Yes, it’s Elton John by numbers, but it’s his talent as a songwriter that has solidified his stature in popular music and that wide appeal will only be further cemented by Wonderful Crazy Night.

Although there’s nothing ostensibly new about this album, the overall feel and vibe running throughout does at least give a feeling of overall unity. These songs have been given a uniquely peaceful freedom.

It’s a slightly uneven collection with some weaker tracks, but nevertheless its creators remain artists whose ability to construct slinky, agile grooves with a dark underbelly is still well worth seeking out.

This New View is pleasant, but a little more of the old fire would be welcome.

Wells is an immense talent, and for those willing to put the time in, there’s so much to enjoy in these dreamlike baroque-pop numbers.

Essentially, Commontime is business as usual for Field Music. If anything the mood is distinctly upbeat this time.

It probably won’t break her out of the cult status in which she’s often resided, but for those who seek it out, it will prove an immensely rewarding listen.

Relaxed but restless. It’s a powerful combination for a successful début--and as Miller is still in her early twenties, greater life experience can only enhance her musical vision.

While the pudding is occasionally over-egged, in general this is a work of great individuality and poise that should increase MONEY’s currency as one of the best young British bands to emerge in recent years.

It could never be accused of lacking honesty, commitment or power--some achievement given the songs were not all for her--but at times you long for Sia just to take a step back, to bring a little bit of that Zero 7 calm back into the equation.

It may not have the instant listenability of We Were Here, and there are parts where it gets slightly bogged down but, in the end, it is another worthy addition to their catalogue.

It is no necessarily a bad record, but it is seriously lacking in memorable moments, which is a crying shame considering how good Oceans still sounds.

Williams doesn’t rely on heavy-handed sloganeering, and is more than capable of a light touch, administering impressionistic yet prescient lyrics that are indicative of his beginnings as a spoken word poet.

It’s by no means a bad album, but at this stage Chairlift are strictly second division.

For those expecting the worst ahead of Bloc Party’s return, Hymns is likely to validate all their fears. Change may have been unavoidable after losing two influential members, but to change beyond recognition is almost an insult to the original band’s legacy.

Whether this is Shearwater’s finest album is debatable; some fans may still miss the more rustic, hushed and unpolished vibe of 2006’s Palo Santo. Undoubtedly, though, it’s a record of confidence and passion, fronted by a man with plenty to say.

The Fat Whites’ second album is, then, something of a mixed bag, but the most offensive thing about it is not the lyrical content, it’s the fact that the band doesn’t seem to have the courage of its convictions and say what it means in an intelligible manner. Their edge has been knocked off in a cloud of reverb.

This is Suede right near their very best. They remain incurable, helpless romantics, barely able to control their wildest musical thoughts, and Brett Anderson sounds like he depends on them more than ever.

The Waiting Room is another immensely satisfying collection from a band always able--even after personnel upheavals--to explore multiple styles while remaining ineffably themselves.

It is instinctive but planned, primal but enlightened, and hazy but focused. The only sure thing about it is that it is Ulver’s finest work to date.

Emotional Mugger is a wild-eyed beast of a record; unafraid to stamp through the effects pedals with a delirious glee.

It has an astonishing level of clarity about it.

This is a quietly ambitious and exciting installment in the history of a band who may be happy (or possibly even destined) to remain under the radar but deserve something far, far greater.

It could so easily have been an ill-fitting coat worn loose on the shoulders of the original’s stark beauty. But these slabs of noise, where Cale picks at the wires like a scab, scarring and slashing old canvases to remake the old, add to rather than re-hash his legacy.

This won’t go down as one of his classic recordings, but nevertheless The Traveller is an enjoyable journey that shows its narrator still has plenty to say.

Although there’s a lot to enjoy here, with the band on something like the crisp, playful form of TNT, the best moments seem out of place and the rest a bit meandering; while previous releases have always felt thematically strong, even while jumping stylistically from Ennio Morricone soundtrack-isms and cool jazz to downtempo grooves and minimal drum and bass, it’s hard to pin down exactly where this is aimed.

A Coliseum Complex Museum, despite sporting yet another bonkers title, is a top effort that bolsters their burgeoning reputation, even if it doesn’t quite reach the highs of their very best.

With a natural ebb and flow, Curve Of The Earth is both a new departure for the Mystery Jets and their most consistent and rewarding album yet.

Despite the dark emotions on display, Not To Disappear is the sort of album that can sound oddly comforting, one to which you can gaze out on a bleak and snowy landscape, while musing over January’s travails, and take some sort of solace in. That’s the sort of thing Daughter do so well.

It is hard to ignore how limited, both musically and lyrically, the Darling Arithmetic tracks sound when played alongside their predecessors. However, despite its limitations, Villagers’ latest LP does succeed in producing some very worthy reinterpretations and weaving them seamlessly together, which is often easier said than done.

Confessions Of A Romance Novelist showcases The Anchoress as an artist of bold intent and kaleidoscopic ability. It is hard to believe there will be many more interesting, or better, debut albums in 2016.

Although occasionally lacking focus (unsurprising, since large chunks were apparently improvised) it is a quietly mesmerising piece of work that breathes new life into Yorkston’s career.

While Leave Me Alone has its flaws as an album, it’s the perfect summation of where Hinds find themselves at the moment. And when the sunny riffs of Castigadas En El Granero kick in, you’ll want to follow them to see where they’re going in the future.

It’s an album that sums up Bowie as an artist--restless, audacious, constantly looking forward to the next new idea. January may only be a week old, but that ‘Best Of 2016’ list already has a slot filled.

Until the release of this album, Shepherd’s output might have proved hard to follow for the casual listener, comprising as it did sundry white label releases, one-offs and remixes. Fortunately, Elaenia acts as a brilliant encapsulation of a huge talent.

As debuts go, there are flashes of brilliance, but Elsewhere is not consistently excellent.

It may not quite reach some of the highs (or lows) of its predecessor but it more than compensates in both its consistency and variety. It offers proof that stories of stagnation and decline in everyday life can still conversely inspire music of great value and beauty.

The skill involved in composing and producing A Paradise is not in question, but a little less cerebral meandering and bit more fun really would go a long way here.

Listeners with open minds are strongly recommended to give Pageant Material a try. It’s brimming with wit and wisdom, and it really should have featured on more end-of-year lists.

Like its companion album, it’s wildly inconsistent but when Prince hits form, it’s difficult to argue with the man’s genius.

Fortunately, there are a handful of songs here to be able to do that [listen and enjoy], if only fleetingly and not particularly in the original Hurricane #1 mould; for most of us though, we’re just happy to still have him around.

Disc 2 is a largely inessential collection of insipid dance remixes and the Massive Attack tracks. Disc 1 is a succinct summation of Thorn’s doleful, soulful voice and writing career that gives balm and bathos to those on the sidelines that, through their bruisings, let the brasher, flasher and more empty briefly succeed, but through doing so endure and become stronger in themselves.

For all its challenges and provocations, Garden Of Delete may actually be more inclusive and open than it first appears. It might be that its moments of hope and beauty (Lift) linger longer in the mind than its very varied assaults.

ts concise nature, glossy finish and sense of clarity (something that even extends to the band photography) suggest that, as strange as it might seem, this is not a return to Sunn O)))’s metal roots, but is instead, for all intents and purposes, their pop album.

Kubrick is an ambitious project, but one that works just perfectly as a showcase for the wonderful songwriting and compositional skills of Machin and Glover. It proves, as if it were ever in doubt, that their strength lies not in the skills of their collaborators, but in their music and ideas.

In its best moments, Right On! is a dark, bewitching début that is bound to appeal to fans of Warpaint. Too often, though, its formulas are repeated and sketches left uncoloured to cumulatively less engaging effect.

The best parts of A Head Full Of Dreams are where the band cut loose and play around with expectations.... However, those who hate Coldplay with the fiery passion of a thousand burning suns will also find plenty to grease their wheels on A Head Full Of Dreams. There’s the lyrics for a start, which are almost universally terrible.

Me is a brilliantly confident album that fulfills--and builds upon--Rodriguez’s early promise. Recommended.

To describe it as the best Strokes-related work since 2003’s Room On Fire might be damning it with faint praise: better to say simply that this is one of the year’s most easily-overlooked gems.

Consistently melodic, it’s packed full of hooks and almost suspiciously on-trend.

This is music that has gloriously outgrown its unfamiliar origins and deserves to be embraced wholeheartedly.

Those for whom Enya remains a musical taboo are unlikely to be tempted by Dark Sky Island. More open-minded listeners might, however, find themselves surprisingly captivated.

25 is very much Adele playing safe.

It’s an album that may not crack the Top 10, but to those who succumb to it’s beguiling atmosphere, this is a record that will live with you for some time to come.

There’s no denying this is a heavy record, not at all easy going mood music you’d lightly slap on whilst performing menial tasks. But the mix of gentle moments of reflection amongst muscular foreboding sounds save it from being overly doom-laden. And the fact remains, it is a genuinely exciting listen.

The patchiness of the album is perhaps a consequence of Kylie trying to placate the disparate portions of her remaining fanbase. Still, seven keepers out of 13 is a decent hit rate. A merry little album.

There’s just enough experimentation and intrigue within the 10 songs to make Chorusgirl’s debut one to explore.

It’s a lot of fun, for band and listener both (not always the easiest of tricks)--a ‘concept-less concept album’ shot through with just enough self-aware humour,

An immersive listening experience is guaranteed.

Some people may see Songs In The Dark as a curio, simply recorded for in order to keep the legacy of the McGarrigle canon alive and well. Yet it’s the black humour and obvious love for the material that lifts this into another sphere.

The demanding nature of One--a persisting, unrelenting jolt of energy--gets tiring after a while, but there’s no doubt that the highs are incredibly high.

Asher is manifestly talented, so perhaps Aquaria is best described as a tentative testing of the water before his next big production job. But there’s not a lot of fun to be had by the listener here.

While the anodyne Around U and the UK garage stylings of Devotion could easily be jettisoned, lessening the stylistically jumbled, overlong effect. Ultimately, though, Goulding’s experiment with carefully crafted but impactful Big Pop was a success.

The result is the sound of a band at the top of their game. The potential has always been there, but Mirrors harnesses it.

Boucher’s pleasingly scattergun approach means that it doesn’t hold together as a fully coherent album. Yet after a couple of plays, the weird and wonderful world of Grimes soon starts to seep into you, and soon you won’t be able to imagine an ‘albums of the year’ article without this being on it--no matter what the sleeve looks like.

The record doesn’t just match the standard of their first, it surpasses it.

Vulnicura Strings probably isn’t an album you’d want to listen to much on a regular basis, despite its undeniable excellence. It does, however, make for a beautiful and fascinating companion album to one of the year’s very best records.

As delicate as these songs are in terms of construction (simple guitar parts, barely-there percussion and Hayman’s vocals--it’s the first album he’s done as a truly solo artist) they really pack a punch.

Those who are justifiably fond of Tigerlily will find much to enjoy here. But it’s a shame Merchant didn’t take the opportunity to shake up the original album a bit more.

Unmistakeably the best of Ryder-Jones’ albums to date, West Kirby County Primary is cathartic, sometimes desolate, but always raggedly enjoyable.

It may not quite have the immediate irresistibility and wide-eyed innocence of its predecessor but it successfully builds on and expands the sounds previously established.

He has made five albums, at least three of which are very fine indeed. But concern was growing that he might have peaked creatively. Bleeds refutes that notion emphatically, within a minute of the start.

Not giving a little more is a problem that hangs over the end of the album, and for some of the more rabid fans of The National it’s something that they’ll consider a problem for the entirety of Return To The Moon. There are some bright and poignant moments here though, but, like the majority of The National’s work, the depths of the album may take a while to become apparent.

This is firmly heading towards the subtler, less heavy summery sounds of The Proper Ornaments and Ultimate Painting and, while there’s little wrong with that, it may be a little disappointing to those that were so impressed by their occasionally mouth-watering first.

Whilst not engrossing for the entirety of its running, Many Moons is still a pleasurable listening experience. It takes a few listens to get to the lyrical gems, which can often be remarkably revelatory.

As down-to-earth and likeable as its creator, this is an enjoyable collection that mostly avoids the pitfalls of solo albums by members of successful bands that are still very much a going concern.

It’s A Holiday Soul Party is, for the most part, smooth and subtle enough to be enjoyed at any time of the year.

The quality of Toledo’s songs is gobsmacking; the lyrics are enthralling, the melodies are to die for, the musicianship is raw yet brilliant.

Solo projects can be very hit and miss affairs, but Here In The Deep is an evocative and at times quite wonderful set, with some gloriously summery melodies: far more than just an album written to fill some time.

As debuts go, this is fairly solid stuff, but it’s hard not to feel that Real Life should be so much more than the sum of its parts.

It is the sharpness, leanness, and absorption in detail found on Howl that combine to make it a success. It’s not impossible that it could ultimately out-shine a lot of the bigger names it has been pushed up against this year.

What is arguably Joanna Newsom’s most consistently outstanding record to date.

Brash, wearyingly loud and very funky, As If certainly isn’t lacking in emphasis, but will likely disappoint if you’re searching for a little more.

The reliance on the atmospherics created by synths, pounding basslines and heavy guitar passages added considerable weight to these songs; when you take all that away, it leaves a hole.

Those seeking the mellower vibes of his earlier work may be slightly less enamoured with VEGA INTL. Night School, it’s undeniably a record that’s confident, intelligent and above all, fun.

From a songwriter of this calibre, a maven of the lyrical barb, it might seem odd that an almost wholly instrumental album should stand among his most compelling, entertaining solo work, but British Nuclear Bunkers is exactly that.

This is a confident, vital and highly uplifting record.

Fading Frontier is probably Deerhunter’s fourth best album. It’s still an excellent record, but it’s just ever so slightly underwhelming.

A record unlike anything else you will hear this year.

Whilst nothing on The Light Of You is quite as sumptuous or ornate as the best moments on Deserter’s Songs, it does demonstrate that Mercury Rev are a band still able to engage the senses.

Beach Music will almost certainly push Alex G into the wider consciousness, and rightly so.

Hurts can do--and have done--better than this.

There is nothing especially wrong with it, but it hits the middle ground all too easily, sounding like Home minus the guns-out anthems and the hands reaching for the sky.

RUFF will win no prizes for compositional elegance, but it’s never boring.

From the haunting atmospherics to the ‘80s soaked electronica, there is much to love about the album. Those looking for the band that first appeared in 2002, however, will be disappointed--the traces are almost completely gone, so it’s time to accept and embrace the new Editors.

If John Grant never feels the need to write his memoirs, it’ll be because they’ve been played out for us over the course of these three brutally frank, flawed but ultimately human albums. Never less than enjoyable, the next chapter is bound to be worth the wait.

They’ll need to be a little more adventurous next time around, but for now, they’re in fine fettle.

Warm, melodic and acutely observed, Cradle To The Grave is a convincing return from two of our very finest songwriters.