There's plenty of promise to find within Arbor Labor Union's sanguine psych, but there's still a little further to go before the pinecones become trees with any real weight about them.

It is a formidably layered, beautiful record that largely lacks big hooks or aggressive bite, and yet conspires to be endlessly satisfying on a micro level, a clutch of ballads that represent the band's most intricate musical trip.

While perhaps not as immediate or instantly accessible as Eagulls, it represents a marked progression for a band seemingly intent on developing themselves at every possible juncture.

It’s this gentle tension between rigidity and fluidity which makes this a brilliant record. There’s enough repetition to draw you into its ambient landscape, but enough deviation to provide surprise and detail.

Testarossa is an album that gets better with each listen.

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.

This release strikes the perfect balance between pummelling the listener over the head with riffs and rewarding their shredded eardrums with hooks and honesty.

Drake is far too talented to turn in an album of dregs, and a lot of the content featured of Views is of the same breed of quality we would expect, like the instantly contagious 'Grammys', featuring Future. But for him to be so often contented with merely satisfactory results is somehow much more disappointing than a total failure.

Setting out its tracklisting in almost chronological order of release makes Another Splash Of Colour an even more engaging listen.

Nerrisimo is indeed a dark piece of work, but it’s all the more sublime for it.

By far the most accessible and pop-sounding recordings he has recorded in years, here the ship Eno references might serve the dual function as symbolising his own soul finding tranquility in the music once again.

Like most of the album, “Soft Place to Land” is precise in language, but not in meaning. The album’s songwriting strength lies primarily in this sort of poesy, as effective as it is understated, and resisting paraphrase.

X-Treme Now is an intriguing, often entertaining bit of art from a duo that seem locked into a long-running lark that sometimes, perhaps accidentally or even incidentally, delivers the genuine article, sometimes makes do with platitudes and sidelong, distancing glances, but more often than not is a summery slab of fun.

The mix of genres and presentation doesn’t always segue as well as they might, and strangely given that mix, it could do with being a little more radical at times. That said there’s plenty to enjoy and it’s often fun to hear these iconic works in unfamiliar fashion.

Musically it’s the first half of the album that shows us a new side of Beyoncé, one that thrives in dark atmospheres and minimalism in a way her music never did before.

Last Evenings on Earth is as vast and sprawling as their self-titled debut, yet at the same time it’s concise and refined.

There may be reference points aplenty throughout Nonagon Infinity and its creators make-up but King Gizzard & The Wizard Lizard sure know how to put their own spin on things. And in doing so have created their finest body of work to date.

The first few tracks on Oh Inhuman Spectacle set a high bar not quite maintained throughout, but still, the record is a promising début and a perfect soundtrack for those mysterious twilight hours.

In concert, the results of these expanded horizons will sit among an enhanced and emboldened set list. On record, though, this feels an uneven entry; too self-conscious in its attempt to transcend the expectations of contemporary Welsh language music.

Imarhan is the sound the band have spent their whole lives perfecting and it comes across like a best of. Given that they've probably got a lot more in the back catalogue that didn't make the cut for this album, there's definitely more to come from the Imarhan arsenal, but this is a great start.

The contrasting movements, the peaks and troughs, the brightness and darkness and the intensity and calmness allow you room to think and to breathe. Triangle is truly massive and mesmerising.

With Nocturnal Koreans Wire have done it again, leaving you with that craving for more: More noise. More weirdness. More bloody Wire.

At just 39 minutes long, it’s spectacularly brief, especially for Dälek (2007’s Abandoned Language, for example, stretches to 63 minutes) but brevity here works in their favour, as there’s very little fat that needs trimming.

City Sun Eater in the River of Light is also one of 2016’s most interesting and restrained records so far.

Despite his vocal inflexions bearing more than a passing resemblance to those of the great man, he is a formidable artist in his own right with an ever-expanding canon of powerful and affecting songs. Not everything works quite as well.

This is a record of sweeping complexity, that captures the raw energy Deftones have always thrived upon without eschewing the benefits of an intelligent eye being cast over the production.

On the opening ‘Distant Dream’, where a nagging, urgent keyboard line recalls classic Halloween-era Carpenter, until the creepy effect is undermined by some big, thumping power-drums that come off as more dated than retro. Its an ongoing problem across a record that is often enjoyable, but just as often frustrating.

Channeling both experience and innocence into his first solo collection. Against all odds, Omori has conjured up a solid debut that should ensure a bright future lies ahead.