The arrival of Little Heater, only Irwin's second solo album, is therefore a notable event, and nothing about it disappoints.

Vocals, samples and soundscapes are all treated as equals, resulting in a slurry of sound that remarkably works both as a mixtape comedown and as a salient whole.

Tempest is a mixed bag of ideas at best, many of which would be better served by someone like Tom Waits.

What makes Sun so exquisite is that Marshall finally sounds in control of her chaos.

Sensual, artful and accessible, it is easily one of the best pop albums of the year.

Cruel Summer has too few of these transcendent moments and is decidedly less than the sum of its parts.

The 47 minutes diced into 17 tracks that consitute Breakthrough demonstrate what Gaslamp Killer is capable of.

This is beautiful stuff and my favourite yet from Deepchord.

Minerva (née Juur) takes a few steps closer to the blurry line that separates quirky, home-taped experiments and straight-up club cuts.

Total Loss is a brave effort by an artist who's clearly not afraid to show vulnerability through risk-taking and soul baring.

That's not to say Young Blood is bad, but mediocrity shouldn't attract attention so fast.

Despite sounding more like Radiohead's wistful indie-pop nephews than the genuine article, alt-J are a group offering moderate experimentalism that'll serve as an effective gateway for younger fans.

Rather than make giant artistic leaps every few years or so, Woods are content to push forward incrementally, showering fans with material that nonetheless gets better every record.

I Bet on Sky isn't the immediate winner that Farm was, but it's emphasis on tunefulness versus smack-you-in-the-face noise makes for a surprising winner and a pleasant late career left turn that gets better with each listen.

It's a shame to find Grizzly Bear spinning their wheels.

Their no-frills approach to doom is dark and incredibly heavy, but deliciously uncompromising. While it takes a few tracks for the band to shine through, it is worth the wait.

Coexist is far from a bad effort. Gentle sophisticates that the XX are, however, it's hardly surprising that the cutting edge got a little too sharp.

A hip-hop blues record is an interesting concept and in Koala's nimble hands, a unique listening experience.

The results are sporadic and schizophrenic, in the sense that it's hard to pinpoint a solid foundation within the album, and easy to get lost in its infectious melodies.

Overall this is a meditative collection that eloquently expresses a great deal of uncomfortable feelings few other songwriters are capable of addressing.

Instead of taking the easy route of creating a love letter to New Orleans, the band went in the opposite direction, continuing to lead American music into the future.

There's definitely a familiarity to their sound, but once you get past the derivativeness of it all, there's much to like about Toy.

Steam Days should finally break Fake free of Boards of Canada's imposing shadow. Fake is for real.

It is the best electronic extrapolation of the beauty and subtlety of one of the world's great rhythm nations since Bill Laswell's Imaginary Cuba almost 15 years ago.