Young Guns may have pushed themselves to the edge to create Bones, but the end result confirms the hard work was more than worth it.

Silver Eye is undoubtedly a masterfully crafted, emotionally rich and enjoyable record.

First Love is a promising, and at times deeply impressive, debut album.

Finishing with the title track, The Small Hours finally becomes as strange and otherworldly as perhaps the entire album should have been. The whole work is not a disaster by any means, but it’s when Berry’s focus seems to wane and things seem more spontaneous that his music becomes more alive.

They’re constantly trying to better themselves, and provide their listeners with new ways of looking at old feelings. As Long As You Are is an endlessly rewarding listen, and it’s certainly worth the wait.

The general tone is low-stakes, suggesting that Bada$$ felt obliged to link the record to 1999 regardless of the content, and it lacks the impact he might want from his first release in five years. That being said, good taste in production makes it very listenable and his sound has evolved in an interesting way, meaning that ironically he’s not stuck in the past.

Peaches' overt and upfront sexuality was once refreshing, but it now feels a little relentless. Quite possibly, the novelty has worn off.

Grace/Wastelands is Doherty scrubbed up, older and wiser and showing signs of regret for the past. It is a great album but then, so have they all been.

Gracious Tide, Take Me Home is a frequently stunning and achingly earnest debut effort whose sugary gossamer moments find themselves perfectly underlined with a bitterly sad aesthetic, but it would definitely benefit from the rougher edges that the band bring to their live show.

Creep On Creepin' On is a richly textured, intriguing piece of work that bears up well to repeated listens.

Marks To Prove It remains oddly unsatisfying.

There's just enough pop influence to catch the audience's ear along the way - the refrains on Chocolate Makes You Happy, Dear God, I Hate Myself, and This Too Shall Pass Away (For Freddy) are as infectious as any mainstream pop song.

Think Belle and Sebastian or a touch of Aberfeldy and take that east over the North Sea to Sweden, adding exquisite touches of orchestration and a touch more wistfulness as you go, and you have a rough template for the sound of Loney Dear.

For the most part however, this is a focused and enjoyable stomp.

Let's Wrestle have certainly crafted the sophomore album we all expected from them. There's little, beyond even that Albini attachment, that strives beyond the aspirations of a general set of rickety punk tunes--but at the same time, everything here is working wonderfully as intended.

It's all very Jeffrey-Lewis-esque in fact--another entertaining album from a man determined to cling to his cult status as long as possible.

The occasional introductions and interludes niftily splice together some sampled voices that add to the sense of abstract threat and unease, even if their impact feels a little hubristic at times. Yet beneath the tempestuous tensions in this music there are also occasional hints of reflection and consideration.

Dienel and co have surpassed any of their previous efforts, including the incredible debut Phylactery Factory, and the most recent beauty Kairos.

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.

There’s a new sense of optimism shining through the songs, especially on tracks like Hey I Won’t Break Your Heart and Tell Me, but it’s always tempered by a wistfulness that only experience can bring.

Some may be turned off by the sheer melancholy on European Heartbreak, and yearn for the drive and verve of songs like It Changes. Yet, for anyone who enjoys soaking in sorrow, this makes for perfect listening. For anyone from other states of the European Union dreading the uncertainties of life post-March 2019, this album could at least be a security blanket.

This sort of music is not intended for close listening, relying as it does on repetition and vibe. It does, however, deliver the sound that Com Truise is known for in abundance, and delivers it with a nuance that’s a cut above the other YouTube wannabes.

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.

Konkylie is a vibrant, often intense, mix of house and pop, infused, wonderfully, with both a spiritual glow and a dark clubland soul.

Closing in on his sixth decade as a recording artist, it is heartening to see one of our national treasures still pushing the boundaries. Long may he continue.

A rich and rewarding album from an artist who - thankfully - keeps on evolving in subtle and exciting ways.

Such an impressive cast might initially give rise to the belief that this might be an album that delights in twisting the conventional, but in truth everyone plays it fairly safe which is likely to disappoint those hoping for something mind blowing.

Whilst the record is without doubt clamorous, murky and often times boisterous, it’s in no way petulant or immovable.