From the opening crunch of Two For His Heels to the closing majestic sway of ‘Tis Night, it adds up to his best album since Standing At The Sky’s Edge. Those who have just discovered Hawley through the musical will be delighted, as will his legion of long-standing fans – this familiar mix of Sheffield steel and sentimentality still runs deep.

There probably won’t be too much on Gravity Stairs to attract any new fans to Crowded House, but after 40 years that’s probably the last thing they’re bothered about. Their heyday in the ’90s may be behind them, but this is a welcome reminder that the Finn family are still going strong.

The Dream Of Delphi is another starkly beautiful missive from one of our most consistent artists.

There’s certainly nothing as immediately compelling as his collaboration with Fiona Apple, Left Handed Kisses. However, if you’re in the mood for a Sunday morning coffee and contemplation session, this is a perfect soundtrack.

Although a tad overlong and samey after 15 tracks, occasionally drifting into wine bar background music territory, there are some immediate standouts on Room Under The Stairs.

Detractors might make the same comments they make about all heritage rock acts – the music is made obsolete by previous, better albums that they might not have liked in the first place – but they really can't say that Blue Electric Light isn't a considered, cohesive work.

Hit Me Hard And Soft might be the very best pop album released so far in 2024, and it’s certainly one of the most enjoyable.

Occasionally sections of Ten Fold feel too effortless, such as the off-beat delivery of carl thomas sliding down the wall, but generally the affect works as a stream-of-consciousness-style insight into Bey’s attitude and thoughts.

Some people may find the pace of Bow To Love a bit too pedestrian, but most of the time, Campbell’s music feels like a soothing balm for a troubled world.

It may not be as, well, iconic as Portishead’s Dummy, but there are moments on Lives Outgrown that certainly stand shoulder to shoulder with Beth Gibbons’ glory days.

The album is DJ-friendly, resulting in several lengthy tracks, and while this is no bad thing in itself some of these are also rather uninspired.

Wonderfully morose lyrics (and funny!), a pitch-perfect retro sound design that alternates between deadly serious and utterly comical, and a cohesive vision that represents the very best of their craft. Lovely stuff.

If you’re coming to Kings Of Leon expecting something experimental or anything really out of the ordinary, you’re a bit of a numpty (see also: Interpol, The Killers, &c.). But come to Can We Please Have Fun with an open mind and an open heart and you’ll find it’s more than worth a shot.

That Golden Time is undeniably a slow-burner of an album, and like much of Villagers’ previous output, it’s more than likely that a few repeat plays will pay dividends.

Deeper in the tracklist more variety emerges, featuring emotions and sounds that most listeners will have never heard from Dua.

It’s very far from cosy easy listening, and it’s certainly a record you have to be in the right mood to fully appreciate. Yet as an entry point into the bewitching, disquieting world of Keeley Forsyth, The Hollow is pretty special.

There’s blissful harmonies, jangly guitars and choruses that bury inside your head – and yes, while it’s not the most original sound, it’s a gloriously well put together record.

This is a fantastic album. It may be the best of an already-excellent run of albums produced by – and it really does bear repeating – the greatest rock band in the world.

When it’s on form, Reasonable Woman is proof that Sia can still hit those high marks like she’s always been able to. The trouble is that there’s just not enough of those high points on this record.

It’s an album that reveals its charms slowly.

Sega’s production is consistently impressive, whether it’s the seasick bass on Elk Skin’s glitchy hook, True’s baroque chord sequence or the pumping trancey arrangement of Dirt. He is a better producer than a songwriter however, and some of the less musically eventful .tracks test the patience.

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.

Hyperdrama is a well thought through album, bringing a real shot of adrenalin in its outer sections. The suspicion may be that Justice have applied just a bit too much studio gloss to the end product, but that should see it work brilliantly in the live environment. One thing is for certain – Justice are more than happy to take the French dance music mantle and run with it. Two decades in, their beats are as strong as ever.

One of the best Pet Shop Boys albums in years.

Even when it doesn’t quite hit the mark, they still sound like no other band out there. They remain a curiously compelling act to listen to, who play by thier own rules – chaos remains their lifeblood, for good and for bad.

Whether the stylistic digressions work for you or not is immaterial really, because they’re impressive no matter what your expectations were.

As good as her earlier folk-rock songs were, this new direction is one that suits Rose extremely well.

The songs themselves range from the good (the surprisingly energetic I Can Do It With A Broken Heart, throwback ballad But Daddy I Love Him, the extra textures of the Florence + The Machine duet, Florida!!!) to the somewhat samey but still enjoyable (So Long, London; the title track; Fresh Out the Slammer), to the unnecessary retreads (Who’s Afraid of Little Old Me?, The Alchemy), to the truly rotten (Down Bad – which can’t manage to disguise its hollowness with truly beautiful textures, and I Can Fix Him).