Fright a more consistently provocative record than the duo’s debut.

Occult Architecture Vol. 1 makes for a sorcerous entreaty to dig that little bit deeper when weighing up the relationship--and clearly quite inspiring power--of the inner world and the outer realm. Here’s hoping the second installment delivers just as forcefully.

Bursting with new inspiration and direction, After the Party is the triumphant sound of a songwriting duo reaping the rewards of those sacrifices, a group of friends on an unstoppable streak of home runs.

Little Fictions, their seventh, is, reliably, a very good Elbow album.

A rather average document, already a relic on arrival, with about three standout songs among a soporific wash of over-polished Flying Nun imitations.

As the inclusion of the Neil Armstrong quote suggests, this is a step back towards the sunlight. Where that step leads remains to be seen, but this process has already produced a classic debut album.

He has followed up the exceptional Sleep with yet another dazzling work that is “full of echoes, of memories, of associations” that celebrate and reflect this towering writer.

There’s plenty of Near to the Wild Heart of Life that carries the essential appeal of the band in spades, namely, a dedication to giving it your all until you collapse with euphoria and exhaustion.

There is a classic aesthetic that underpins every facet of these recordings. Everything is calculated and nothing has been left to chance. So sit back, and fully immerse yourself in a sonic experience unlike anything else released this year.

Dougall’s voice, which is always sounds faintly sad (all the best voices do) laying a melancholic consistency across the whole thing. Star-shaped indeed.

Basinski brings to his craft an understanding that music structures time just as much as time structures music. Among his most entrancing work.