No Grace is a short and concise album that's quick on its points: do your best, don't give up and have some fun.

Plaid remain enjoyable, if a little stuck in a rut.

On You Will Never Be One of Us, Nails are simply on another level and, though others will have a tough time reaching it, they should all still aspire to it.

Magma demonstrates a healthy admission and channelling of Gojira's explosive tendencies into a record that is truly an intriguing change of pace when considering the band's more eruptive past efforts.

Fans of the band will enjoy the mature and practiced sound of this very good album, but the unconvinced might remain so, as the band don't exactly reinvent the wheel on The Glowing Man.

What this songwriting team has to offer isn't just pretty, though it can be that--it's also pretty profound, passionate and substantial.

As a debut, it perfectly captures the band's personality and sound: captivating, incomparable and deliciously unique.

The depth and creativity the producer has employed make this album stand out as an example of ambient music at its most compelling.

The musicians' playing retains the band's typically muscular vigour, but has taken on extra nuance.

Bringing in a slew of analog instruments, mostly to give each track its own disposition, Lissvik pulls together swinging piano, shuffling guitar, drums and loads of modular synth lines, and though he does a great job of keeping the album instrumentally diverse, he falls into the same textural and spatial avenues throughout much of the album.

What this album does extremely well, though, is convey the emotional reality of the protagonist using these moody electronics and tempo changes.

Cutler has riddled these tracks with a rainbow of synth ripples, making Levitate stand out immediately as a Lone record, despite heavily harkening back to a bygone era.

Tooth demonstrates Raime as multi-dimensional musicians, even if you have to travel through a black hole to get to those dimensions.

Diarrhea Planet's self-indulgence and cheesy grandiosity might be less appealing if it wasn't so tongue-in-cheek--that's a huge advantage of being a band that doesn't take itself all that seriously. It also makes Turn to Gold a boisterous and joyful affair. But reaching these new levels of gaudiness, they risk being written off as a gimmick

Some variation in production style and sonic approach might lend the proceedings a bit more variety, but that's a relatively minor quibble to level at this confident album; these guys do what they do well, and know it.

Nothing on Breakin' Point really hits as hard as their earlier work. Peter Bjorn and John are having fun on this album, but occasionally get a little lost in the dance moves.

Eyes on the Lines is unmistakably a guitarist's album, yet luckily for most, Gunn's song writing is also remarkably accessible. The listener may not find themselves with catchy vocal hooks stuck in their head after a first listen, but they'll definitely be humming riffs and guitar lines for several hours afterward.

Over seven tracks, Moonface and Siinai expertly pair Krug's iconic warble with instrumental propulsion that showcases a more positive and collaborative side to the team's sound.

The result is a sonically coherent, and impressive, album that dances on the borders of multiple subgenres without ever really taking a full dive into any one.

The depth of these cuts will depend on your familiarity with electro-funk and its history, but there should be enough here to satisfy even the most literate of fans, and for newcomers to Dâm's sound, it's a fine primer.

There will no doubt be some making the age-old "less is more" argument that comes with any double LP, but that shouldn't overshadow the fact that DIIV have returned with a powerful, immersive sophomore album.

With The Dreaming Room, Mvula has mined her personal conflicts to yield beautiful, boundary-pushing artistry. It's fearless, meditative, soulful and buoyant all at once.

At its best, it sounds like a long-lost Pink Floyd album actually meant to be synced to The Wizard of Oz (the album's title track and "Mr. Wright"); at its worst, it evokes old Tame Impala (the first movement of "Cricket And The Genie" and "Boomerang Baby"). Basically, it's a win-win situation either way.

Modern Country is a conceptually ambitious, heartfelt undertaking. Some might notice the lack the unbridled colour that characterized Impossible Truth, but ultimately, it isn't enough to hinder the listener's experience.

The record does play a bit like a return trip through familiar terrain, but for the most part, Love You to Death finds Tegan and Sara offering another solid soundtrack for summer romances and road-trips alike.

Ology's idiosyncrasies and emotional exhibitionism make for a genuinely honest, captivating listen.

The Kills' fifth studio album might not bring anything particularly new and groundbreaking to their discography, but it certainly won't disappoint fans.

A detailed effort worth unfolding that reveals more each time.