The consistency here comes in the form of non-stop, solid tracks; there isn't a bad recording on this whole album, which is no easy feat.

Due to the first half's measly runtime (half of its high octane songs clock in at under three minutes) and heavy as hell ending, listening to Clone of the Universe kind of feels like visiting a tapas bar with a few friends, only to drunkenly venture off at the end of the night to slam down a whole duck, solo (and no, that's not a euphemism): it's a journey most would avoid making, but a compelling one for those willing to roll the dice and ride.

Your Hero Is Not Dead is an impressively contemplative debut album, filled with quiet music that packs a surprising emotional punch.

The record’s more direct first half may appeal to those who want their old school IDLES fix, but repeated listens to its rangier second half reveal an emotional complexity and sonic cohesion that have long escaped the band. Suddenly, there’s reason to be excited about where IDLES are headed.

Like your favourite beer, Municipal Waste are reliable and will whet your whistle for thrash, a comparison the band would welcome with arms, or mouths, wide open.

Seamlessly weaving complexity into internal rhymes in verses and the overall thematic premise, PTSD excels at both micro and macro levels.

The subdued star-crossed is unlikely to garner the same commercial success as Golden Hour. It isn't carried by standout singles or big beats, but the album isn't seeking that kind of external validation. It stands alone in its vulnerability.

On All or Nothing, Shopping talk big and play loud, showing their sharp sense of what makes people move. It's an album that just can't wait to be released, to spread its way through a gathered crowd — and, at last, to watch the motion begin.

While Northern Chaos Gods unmistakably sounds just like Immortal, one can't help but wonder how amazing of an album it could have been had Abbath been involved to complete the phenomenal trio that Immortal once were.

Bless This Mess feels like a rebirth; a boundless, alien take on Remy's explosive art-pop, its conceptual wildness and sonic friskiness allowing her to flex her vision and sense of humour in brand new ways.

It works because of its twitchy pop sensibilities, which gaze longingly back at the '80s, and while that isn't a bad thing, it's still a hard record to get attached to.

With enough panache to warrant a full-length release, Seasonal Hire is an all-too brief look into four musicians' quest to push their music further.

Boasting a bigger sound with better songwriting, Deep Fantasy pulls no punches, yet still emerges as White Lung's boldest and most accessible album to date.

By giving their songs more directness, Local Business succeeds in what the band set out to do: present Titus Andronicus as a charged, dynamic live band.

FOREVER sees Charly Bliss firmly planting roots for themselves within the pop sphere with a sense of purpose and playful, joyous intention that even well-seasoned pop bands struggle to do.

A good portion of Total Folklore finds Friel treading the same murky path, leaving the listener with brazen, barefaced ideas and shambling, barefoot execution.

Most of the risks he takes on Criminal pay off, and the record is among his most confident statements as an artist.

Though the stouter vocals have given the band more confidence for moments of melodic bombast, occasionally they sound out of place.

While not flawlessly executed, Common arguably regains some of the relevance he may have lost from his last couple of albums with the focus of Nobody's Smiling.

The pair share an uncanny symbiosis, which is quite clearly demonstrated on Concrete Desert.

Death Dreams is the perfect example of a "same but better" second outing giving fans more of what they love while presenting something new to consider for those who weren't sucked in the first time around

This is a lovely record with enough autumnal tones to ensure that you'll still be listening to it in six months' time.

Alvvays' debut feels like a warm and fuzzy memory, forging a deeper sense of nostalgia with each repeat visit.

If hippie songstresses, piercing sopranos and meandering song craftsmanship are your bag, this album is certainly for you.

As I Lay Dying bring no surprises to the table, they just continue to hone their craft and do it better than the countless clones that have popped up in their wake.

This is clearly their best work to date.

There is a catchiness to the song structures that occasionally brushes against an industrial influence.

It's the raw and relentless aggression of Reach Beyond the Sun as a whole that makes it worth the listen.