So while this is a familiar, albeit more polished ride, it’s replete with beautiful moments, such as Black Crown and Gold Long Gone, that stay with you and work on you; it’s music that lovingly infiltrates hearts and minds rather than bludgeoning you over the head with its message.

They’re still the same fiercely independent band that can run rings around an oddball time signature, just now they’re trusting their chemistry and melodic instincts to take them in any direction they wish – and the results kick ass.

There are some lulls, mind. Sometimes the moodiness threatens to drown the melody, and not every track earns its philosophical baggage. .... But Learning Greek is never boring. It's chaotic, clever, and just unhinged enough to charm the eyeliner off your face.

There are moments of genius here. In forging new bonds and attempting to break new ground, METAL FORTH's intentions are noble and the executions occasionally excellent.

Uninterested in taking over the airwaves or lighting up the charts, it is art at its unapologetically visceral peak. More than that, it’s vitriolic fresh proof that absolutely no band is more vital, and that maybe we really would be better burning it all to the ground.

At its best, it’s pure, soul-soothing escapism. And yet, this is only the start – as she grows, she'll evolve and mould everything she’s absorbed into an even more individual sound.

At its best, I Beat Loneliness is revelatory. Elsewhere, sadly, it’s rote. Gavin may claim to have beaten loneliness, but he’s been thwarted by his own ambitions.

We’re left with something that isn’t Volbeat’s best album, but is a candidate for their most interesting.

It’s a go-getter of a record that pays homage to the greats whilst still feeling brand new. YUNGBLUD’s outlandishness makes him a hard pill to swallow for some, but his guts, drive, and devotion to his craft cannot be denied.

21st Century Fiction somehow manages to feel filthy, sexy, and tender all at the same time. In need of an existential crisis but want to feel like a hot rock star at the same time? Please get acquainted with your latest soundtrack to life.

It could slot into the soundtrack of anyone’s life, it has that sort of everyman, indie movie quality. But it’s for him first, and it’s an incredibly pure distillation of who Finn is when he’s not on camera.

Turnstile are ahead of the curve once again and showing what’s possible when you follow your own path.

While not quite the box of delights Garbage shook at us last time, there’s persistent allure in the mating of cavernous soundscapes with Shirley’s penetratingly icy vocals.

They’ve never released an album that embraces creativity this openly. My Greatest Moment, for example, is full of ear-catchingly extracurricular sounds – the sort of thing artists in the NIN-to-Starset bracket specialise in, but without sounding like either. Life’s truth might be painful sometimes, but it’s rarely sounded better.

Written on the road – between hotels and practice rooms across continents – the sense of freewheeling momentum is undoubtedly UNATØNED’s greatest strength, capturing the roadworn charisma and runaway force of the Machine Head 2025 live show. But with it comes a jettisoning of the tonal consistency and sprawling songcraft that defines their finest recorded work.

Perhaps mastering a sense of duality is what Rico Nasty is gunning for – harsh and soft, or trap and rock. At the same time, there’s not quite enough sense of focus to suggest that’s the case. Should she find that, or find a way to blur all these sounds into something cohesive and singular, she could be unstoppable.

Fortunately, Even in Arcadia’s minor quibbles are easily dwarfed by the height of its peaks. It isn’t quite an album of all-timers, but it’s more than enough to bring in wave after wave of gleaming gold spoils all over again.

The highlights are plentiful, from the misanthropic maelstrom of People Person, to the lolloping The Digger You Deep and the Pixies-esque Hate The Polis, but you don’t need to pan for gold when there’s so much of it.

Who Will Look After The Dogs feels more intensely personal than anything the band have made before.

As sweeping final ballad Excelsis picks up where previous closing tracks Life Eternal (Prequelle) and Respite On The Spitalfields (Impera) left off, compelling listeners to live life to the fullest with one eye on the inevitability of death, there’s surely no-one else living quite so deliciously on the level of The Devil.

While only the heads-down opener King Of Rome is presented in a radio-friendly three-minute format, there is much here that could lure newcomers into the twisted soundworld of the Melvins – as long as they don’t expect the next record to sound much like this one.

It’s absolutely fantastic. Where previously their records had sounded like a moment captured, a document of a fire blazing away, this is more controlled and deliberate, where everything arrives with the confidence of a heavyweight champ.

The Velveteers strut across many different dimensions, whether that’s through the means of dreamy ballads like the title-track, the cinematic, swaying Heaven or the hulking blues rock of Moonchild (with a sassy coda that demands that listeners get up and shimmy). It leaves a remarkable impression, so much so that even after a couple of plays, these songs feel like they’ve been in your life forever.

There are certainly moments here where what Pigs… provide is primarily big, dumb fun. But Death Hilarious also finds them thoroughly exploring their sonic and emotional range, the result an album which digs its hooks in deeper than ever.

Only Dust Remains is a brave, powerful and uncompromising album that holds nothing back, either in terms of Ashanti’s own life, or her views about what’s happening outside it. Yet bleak and dark as it is, there’s nevertheless hope to be found here.

Dreams On Toast is spread to the corners with the familiar and the fresh, equal parts self-awareness and self-regard, resulting in their finest album of this, the second coming of The Darkness.

There’s a gleaming shine on everything that fills it all with vitality. Far from a step back, or attempt to redress something, a return to heaviness is simply the next piece of the picture. That you can hear them fair running towards it with refreshed enthusiasm for such things only makes it sing all the louder.

If you loved Eternal Blue, this is the record you’d want to hear next, on which Spiritbox, empowered by confidence, go bigger and (occasionally) stranger. If, however, you felt Eternal Blue wasn’t quite bold enough, then strap in for something choppier.