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.

Some may find the often austere arrangements off-putting, but this is an album which proves that Tiny Ruins are a band that can creep into your heart without you even noticing.

Out In The Light is a blustery, at times thrillingly unstable record, and comfortably matches the standards Pierszalowski achieved with Port O'Brien.

When the stories are this well told, it doesn’t matter that Dropkick Murphys keep re-writing them.

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.

In many ways it offers lessons in collaborative best practice, with individual sonic identities preserved, yet with a willingness to divert from usual methods on both sides proves it’s much more than just a stop-gap in between their respective next albums.

Though it’s only a brief listen, Back In Black finds Cypress Hill refreshed and re-energised.

The 10 tracks that make up Arrows will wrap you up, hug you close and tell you stories before placing you back gently, where they left you.

It may never touch the heights of The Walkmen’s best moments like The Rat or In The New Year, but these sharp, charming love songs show off anther side to Hamilton Leithauser.

Long.Live.A$AP is unlikely to win over the doubters, but it will consolidate A$AP Rocky’s status as an exciting talent.

Enticing, if inconsistent, this seems to be an album that de Graaf had dreamed of making, building on the pretty, prosaic folk-pop of her self-titled EP in 2013.

Peaking Lights' music is slow to reveal itself and unfolds gracefully, at its own pace.

A bold, energetic collaborative record. ... If another project were on its way with a bit more polish and focus that would be ideal, as the two certainly have a madcap chemistry that deserves to be explored further.

Ultimately, Lenses is a masterly album and Soft Metals’ brand of inventive, ghostly electro is a welcome break from the flood of brainless EDM that’s cluttering up airwaves and dancefloors everywhere at the moment.

So, all things considered, it’s another solid entry in McClure’s catalogue.

For now, though, they’ve managed to rekindle their affairs and surprise a few doubters.

While Damned Devotion is not the Police Woman at her most arresting, it is nevertheless a solid showing from a performer who always has plenty to say.

Lost Sirens makes for a welcome parting shot; a sugared pill to take before slipping away into happy dreams where Bizarre Love Triangle plays from now until eternity.

Overall, though, the music is worth wading through everything else for.

It goes beyond technically supreme homages into the realms of risk-taking and unpredictability. The vibe is nevertheless still every bit as cool, relaxed and controlled as might be expected from Elling. Not everything pays off, but Elling is branching out in courageous style.

While Where The Heaven Are We isn’t a perfect debut album, it’s a solid effort, and there’s enough talent on display to hint at even better things to come.

SweetSexySavage, despite its gung-ho title, turns out to be a fine album, albeit a couple of songs too long.

Give Oh Ohio time--there's more than enough here to breath life back into a resurgent band.

Novelist Guy remains a very promising debut from a young artist who has already placed himself at the forefront of grime’s equally promising future.

An electronic album that manages to sound intimate, late-summer warmth turning to autumnal melancholy, and a cartoon band that suddenly seems a little fragile.

Nite Jewel has blossomed into a something not too far removed from a genuine pop star. Yet you feel One Second Of Love is a promising step forward rather than the finished article.

Alabama 3 are at their best when they let go, embrace the fact that they’ve successfully sustained their eclectic sound and bizarre personas for over 20 years, and lose themselves to their own warped version of the blues.

At its best, Psychedelic Pill is an invigorating, ramshackle, heavy beast. At its worst, it's enjoyably daft.

Forget The Night Ahead is the reassertion of The Twilight Sad's brutal art. But reassertion can so easily slide into repetition, as is occasionally the case here.

Tempest is a flawed but mostly fascinating album.

It probably won’t be to everyone’s tastes – at times, it all becomes a bit too doomy and inaccessible, such as on Theme From Muddy Time – and newcomers to his music may be best pointed towards Your Wilderness Revisited instead. Nevertheless, this is another fine example of Doyle’s talent – and, considering he only turned 30 earlier this year, indicates a lot more to come in the years ahead.

There are a couple of fillers on the album, but Girl At The End Of The World is a strong, distinctive addition to the band’s work.

The album, in general, is much more relaxed than anything Reed created (post-Nico, that is), and while the whole thing has a vaguely hazed-out feel, the effect created is more stoner chill than frenetic heroin-induced madness

Essentially this is an album about escapism, whether it's from a city (as in Tonight's The Kind Of Night) or the place in life that these characters find themselves.

There is nothing here that is dramatically different to what he offered on his debut solo album, but the end result is charming and beautifully comforting nonetheless.

Static isn’t a perfect album, but it contains enough promising signs of evolution to predict a long career for Cults.

As a whole, Weathervanes is a largely successful and ambitious trip into uncharted territory for the band, and despite its somewhat saccharine sheen, the album wears well with multiple listens and creates a spooky, dreamlike economy of its own.

While there’s nothing that tugs at the heartstrings as much as Metarie did all those years ago, Dear Life is a reminder that Brendan Benson remains a terrific songwriter. He’s still too much of a quirky proposition to make it big, but Dear Life is a great big burst of sunshine in an all too dark world.

This is another very good, solid album from the Swedish siblings with a fair bit of typical brilliance scattered throughout.

At 55 minutes, it’s arguably too long, and some of the less memorable tracks could probably be filed away without taking too much away from the album. Yet only dEUS could end an album with Le Blues Polaire, a six minute song sung entirely in French that switches from dirty, grimy guitar rock to hypnotic drone several times.

At almost 55 minutes, some of the 12 tracks could have done with a bit of trimming, while some songs work better than others. But overall World Peace Is None Of Your Business is a distinctive contribution to Morrissey’s oeuvre.

Cerebral listening.

Not only do the sparse arrangements allow Eastburn to enchant with her siren like singing, but also, they allow the listener to become ensnared in the song.

Fans who have been frustrated with recent output will be able to find a lot to like here.

From beginning to end Circular Sounds feels familiar. And with only one track (just) over four minutes, Stoltz holds true to pop convention in length as well as arrangements.

This album shows that simple can indeed be effective. Regan simultaneously covers a lot of topical ground whilst using a finite number of musical resources.

Absurdly entertaining, and quite disturbing, Ropechain will most certainly not be to the tastes of many. But it must be admired for its originality and brain-shakingly ridiculous beauty.

te. For the most part Strangers succeeds because of its strangeness, but when that strangeness slips, the album as a whole does too.

Coupled with mostly low-key guest appearances, The Pool isn’t an album that jumps out at you. It’s an easygoing record that has a sophisticated yet soulful centre, and that’s where its appeal lies.

Poster Girl, although far from perfect, is an encouraging sign from Larsson, indicating her adventurous spirit and perhaps paving the way for future triumphs.

18 Months neatly packs Calvin's hits from the last year and a half into a solid playlist.

Jose Gonzalez may not be doing anything any differently, but he's also not doing very much wrong.

The overall vibe of Dear... is a strangely baroque take on loss and self pity.

Despite the groovy intentions and the unmissable smell of too many cooks in the kitchen, their album often proves to be pretty damn tasty, indeed.

While unlikely to change anyone’s life, The Head And The Heart have produced a record that’s richly enjoyable and well performed throughout, establishing themselves as a worthy addition to their home town’s roll of honour.

It’s perfectly easy to listen to Porches on a superficial level and find beautiful hooks to hang on to, but the real joy of this album is to dip beneath the surface, and see what’s going on underneath.

For all its innovativity and dogged determinism, the album's latter moments just can't compete with the top heavy appeal of its opening tracks.

Although not earth shattering, it's all of a high standard with no real nadirs.

While a few of the songs could do with a harder edge, that’s not Salvat’s style. What he has delivered is a record that is heartfelt and tender, direct and emotionally challenging, while still sporting enough tricks and flourishes to fill the dancefloor with bangers to spare.

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

Whilst there are a host of influences and references at work, Astor’s delivery and way with a lyric mean that he’s bending those influences to his will.

While many of those who fell in love with The Virgins the first time around may be put off by the absence of addictive indie-disco hits, Strike Gently is a quite remarkable, and effortlessly crafted, reinvention.

Ultimately, Era is a difficult album to get a handle on. Much like Wire’s 1979 masterpiece, it really, properly throws you the first few times, but the haunting oddness of the tracks means they gradually burrow their way under your skin.

Expansive and unified in its character, Future Times is a considered album, actively concerned with the spontaneous expansion of boundaries, be they geographical or psychological.

This might be a ride through familiar territory but The Proclaimers specialise in steadfast song writing and this is sure to satisfy their legions of fans.

Thankfully though, less worthy moments are heavily outnumbered by their more interesting peers and, for a first full collection, Bedroom is a resounding success. bdrmm have chosen a well-worn path, but there’s a freshness here nevertheless.

A lean, 40-minute LP that’s big on melody and small on post-production .

The concept pays some dividends, with production that frequently finds a pleasant hybrid between gospel and contemporary production and subject matter that surprisingly doesn’t outstay its welcome. The big problem is Kanye’s lyrics, which have lost a lot of the charm they had in the early years without improving in technique, and at various points the tracks have a big hole where a genuinely powerful verse should be. Nonetheless, Jesus Is King is certainly an improvement on Ye, and a purposeful if novel release.

A sweet, cheery and summery collection of folk tunes that sometimes verges on a more commercial surfy sound akin to Jack Johnson while still remaining on the right side of lovely.

Overall, Feel Feelings represents the complexity of the human experience in that it’s not perfect, however the work put into this album is undeniable. It can be hoped that for her next album Soko continues to, indeed, feel her feelings through her music for us to enjoy.

Whilst there are a few darker moments (particularly towards the midsection) there’s are also a number of delicate and beautiful moments too.

Tales Of A Grass Widow won’t alter opinions; if anything it’ll cement them. But for those who enjoy CocoRosie, album number five is every bit as intriguing and fulfilling as they’d hope.

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's Robbie The Rogue's least immediate album and needs several listens to get to grips with, but Intensive Care feels like Robbie has allowed himself freedom of expression, even if he doesn't always know how best to use it.

Whilst it’s unlikely to have surpassed a compilation that would have boasted the likes of I Wanna Get Lost With You, Indian Summer, Graffiti On The Train and Mr And Mrs Smith to name but a few, Oochya! is undoubtedly one of Stereophonics’ better albums in recent times even if, at 15 tracks, it’s a little too long.

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.

It's certainly fresh but, lamentably, it fails to rival the progression seen on previous releases that grabbed the listener's attention.

It’s fair to say that sometimes, Power’s laudable ambition means that the album trips over itself. However, despite some flaws, it does make for a great showcase to remind everyone just what a brilliant songwriter Ben Garrett can be.

There are times on Coming Out Of The Fog when Arbouretum seem to be a little too self indulgent and one paced, but each of these songs has a hook that digs deep and refuses to let go.

Sex & Food might be reluctant to fully reveal itself, but in being the most uncompromising album in Unknown Mortal Orchestra’s discography it also feels like Nielson’s most honest musical statement to date.

It all means that Sometimes I Sit… is a likeable, enjoyable album rather than a great one. Barnett has written half a masterpiece: let’s hope that, next time round, she can complete the job.

2011’s Circuital was up there with their best work and now Jim James and company are back again with The Waterfall, which maintains their high standards.

Nothing As The Ideal never fails to entertain and covers much ground in doing so. It’s a case of which aspect do you like about the band at times, though: the metal side or the stoner rock side. You probably won’t be disappointed if you sit in either camp; equally, however, you may feel disappointed that you haven’t had enough of your preferred All Them Witches fix.

The album’s probably better than expected, so it’s somewhat of a disappointment that the band haven’t been encouraged to recreate their main strength, the brilliant electricity generated by pulsating live shows as their music builds into euphoric peaks; too often, the production strips away the potential majesty.

Once again, they have come up with a lovingly crafted tribute to the idiosyncrasies of England’s summer sport, and those who approach it as a bit of harmless fun will be humming these songs with a smile on their face at least until the final ball of the Ashes series is bowled.

While this may not be the best place to start investigating the man, it's still another reliably wonderful chapter in the life of one of the country's best songwriters.

Eels don’t do anything markedly different to what they’ve done many times before, but E’s songwriting remains in fine fettle and he still has plenty to say.

There’s nothing as immediate as Ixtapa or Tamacun here, but there’s plenty of well rounded paeans nonetheless, and you’re sure to find something to adore if you’re a fan of guitar music, Latin music or heavy metal.

Though the magic isn’t always present on This Is What We Do, there is still a creative drive that makes the case for Barnes’ continuing relevance into the 2020s.

Admittedly, sometimes the album’s ambition does threaten to trip itself up--there’s a few too many half-sketched ideas crammed in, as opposed to fully formed songs; a bit of ruthless editing might have whittled down the running time to a more manageable 50 minutes or so. However, there’s certainly more highlight than filler contained in Freetown Sound and it is, ultimately, an album that deserves to be heard.

The lyrics speak tellingly of life experience, but the tunes don’t quite have the pizzazz to match the singing voice. Yet their turn towards the dancefloor is expertly marshalled by Rodgers, whose production tweaks are always tasteful – and this return bodes well in the long run. If they can just add the winsome melodies, The Zutons will be right back up where they deserve to be.

Ultimately, Bastille’s second LP is a more than worthy follow-up, one that throws up a few interesting surprises along the way.

It's far from perfect, but Dear Reader's Idealistic Animals is undoubtedly a bold second album, with the almost cathartic outpouring from MacNeil giving it an unnerving and eerie beauty.

As excitingly promising a solo debut as any.

Astonishingly, rather than the sound of desperate barrel scraping (although surely the cupboard is now totally bare), these songs document a band that constantly sought to engage and push the boundaries of music.

While perhaps lacking the simple yet intricate beauty of his purely instrumental work, In The Furrows of Common Place is another strong release from Ghedi, and fans of Chris Wood, Alasdair Roberts, Seth Lakeman and other modern folk luminaries will find much to enjoy in this confident and atmospheric collection of songs.

True North is a decent album, but one with no real standout tracks.

When it works, The Skull Defekts are an unstoppable force, but every so often, they get a little aimless.