This isn't going to be one of the classic Slayer albums, but there's still plenty of good thrash to be found on Repentless.

It's a pleasant surprise to hear that he's capable of so much more.

Finn was able to dial the swagger back for Faith In The Future and replace it with nuance, subtlety; sonically, it allows him room to breathe, to let new characters and stories thrive in softer moments.

Condon is at the heart of each song, so while a hopeful tone is central to both the music and lyrics, No No No is a portrait of a man putting on a brave face while piecing his life back together, and it's all the more engaging for it.

Like the other entries in the series, Empire also offers up plenty of B-sides and demo takes for the completists, but laying everything out bare for us still doesn't exactly explain the West coast phenomenon known as Unwound.

Self-produced and written almost entirely while isolated in a lake house outside of Mexico City, Me is Rodriguez' most fully-formed artistic statement yet, an intensely personal, self-assured outing that cements her as a powerhouse producer, sonically harkening back to her Colorminutes days and establishing her as an expert songwriter.

K-os hasn't been this experimental or fun to listen to since his 2004 classic Joyful Rebellion. It's a thrill to hear him return to the creative stratosphere once again on Can't Fly.

There's enough here to satiate fans--"I Don't Like Who I Was Then" is as good as their best work--but there's an underlying sense that for the first time, the Wonder Years have missed the mark.

Kadavar attempt to create something that is both memorable and cool here, but despite all its hooks and melodies, Berlin ultimately falls short.

The Anthropocene Extinction is another stroke of genius by one of the best heavy bands of all time.

Sure, some of the performances aren't perfect, at times sounding downright ragged and sloppy, but that's the glory of a loud, fast and sweaty live punk rock show, here captured in all its glory as the band plough through songs from all eras of their history, finding the common thread between the old basement-punk anthems and the slick arena-punk rockers of later years in a shockingly profound manner.

As the whole, though, Discreet Desires is more introverted than Hauff's previous material. She's attempted to present a unified piece with this album, rather than a selection of similar tracks, and it's a gambit that's paid off in spades.

Too often, the album is weighed down by pedantic, average beats and too many run of the mill guest verses, indicating Meth's generosity is a bit of a weakness. Ultimately, it dilutes The Meth Lab's potency.

The theme of perseverance resonates strongly on the album, and the imperfections and vulnerabilities in his vocals help to encapsulate the artistic progression.

In shedding the shackles of expectation, FIDLAR finally found their soul.

Beauty Behind the Madness proves that the Weeknd can thrive in the mainstream, and while the lyrics aren't overtly profound, he's proven that he is more versatile than previously thought, which is perhaps of greater importance at this stage in his career.

While it doesn't offer up any game changers, it does provide a snapshot of Kompakt's eclectic and, ultimately, satisfying vision of electronic music in 2015.

What Went Down shows Foals coming into their own and excelling at blending the styles they have explored over previous records to create a varied and textured offering that will add depth to their high-energy live shows.

Check this out if you are a devoted member of the Pentagram coven, but otherwise, stick to the classics.

It's a diverse mixture of sounds delivered in a cohesive and well-arranged package.

Unlike those of many of their contemporaries, this album isn't offering much faux hard-won wisdom, and there's no late-night barstool proselytizing to speak of. Instead, Start Here channels the naïve wonder, genuine openness, and hopeful abandon of post-adolescence.

Production and keys aside, Turkey isn't much of a departure for Krol, but it may finally get him the recognition he deserves on the higher-profile Merge Records.

Pickpocket's Locket stands as some of Mercer's most urgent and terse work to date.

Anyone who doesn't fall for Depression Cherry's hypnotic splendour probably just isn't a Beach House fan, or didn't live with the album long enough. But those who do will recognize this album as the sweeping, grand gesture they've been working up to giving us for the last nine years.

Collaboration clearly suits Destroyer well: after ten albums in close to two decades, the band still sound as vital and inventive as ever, and they're operating at the top of their game on Poison Season.

A mysterious, sprawling listen that will baffle the masses, but reward patient listeners longing for an LP that is immersive, quirky and gently haunting.

The tracks are of such quality, though, that their position as part of something larger is mostly irrelevant.

Produced by Garm of Ulver, the textures of M are even more finely hewn and interwoven than its predecessor, resulting in a record that is at once profoundly tactile and deeply sensual.