As comebacks go, Dodge And Burn is a solid effort and possibly The Dead Weather’s most cohesive record to date. It’s just a shame that the band leave it so late in the day to delve into their box of tricks.

Emotion succeeds on its own terms, arguably remaining truer to the spirit of the era, not to mention Jepsen’s stated aim of taking the time to craft an album rather than rushing to cash in on a YouTube sensation.

What Disclosure have done really well here is kept with the style that has rightly made them huge, honing their songwriting skills further in conjunction with a group of very well chosen collaborators. Caracal, then, passes the test.

A few mis-steps aside, this is yet another strong showing from a band in the midst of a creative whirlwind, one that fortunately shows little signs of blowing itself out.

So it isn’t better than Swift’s album, as that would be a pretty hard album to improve on. What Adams has done though is to look at it through another prism, and created a pure break-up album.

Higher Truth may not quite reach the heights of his best work, but it ensures that Scream was no more than a blip in his solid back catalogue.

It’s the album that New Order fans have been dreaming of for years and it will no doubt be cherished. Even better, you don’t leave this album thinking it’s a good way to go out. For the first time in decades, you leave thinking: what a way to start.

While 2013’s effort saw some incredible peaks, Vile’s new album has managed to forge a more consistent collection of songs built around simplicity and a shrugged shoulder approach to lyrics.

This may well be Holter’s most accessible album to date, but it’s this very approachability that renders it all the more intriguing, drawing you in with open arms. Stately and serene, it’s a wilderness that begs to be inhabited for some time, a country you’ll be reluctant to leave.

It’s a very special second album that will resonate deeply both with early adopters and the wider audience that Ought will surely capture.

Contrepoint delights in its escape, and while it might be unhinged and unstructured at times, it is never anything less than intriguing.

This is more of a curate’s egg of an album than anything else.

It has a satisfyingly gritty texture, more stripped back than a Stones album, and reveals a surprising amount of vulnerable feeling underneath the gunslinger swagger.

There are some bumps along the way, though, with Art Deco and Religion sounding almost too lackadaisical for their own good.... That said, when she gets the formula right, the results speak for themselves.

Repentless does possess a few standout moments but, whilst Slayer’s return is welcome, there’s little here to suggest they’re ready to push on and dazzle their fans with something mindblowing.

Love + War is solid rather than spectacular, but contains enough promising signs to suggest his next album could be something special.

It’s a record that you have to take in as one complete whole. You’ll enjoy individual slices, but won’t be truly fulfilled unless you take a deep dive straight in and luxuriate in all its sonic weirdness and insane brilliance.

For anyone wanting something new, exciting, raw, intoxicating... then this isn’t for you. If, however, you know what you like, don’t like taking risks, want an easy life when it comes to spending money on music and are already a fan then you’re going to be satisfied with an album that probably ranks dead centre amongst their full catalogue.

Although he may never touch the glory days of his heyday again, there are enough glimpses of his genius gathered here to satisfy.

Her combination of interior logic and the immediacy of improvisation is also captivating. This is deceptive, singular and highly creative music.

Like Something Is, Coles Corner or Run For Me may have done in the past, Hollow Meadows is yet another impossibly accomplished record from one of our national treasures.

There is, thankfully, life in the old beast yet.

Faith In The Future may lack the life-affirming joie de vivre that The Hold Steady can invoke at their best, but if we’re to hear no more from them, there’s enough here to reaffirm faith in Finn’s future at least.

The album is no attempted revisiting of past glories but shows The View exploring a more varied sound with a mellower vibe.

With a couple of judicious tweaks to the song choices, this retrospective could have been truly great rather than simply very, very good.

Needless to say, Yours, Dreamily can occasionally represent a more challenging listen than other Auerbach-contributed music. Occasionally though, these guys soar.

It won’t be for everyone and there will be those who continue to look at Pete and Carl’s relationship with utter bemusement, but their songwriting prowess has ensured that the decade-long wait between albums has been more than worth it.

Whilst it hardly breaks new ground, either generally or for Barlow as an artist, Brace The Wave offers further evidence of Barlow’s core talents.

It is arguable that Ones And Sixes is their most fully integrated album to date--a richly satisfying and coherent work drawing together many of the different strands of their career so far.

There does seem something a bit rushed and unfinished about No No No though (which is ironic, given its long gestation period).

An album that showcases the development of an artist who seems to get better and better as the years roll by.

It’s an altogether bolder and more varied effort than This Is PiL--making this probably the best set to bear the band’s name since 1985’s Album.

It’s difficult to find much at all wrong with Hooton Tennis Club’s first long player. In fact, it’s ace.

It’s funny, thoughtful and catchy as hell.

There is clearly potential there and The Making Of is a solid first record, but it is just one that is unlikely to live long in the memory.

Minor nitpicking aside, this is a Beach House record that sounds, above all else, like a Beach House record, and we should be glad that this house was left standing and not swept away with the dreampop tide.

Rateliff has managed to succeed in breathing life into the classic soul sound by opening himself up and remembering that it is possible to dance your blues away.

Certainly, though, Deradoorian has demonstrated here that she is a confident, mature and distinctive artist.

I Cry When I Laugh never really manages to become more than just a collection of singles.

Even when the pace becomes more middling and unified towards the end of the album, there’s still a sense of a band taking risks and exploring sound.

Poison Season is another excellent Destroyer album, packed with songs that are graceful, beautiful and, yes, hummable.

Even if their musical influences are still heavily apparent, at least Little Victories shows the band writing all their own songs with growing assurance.

The only trouble is that the good tracks are matched by the nondescript filler.

With only the intriguingly named Snake Oil providing somewhat of an average, doomy, Kasabian type entry in an otherwise exemplary set of songs, Foals have produced yet another outstanding must-have album.

Le Bon and Presley are certainly a potent cocktail and this is one of the most uncommonly satisfying releases of the year so far, whose charms reveal themselves best after a few plays.

Spector readily admit they haven’t created a classic with Moth Boys, and are only aiming to create a ‘good’ album. And that’s exactly what they’ve achieved; it’s a step up from Enjoy It While It Lasts but it hints at so much more to come.

Despite the heavy topics, Gwenno brings a lightness of touch to everything on the album--her vocals are both light and breezy, and sometimes sound full of wonder, as if she can’t wait to explore this weird dysoptian future that she’s singing about.

Pretty, but ultimately uneven record.

The album is far from a lost cause. Sometimes, Two Lucky Magpies, Over And Out and the Bibio-esque titular instrumental are all lovely. But The Boombox Ballads annoys almost as much as it entertains.

It’s all rather wonderful nonsense--playful, engaging and not always entirely successful.

It’s a rich, rewarding record, which should see Laura Burhenn and The Mynabirds progress to the next level of established American songwriters.

Strangely mesmerising and addictive, this album will have you in its hold if given the chance.

With new release Stuff Like That There, Yo La Tengo are celebrating the silver jubilee of 1990’s Fakebook by once again demonstrating their flair for interpreting the works of others, as well as reinventing their own back catalogue.

While not offensive, it’s watery childlike-ness is like a kid’s paddling pool--no deep end and replete with a drop or two of unwanted warm yellow liquid.

It’s a pastel water coloured effort that’s like The Byrds with less shimmering jangle, The Beatles with less melodious catchiness, The Velvet Underground with less fuzz and Lou Reed drawl: but it works.

Despite the unsettling nature of Abyss as a whole, it’s a work that is strangely comforting once its charms are fully submitted to.

Born In The Echoes does not reveal anything startlingly new about The Chemical Brothers, but it is more than them simply ticking over, and clearly they have an eye on the future.

Marks To Prove It remains oddly unsatisfying.

On Blood she largely succeeds in harnessing her instrument to reveal the thoughts within. Big isn’t always better, but it tends towards triumph here.

There may be no words, but their music speaks volumes--and is consistently rewarding and charming.

It’s unlikely there was any desperate clamour for a new Ratatat album during the duo’s prolonged absence from the scene. Nevertheless, Magnifique is a nice reminder of the band’s command of their tiny, unfashionable corner of the music world.

There’s not much in the way of lax to be found here, Liberez are for the time being, geared towards building tension continuously without ever letting go.

If you are approaching Souleyman’s music from the Modeselektor direction then this is a great place to start. If you’ve followed his career for years you may feel the electronic dressing smooths off a few of the appealingly rougher edges of his and Sa’id’s sound--but if anything they show just how far ahead he remains stylistically.

While the music he creates on Universes is not quite from another planet, there’s definitely a spirit of exploration that makes it a joyous listen throughout.

This is a bruising, effective set, whatever the year may be, and one that really could only have come from one place.

It’s a promising debut from a musician spreading his wings and continuing to create his own little subculture, one informed by the past but brightening up the future.

Yet, despite these slight missteps [Fear Machine and Delusion Pandemic], VII is a fine addition to what is already a solid musical canon.

Something cleansing, refreshing and captivating, much like a dip in the sea. Once again, they’ve managed it here.

For those that are willing to kiss goodbye to the guitars and join Parker on his latest detour, you’re likely to get swept away by the dreaminess of Currents. It’s just a shame that the undeniable majesty of opener Let It Happen sees the album peak at a high it can never hope to reach for the remainder of its existence.

How Does It Feel, then, is a second album that reveals a band with plenty left in the tank.

Working Girl isn’t an album that will stretch boundaries or break new ground--the best tracks are ones that can’t easily be compared to other artists, such as Taste It and Help Too.

A hugely enjoyable, relaxing warm bath of a record that easily surpasses the recent work of both its two main protagonists.

At its best this is a confident début that will doubtless please lovers of hooky, carefully crafted guitar pop.

Best Friends work best when they deal in heads down, pulsating rock.

Wildheart is a beautiful album from one of the most exciting and talented artists in music right now.

Communion’s minimal song titles are indicative of a no-nonsense approach to song writing--but like most good pop songs they unpeel different layers of production with repeated listening.

In such a hugely enjoyable and compelling set, the weaker moments are few and far between.

Sprawling, strange, baffling and beguiling, this psychedelic treasure is unlikely to appeal to the unadventurous, but it’s hard to imagine there will be another album released anywhere this year that’s quite like it.

It makes for a good entry point for anyone who hasn’t heard any Nils Frahm before, and is also an extra treat for any long-term fans desperate for some new material.

Tweedy keeps up an unobtrusive presence throughout, letting Thompson play to his strengths, and it all results in another reliably consistent album.

As debuts go, it’s not on the same level as their mates Wolf Alice, but it is a compelling listen and a worthy addition to any burgeoning music library.

The results may on occasion be fraught with discomfort, and feel like a caffeine overdose, but in that respect Get To Heaven is an accurate reflection of life today, with its overwhelming tags, mentions, likes, unread messages, stimulants and stress relievers.

Don’t Weigh Down The Light certainly rewards repeated listening.

Yuck, however, sadly comes off after several listens as a little flat, the low points seeming all the more so for resting, as they do, in the shadows of the occasional peaks.

It’s as good a debut as you could hope to hear, a fresh injection of pure brilliance and beauty to a genre that is creaking under the weight of mediocrity and a lack of adventurous inventiveness.

[A] rich (at times too rich) ambitious record that hints at gimlet-eyed determination rather than wispy pushover.

PINS give the impression of enjoying themselves while not taking this whole rock ‘n’ roll thing entirely seriously. Just seriously enough to make something really fine.

There might be a song here entitled Failing At Fun Since 1981, but this album is stupidly good fun and, on top of it all, an unmitigated success.

It’s often difficult to know whether these songs are rushed and off-the-cuff, or whether they are in fact meticulously planned.

The desire is there for more of that visionary spirit--though the suspicion lingers that with everything just simply too available, Moroder no longer has the focus and inspiration that fired his finest work.

Red Kite is bound to be a hushed, understated, and at times rather lovely soundtrack for the (hopefully) balmy summer days ahead.

Whenever Carpenter sings, the music seems to adopt different qualities--more reflective and melancholy perhaps – but not in an introverted way. Her tone is also brighter and more outward reaching. It is this further meeting of worlds--unforced and compelling--that makes Motorcade Amnesiacs such a successful work.

A thoughtful debut on which art is sorrow, sorrow is art and Eastern influences are incorporated deftly. Most of the time.

Collaborations may not work for everyone (hi Metallica, rest in peace Lou Reed), but this is one that certainly does.

Apocalypse, Girl is the thrilling sound of an artist expressing herself without the slightest hint of self-censorship. It’s one of the year’s most individual and original albums.

It’s unlikely that this album will achieve legendary status but there are more than enough signs here to suggest something massive might be around the corner.

Listening to this album is rather like a lucid experience that you never want to wake up from--and it is Sankey and Warmsley’s most impressive record to date.

In summary, Drones is utterly bonkers and silly. And yet, it’s for the most part enjoyable.