An album that is nothing short of a triumph, one that perfectly balances their craving to be “unsettling” again with soaring, arena-ready anthems.

Morrison does not have the same vocal power or raw intensity as a performer as he did when younger, but his voice has become deeper and richer in tone in later years. Roll with the Punches may show him playing it safe but there’s every sign that the prolific 72-year-old has plenty of more rounds left in him.

While the rest of the album doesn’t quite live up to the expectation set by its opening salvo, the longest journeys start with a single step. And as the first step in the next chapter of Wolves In The Throne Room’s story, Thrice Woven moves decidedly in the right direction.

Sometimes it sounds bleak, sometimes it sounds glorious, but it’s in embracing the full gamut of life experience, as Zola Jesus does here that nothing becomes everything. The shackles might still be on, but this is the sound of an artist reveling in freedom.

In truth, the only weakness to Choir Of The Mind is its length – at 13 tracks and clocking in at just under an hour, it’s a long time to spend with an album that’s so resolutely downbeat. Yet there’s a lot to admire with Haines’ second solo effort (not least the quality of her production) and it makes a decent calm counterpoint to the swirling storm of Metric.

While Wolfe’s incredible vocals are the main draw, her long term collaborator Ben Chisholm deserves significant recognition too. Not only does his fuzzed-to-fuck bass make these songs feel genuinely threatening, his manipulation of sound and creation of washes and collages provides unsettling backgrounds for Wolfe to weave her magic over. Without him, the oppressive atmospherics of the album wouldn’t be nearly as effective.

Music for The Age of Miracles is an excellent record and a level above Minotaur, without scaling the heights of their first four albums. More 2009’s Bonfires On The Heath than Suburban Light, perhaps.

As ever with Amos’ more recent albums, it’s a bit overlong and some songs, especially in the album’s mid-section, float by without ever making much of an impression. ... Yet when Tori is on form, she still sounds as vital and exciting as she did 25 years ago.

After remaining stagnant for so long, Concrete and Gold is a mini breakthrough for the Foo Fighters. Progress, at last.

While it’s possibly a bit too similar to First Mind to have the same sort of impact that album did, this is still a powerful demonstration of what a fine musician Mulvey is.

While not every song is as successful--Mrs Lincoln… doesn’t make quite enough of a very old joke (compared to, say, …Beethoven’s How Do I Get to Carnegie Hall?), and A Little Bit Like Fun is a little bit slight--these are trifles; Hippopotamus is a big, joyous beast of an album.

Elytral may not be an easy record, but it is strangely affirmative and rewarding.

This is an album that confirms Alvvays’ massive potential and makes the perfect soundtrack for those nights indoors as the summer begins to fade.

Beast Epic is a worthy addition to the Iron And Wine catalogue and an example of an album that improves the more and deeper you listen to it.

Sleep Well Beast is as sad a record as The National have ever made, and yet it also feels like their most hopeful.

Expect The Best is the most akin to Mazzy Star so far.

This album shows that there’s plenty of life in this band yet, and they’re changing and developing whilst also addressing the past. But most importantly, they’re still creating interesting, vital albums.

TFCF might well be an Angus Andrew solo album under the Liars banner, but what he’s achieved here fits within the his band’s remit for consistently morphing and confounding expectation. More importantly, it’s heartening to see an album as intriguing as this emerge from such a traumatic time.

Music For People In Trouble will perhaps be a surprise for those who came to Sundfør via her last album, but they won’t be disappointed. This is an album full of hidden depths, stark emotion, and most importantly, absolutely beautiful songs.

Now there is an extra dimension, an extra frisson, for like their contemporaries this year (Erasure, Depeche Mode) OMD are bringing some raw feeling to the studio.

Cutting a path somewhere between the sonic worlds of New Order and !!! (Chk Chk Chk), Omnion runs determinedly in Butler’s own unique direction, mixing decadence and daring and making for something rather special.

Their music is always beautifully rendered, and there is plenty of interest for the listener, but the hang, their most distinctive weapon, feels underused, its tones not bought into the foreground as much as might be expected.

This record, more than any from their back catalogue, is a slow burn. It doesn’t have the spiky malevolence of North American Scum or the punchy pull of Daft Punk Is Playing At My House, but it does have depth to spare. Sonically, it’s the richest record they have produced.

It may have been a long time in the making, but Spooky Action is the album Mansun fans have been waiting for.

On Dark Days + Canapés, the sense of darkness becomes a bit wearisome. Yet, come the end of the year, this will no doubt be held up as one of the albums that held a mirror to its times. It also confirms Ejimiwe as one of this country’s most vital voices.

It’s not as immediate an album as Lost In The Dream, and a couple of quality control lapses prevent it from being a truly great record. Yet it’s still a dauntingly accomplished behemoth from a group who grow in stature with every release they put out.

Exile In The Outer Ring explores complex subjects without reducing them to empty soundbites and neat conclusions.

Because 24 7 Rock Star Shit is just a great record. The requisite acoustic number (Sticks And Twigs) is heartfelt and pretty, there’s a sleek poppiness which can’t help but shine.

Everything Everything return with Fever Dream, a brave, boundary pushing album which shows many of their peers how things should be done.

Dead Cross is basically a straight up adventure into Hardcore. The result is an album that clocks in at under 30 minutes and doesn’t just sound dead cross, at times it’s positively furious.

SCUM is rarely subtle and its relentless pace can become a little bit much at times. Yet there’s enough promise here to suggest that with more development and quality control, Ratboy could grow into an artist of significant stature.

When it’s good, it’s very, very good--but it’s also flawed. Such is the band’s conviction to capturing their reservations about our on-demand culture, it’s hard not to feel drained by the end.

With some more judicious editing, a good album could have been an outstanding one, but even so, this is still superior, well-crafted noir-pop that maintains Del Rey’s impressive career to date.

As well as this angrier, more focused lyrical approach, some of the arrangements on Raskit are pleasingly minimal.

There may not be a big crossover hit on the album, but that doesn’t stop Moonshine Freeze sounding like the best record of Kate Stables’ career so far.

It’s difficult to see too many glimmers of light on We Are Millionaires, but once again the duo have delivered a collection that is stunning in its simplicity.

An album that is wide-eyed in its sincerity, unafraid of sentimentality, for better or worse. The political message is familiar, and will never grow old. The means of expression, however, can become a little too routine.

At times it relies too heavily on retro stylings, with a resulting sometimes rather one-dimensional sheen, meaning that the more serious messages the band are expressing can get lost in the mix. But as far as ’70s tailored rousing rock in 2017 goes, Sheer Mag’s work is best in class.

It feels great to have them back with us, and their forthcoming live shows promise to be awesome, vital affairs. But it remains to be seen how many moments from Hug Of Thunder will make their way onto people’s Ultimate Broken Social Scene playlists in coming years. The thing with songs for now is that they’re not always songs for tomorrow.

Hughes isn’t about to change that with Eirenic Life, but this work offers a warming, soothing relaxation state that is a welcome antidote to the troubles of everyday life currently engulfing us, and may appeal to fans of Brian Eno in particular.

You might cringe at some of the words, and you certainly wouldn’t play them to your young kids or their elderly nanna, but everyone in-between might just turn enough of a blind eye and enjoy Pop Voodoo for what it fundamentally is: an enjoyable trip of danceable funk.

The Haim sisters are back with Something To Tell You, a big, brash, bold pop record which has rather more depth than some might expect.

With only five tracks and little in the way of audible lyrics or melody, understandably As Light Return tends to blend into one rather murky whole. That said, after repeated listens, individual song strengths do gradually emerge.

Admittedly, it isn’t a particularly easy listen, but love isn’t always easy, even if it is always worthwhile.

Each track melds into its predecessor and its successor, creating a mesmeric experience that truly captivates the attention and inspires awe at the sheer musicality of Thurston Moore.

There’s not enough quality across the whole of Evolve to convincingly make the case that Imagine Dragons actually have, or to attract an audience of new listeners. Evolve is a good idea, but in practise it turns out that it doesn’t really work.

The Underside Of Power is righteous, vicious and vital. If the world is a stage, then at the moment it’s hard to think of a better house band than Algiers.

It’s that smoothing of Ditto’s edges that prevents Fake Sugar from moving from a good, perfectly serviceable pop album to something truly great.

Crack-Up is, in its way, just as exhausting a listening experience as Pure Comedy.

There’s an edge to these performances that couldn’t have come from a more rehearsed band. Slightly fudged lyrics, instruments not turned on, and a palpable sense excitement give every single one of these songs a sense of electricity and vibrancy.

Cigarettes After Sex have released an excellent album. After you’ve heard one song you might think the next one is similar, or even the same on repeat, but once you delve down a little deeper, you will categorically not be disappointed.

Binary is an album which is shot through with the sort of confidence that only an artist nearly 30 years into her career can bring.

It shows Alison Moyet as a vocalist of immense sensitivity, feeling and lasting power. She is right at the top of her game musically and lyrically, delivering pop music that is more relevant now than at any point in her illustrious career.

Melodrama delivers everything pop music should, but yet it manages to find more. As an album it is unlikely to be bettered in 2017.

It adds up to a disjointed, uneasy compilation of songs, with the band seemingly refusing to conform to expectation.

It would be apt as the soundtrack of a credit scene in The Inbetweeners, or to accompany an advert taking place on a summery day full of good times and beer. That is the image evoked by the album, which blends effectively into a complete piece instead of a compilation of singles.

It’s almost inevitable that an urban record made by an American rock classicist--especially one who moved to New York as a teenager like Morby did--will evoke Lou Reed. ... Shooting for a rawer, more stripped-back sound has left certain songs on City Music feeling under-powered and –developed, however.

On second LP, Résistance, Songhoy Blues feel not only like the ultimate festival draw but also the party band par excellence.

How Did We Get So Dark? has plenty of appeal, possibly just edging the debut, and is the sound of a band enjoying their niche, but how long that can last has to be the concern here.

The music of London Grammar continues to bewitch, soothe and inspire in equal measure, and when Truth Is A Beautiful Thing is at its best, it fully lives up to the title.

It lacks that sprinkling of stardust to make it special, but after the valedictory bitter taste of Tarantula, it’s good to have Ride back and evidently enjoying themselves again.

There is nothing of great surprise here, which while reassuring to fans does also lead to the criticism that McVie and Buckingham are just that bit too predictable through the course of an album. There is however no lack of emotional input to songs like Feel About You.

There are numerous disparate elements at play, reflecting the different backgrounds of the contributors, and while sometimes it all comes together beautifully, at others it feels either strangely flat or rather a chaotic, over-egged mess, with the clash of influences jarring rather than blooming.

Essentially, there’s enough good stuff here to suggest Pixx--cool, intelligent, subversive--remains a talent worth watching. And you can’t learn that anywhere.

It’s not a world beater of an album by any means, but Auerbach’s ability to continue to branch out into things other than what he’s expected to produce can only be admired.

As a tribute to Molly Drake and an effective realisation of her music’s full potential for the listener, it’s a resounding success.

The Heliocentrics, then, are in a good place. They continue to build on their obvious ability as musical chameleons, evading capture as they flit from one musical style and approach to another, with hip hop and psychedelia as their common ground.

You’ll gather from this that Shake The Shudder is very much business as usual from !!!, though there is extra spice to their modern disco this time around, an all-inclusive party that gives the middle finger to those who dare to stand in its way. It is a wholly affirmative illustration of music’s unifying power.

Reservations regarding vocals and mannered performances aside, this is an impressive second outing that cements Ulrika Spacek’s position as one of Britain’s most intriguing, painterly guitar bands.

Lyrically the album is an intriguing cocktail of emotions, veering from insecurity and vulnerability to assertiveness and outright feminine power.

This record feels produced, whereas her first release had the feeling of a bedroom recording. She may have lost the kooky melodrama and charm that she enveloped earlier on, but I’m Not Your Man feels strangely right, if quite startling in its shift in direction.

Home Counties is Saint Etienne at their very best, blending breezy observations and harmonies with a deep seated emotion, centred around the need for a place to call home. In these uncertain times, a blast of hot sunshine and a listen to this record certainly make the world a better place to be.

Transforming states and changing perspectives are once again the order of the day. Modern Kosmology marks another triumphant evolution.

Full credit should be given for bringing an extra dimension to the Erasure legacy, but World Be Gone makes for far from easy listening.

Shifting moods and voices effortlessly, Harding is an often technically astonishing performer, and Party is a work of quiet power. An inviting, captivating darkness.

Alex G’s skill is in tackling difficult subjects and squeezing them into the most wonderful kernels of pop, and once again, he’s succeeded here.

Lush and atmospheric, with shades of the paisley funk of Shuggie Otis, the laid-back, freewheeling early ‘70s Marvin Gaye and Todd Rundgren’s cosmic mishmash (with centrepiece soul medley)--A Wizard, A True Star, Green Twins demands your attention, in a subtle but compelling way.

The Weather is packed with ambitious moments, and many of them go over really well.

It is, in fact, an intoxicating must-have album worth a place in any collection.

An album ram-packed full of top-notch melodic synth-pop--a triumph from start to finish.

No Shape is awkward, full of weird sounds that shouldn’t fit together but do.

Vocally he’s still capable of making the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. The rougher edges and more aggressive attack that coloured his early performances might not be so much in evidence, but what he lacks in rawness, he makes up for with sheer soul.

Occasionally, as on Carolina or Only Angel, it dips into bland pastiche, but generally this is a fine solo effort from, lest we forget, one of the most famous twentysomethings on the planet.

Thin Black Duke should be regarded as a genuinely innovative and exciting piece of art.

This is a beautiful album, a lovely complement to the best of the Penguin Cafe Orchestra and a strong statement on the part of the new generation, reaching greater emotional depths and expanding the structures impressively. The penguin isn’t out of its comfort zone after all.

While there’s nothing on Electric Lines to match the heart-stopping brilliance of Gabriel or even be as sheer fun as much of The 2 Bears record was, it will satisfyingly sate anyone who feels they’ve been waiting too long for a new Hot Chip album.

It feels like a satisfyingly natural progression, but brave all the same. Because his first album was a big deal.

Crying Out Loud offers plenty of confirmation that Kasabian are in rude musical health.

The result is her most satisfying and unified album to date.

This is an album comfortably on a par with the work of most of the younger artists they’ve influenced; compelling proof that the original shoegazers have stood the test of time remarkably well.

Gargoyle is yet another fantastic album from Mark Lanegan, and one that points to a new path.

Americana is consistently melodic and witty, even if its mellowness sometimes verges on the sedate so that you fancy a burst of garage-guitar power chords from “baby brother” Dave to fire things up a bit. It’s an impressive comeback.

With so many talented people involved, Humanz was always going to have its moments, and it is undoubtedly an engaging, intriguing and bold record. Yet when compared to Demon Days or Plastic Beach, one cannot help but feel just a little underwhelmed by the songs here.

What Gnod has done with Just Say No is to keep their statements brief and ally them to a handful of bone-crushing and thrilling sonic vistas. Sometimes a catchy slogan and a fucking huge riff is all you need.

It’s encouraging to find Kid Koala beginning to push the envelope and explore new territory, and these transmissions from the satellite heart are a fine starting point for future adventures.

Musically there is little to remember, lyrically some of this is challenging to forget. For a 19-year wait, this is a mild payoff indeed.

Spirit is, ironically enough, sometimes lacking in that, with a few too many downbeat, mid-tempo brooding numbers for comfort. For a soundtrack to a revolution, we’re going to need to party more.

Yet another album of utter genius in a stylistic vein that nobody in their right minds would have predicted from Ulver.