Smart, confident and put together with a real sense of intrigue, WILLOW’s latest record is a testament to having the belief to forge your own path. As coping mechanisms go, this one sounds like a winner.

As a big, glossy rock record that finds Bush aging both gracefully and garishly, The Art Of Survival is a success, even if it’s unlikely to win over any those who’ve remained immune to the band’s charms so far, and isn’t innovative enough to ensnare new listeners.

Here, her already fulfilled promise is given the opportunity to breathe and find even deeper depths of wonder and intriguing brilliance. Hear it and weep.

It’s perhaps not as instantaneous as the debut, as vile as Iowa or as catchy as Vol. 3, but it offers depth, discomfort and danger to those willing to dive into the recesses of The Nine’s collective consciousness.

As ever, The Wonder Years remain the best in their class. They remain as musically smart, emotionally intelligent, and reassuringly bullshit-free as ever.

So, 13 albums in, Clutch are still uniquely brilliant, master craftsmen of a form at once ingeniously simple and amazingly clever. And one that only they can properly do.

It might not have anything with the same riotous energy as It's A Raid, his punked-up duet with Post Malone that went off like a feral firework, but it still radiates a sense of the thing you love keeping you excited and feeling alive.

Opener The Funeral presents a far less cartoonish performer than he was on 2020's overly-cute second album Weird!. This alone makes the whole thing magnitudes more enjoyable. The energised electro-pop of Memories (a duet with WILLOW) and the brooding Sex Not Violence continue on a similar tack, showing a width of creative goalpost while actually keeping things together.

On The Sick, The Dying… And The Dead!, the war machine is resolutely in-gear. Whatever the cause (COVID weirdness, the sacking of long-time bassist Dave Ellefson, logging onto Twitter for five minutes), it's killer.

Physical Thrills is the sound of a band able to have a deep spring clean and polish up their best sides, to thrilling effect.

Nine records in it is inevitable that anything they do will have a particular sheen, but creatively, in performance, and in energy they continue to operate on a plane all of their own. And in a world of uncertainty, that's a very welcome thing.

It absolutely borrows plenty from all of Brendon’s influences – but that’s not a bad thing. Viva Las Vengeance is both consistently catchy and classic-sounding, and another fine addition to Panic!’s remarkably varied discography.

The Chats have the same natural knack for this stuff as The Ramones, able to make their point in 90 seconds while also having ripping punk tunes galore that sound no different to those on their High Risk Behaviour debut. It is quite brilliant.

It’s the pacier moments that make up the bulk of the highlights, but there are other areas of interest. Unwanted seems determined to be lots of different things to different people, ticking boxes left, right and centre in a way that seems ambitious rather than cynical, while mostly delivering on its multitude of promises.

Ultimately, any record which ends with a cover of cult anarcho-surrealists Rudimentary Peni can’t fail to convince in its sincere respect for its predecessors and inspirations.

A record which never really sags – an impressive feat for a mixtape of 17 songs, none of which are interludes – and instead engages the listener throughout, with a constant stream of fresh ideas thrown into the pot. When it comes to rock and hip-hop colliding, this is the sound of the future.

There are still elements of The Fall in the taut rhythms and the brief but potent guitar flashes are occasionally reminiscent of Jon Spencer or J. Mascis. As a whole piece, though, My Other People sees TV Priest continue to map out their own increasingly intriguing identity.

It’s interesting to hear Candy embracing their experimental side and, for anyone in any doubt, their industrial tinged noise is every bit as horrible as their hardcore – a wonderful spectrum that ranges from explosive anger to sinister brooding.

In truth not every track on BLEED HERE NOW quite justifies its inclusion. A trimmed down version would have been the best …Trail Of Dead album in 20 years, but this sprawling incarnation remains a comforting reminder of the warmth and weirdness of these perennial outsiders.

One of the defining features of Beatopia is that it’s much less immediate than Fake It Flowers – there aren’t so many catchy, love-at-first-listen bops, but the ones that are there, namely the fizzy pop-rock jam 10:36 and the scuzzy euphoria of Talk, are a lot of fun. The more left field moments here are handled with just as much assurance and burst with creativity.

Household Name is, altogether, an ineffably charming release bringing a youthful modernity to old school sounds.

The stunning Sweet Dreams Of Otherness is a burning behemoth of raging psychedelia – think Wade’s Dooms Children project on steroids and turned up to 11 – while Sans Soleil is a gorgeous, almost proggy anthem about overcoming an episode of depressive self-loathing that’s as poignant as it is powerful.

You don’t have to take a crash course on two decades of complex lore to enjoy Act II, though. For all their intricate storytelling and consummate musical skills, Coheed remain surprisingly accessible.

Not all of World Below lives up to this early promise. You can find songs like Poor Old Me – wonky guitar, jaded sarcasm – filling out landfill indie releases from the ’00s. However, late highlight Midnight twists heads with grinding industrial rhythms.

Supernova basks in its own raw originality and kicks any naysayers to the curb with its unforgettable impact.

This appears to be the start of a promising new chapter.

Heavy Pendulum is truly a remarkable record, not only for its quality but also because it represents Cave In’s ability to persevere after enduring so much trauma. It’s the work of a wholly rejuvenated and imaginative group.

This introspective, incendiary, searingly intelligent set of songs finds them as emotionally invested as they’ve ever been.