So while it’s still tough to classify his sound, Silver Wilkinson is Bibio’s most streamlined recording to date.

The new record by Vampire Weekend is the best alternative pop album you will hear this year. Unselfconscious, technically brilliant in a way that crucially you will never actually notice, shimmering with beautiful, strange melodies and just a small smidge of actual bonkers.

This might not be their finest work, but it’s the best thing they’ve made in at least a decade.

Songs Cycled has everything you’d want from Van Dyke Parks and from an album. By being true to the Van Dyke Parks’ perception of what an album should contain, his music sounds as though it is from a different planet.

Fink still seems to be finding the confidence in his voice that when it’s pushed is truly wonderful, but most of time a little dreary and unconscious. That aside, this is a lovely little record for folk fans who like a Seventies scuff.

Some Say I So I Say Light is the attempt to merge a lone voice into the black of the vast, surrounding landscape, and it succeeds absorbingly well.

Four's own structure helps this insisted variety stick together, resulting in another piece of theatrical songwriting that confirms Harvey's genius as an arranger.

A welcome, and ultimately pleasurable return.

The great thing about rkives, though, is that as much as it constitutes an absolute boon for long-time fans, it works as a fine introduction to the band on its own merit.

There's plenty of interesting stuff going on throughout.

It’s kind of sloppy, but it also sounds pretty astonishing cranked up loud, and despite the mixed emotional messages I suspect it’ll find its calling this summer as the band’s most fun album.

Amply weighted for a debut, Silence Yourself comprises a balance of really excellent stuff and the simply very good.

Ultramarine moves Young Galaxy from being a great indie band to being a great band, full stop. The songs profoundly move the body and the psyche in equal measure.

Ready to Die isn't the missing sequel to Raw Power, but it is a masterclass in writing a big, dumb punk album with occasional touches of emotional depth.

An odd little journey, but one worth making.

A joyous but intricate album, Edgeland is a perfectly paced outlet for Hyde’s cryptic urban snapshots.

Hi Beams is an album that delights and baffles in almost equal measures.

Praxis Makes Perfect only suffers in comparison to its predecessor in that it lacks a clear standout track in the same vein as Stainless Style’s ‘I Told Her On Alderaan’, but it works better as a cohesive record.

Volume 3 is essential listening and another triumph.

The results, in this still-formative period of their development, have been predictably mixed.

The record loses its way a touch over its second half, ultimately lacking the songwriting craft to deliver emotional gratification, though it’s naggingly close.

A few tracks towards the end of In Guards We Trust will maybe sound better once you’ve fully absorbed the single fodder of the record, but the psychedelic moments of ‘Your Man’ just don’t hit the spot for me as they may for fans of later MGMT noise.

Space Ducks is a must have for fans, and a superb introduction for those unfamiliar with his work.

Ultimately, it’s all just too lazy. Yes, I know that’s the point, but this really is slacking overkill.

Lyrically, the album only deteriorates into further embarrassment.

This album is Grubb’s most cinematic and balanced offering yet. It slowly burns through his moods, explores his Western panoramas and phantasmagorical musings.

Birthmarks is probably the most impressive Born Ruffians record to date, but it’s a shame they travelled so far without straying from the middle of the road.

This is not a record for the fair-weather Frank fan, rather one in which he sticks to his story with the stubbornness of a mule.