There are a couple of marvellous moments – namely the shapeshifting Mezzanine and the agonising regret of Finalist – but often Spiral In A Straight Line settles into itself too much.

True, it’s also an often familiar-sounding form – that same chord progression at varying speeds, faster than Bad Religion, slower than NOFX – but they also sound like themselves again.

Bleak as all hell, then, yet somehow this uncompromising music seems so in tune with the times that Chat Pile could genuinely be on the cusp of a major breakthrough. Don’t miss out.

No Obligation documents the result of resilience and hard work, and makes for a listen that’s enjoyable regardless of musical preference or taste.

Sløtface’s third album leaves the feeling of a musical outfit undergoing a bit of a rebirth, but one that’s brimming with promise. Don’t bet against Haley making this new incarnation of Sløtface even better as they continue to find their sound.

The greatest achievement is how easy to swallow this all is. The shifts between chonky riffs and mellower, jazzy polyrhythms and gorgeous David Gilmour-ish guitar solos are so smooth as to be in some way unnoticeable as they happen.

It's a record as sweet as 20 pumpkin spice lattes, with Gravity ('She keeps pulling me like gravity, everywhere she goes') and Perfume ('I wanna make you my girl / I wanna make you my world') sticking out as notable offenders, while the equally syrupy Kiss Me Again is also a little boilerplate. That said, it’s all rather endearing, especially for those who relate enough to the sentiment to be swept up by it.

It’s not, in fact, an exaggeration to say that there are moments on this album that almost replicate the visceral intensity of vomiting. Partly that’s due to Michael’s guttural growls, a voice that rattles and chokes on itself as it exits his mouth. Around it, though, is a brutally cacophonous swirl of sound that, especially on the title-track, is harrowing and – oddly, paradoxically, confusingly – comforting.

The Essex star’s already demonstrated that she’s adept at crafting a banger that plays in your brain on loop for hours, but she’s somehow improved the recipe of whatever secret sauce goes in these songs.

At it’s core, it’s an endearing celebration of friendship and life’s small joys. Contrary to Dune Rats’ self-deprecating quip, this record doesn’t suck at all, but turn it up anyway.

A record that contains a number of inspiring moments, but, on the whole, Another Day doesn't quite assert itself in the context of their back catalogue.

This time out, there is greater maturity in every note. Bea’s trademark indie-folk stylings haven’t been left behind. If anything, they eclipse her grungier tendencies this time out. But on songs like the outstanding Ever Seen and Tie My Shoes there’s less lo-fi fragility and more a strident, sunbeaten warmth akin to peak Phoebe Bridgers or even latter-day Tay Tay herself.

Those who are only after heavy guitars in their music won’t be completely satisfied. .... But this stunning, expansive collection of songs delivers exactly what this torrid world needs: a simultaneous celebration and indictment that will stand the test of time for decades to come.

Confidently delivered and teeming with ideas, it flies by as much because of its urgency as its cohesion.

The template is similar to that of their youngest selves. The knockout rock and roll riffs of guitarist Billy Zoom almost shrug at the lyrical company they’re required to keep.

Irreverence and wilful expendability means quality control goes out the window. Denzel’s titular mischievousness and biting charisma can do a lot of heavy lifting, but with everyone from TiaCorine and A$AP Ferg (HOT ONE) to Ty Dolla $ign and Juicy J (COLE PIMP) piling in, it’s a turbulent flow. Fortunately, flashes of genius keep shining through.

Six years since their last full-length release, this is the sound of one of desert rock’s greatest bands digging deep – and delivering all the groovy brilliance we’ve come to expect.

Unquestionably the most proggy proposition on the album, this tune [L’Enfant De La Lune] shifts through different passages like a receptacle for all the musical touches Alcest have at their disposal. As such, it’s part of a listening experience which often feels like something of a journey, and if the specific destination is ambiguous, the direction is very much into the light.

The guitarist is so focused he has arguably delivered a stronger, more consistent collection than Slayer’s last two albums, for From Hell I Rise slays from start to finish.

Amid softer, acoustic-led material are jubilant anthems like Walls Of Jericho, the biggest-hearted, most openly singable Bon Jovi track for many years. We Made It Look Easy and My First Guitar salute the past in different ways, but both are fond and emotive rather than chest-beating, and Living In Paradise is another big chorus showpiece that grows in both momentum and feels.

This is simultaneously both the most pulverising and the most memorable release the band have put their name to in years.

Having created a monster, BMTH have proven themselves equal to matching the creative demands it’s placed on them. What a re-GeN-eration.

Musically, it radiates personality. There’s an intimate quality to Clancy that feels like you’re not only right there with Tyler, witnessing him spill his guts, but also in the studio with the frontman and drummer Josh Dun as they giddily experiment and let it all out. They’ve long been one of alternative music’s most unique bands, but on Clancy there’s a confidence in showcasing absolutely everything they’re capable of.

What is surprising, however, is how deep into gloom Dark Superstition dives, and the subtlety with which its cocktail of abyssal heaviness and velvety melody works its way under the skin.

This one is a masterclass in delivering musical precision with an undercarriage of scuzz and tension. The likes of Tattoos and Days Are Dogs retain the minimalist vision that has coursed through Shellac since their earliest releases.

Knocked Loose are at the head of the pack. Throw all the hype and viral Coachella moments around you want, it’s the music that matters, and this isn’t just their best record yet, it’s one of the best albums of the year. And somehow, it feels like they’re only just getting started.

SELF HELL, is their most fearless. The 12-track collection mediates its electronic curveballs with the melodic metalcore mash-up that Sleeps have pioneered over their career, blended to masterful effect.

If this is, indeed, the end, it’s a wonderful and profound way with which to say goodbye. It would, however, be a great shame if this was the last we ever hear from Aaron West, because this is more than an album. It’s an actual life.