The result of using these familiar names is that Simian Mobile Disco lose something of the edge that gave "Attack Decay Sustain Release" such a heavy clout as a sharp piece of electro.

Musically it turns out to be blissful business as usual for Ernest Greene on his fourth album under the Washed Out moniker. The bittersweet sentiments remain but they are beautifully expressed and wrapped up in classy production, with a notable tension that hangs on every song.

Once again this is a thought provoking and stimulating listen from Squarepusher, continually developing his style and surprising in his lightness of touch and inclusion of Latin and funk influences.

This is just another good First Aid Kit album, one that suggests their peak hasn’t yet been reached.

While it's far from perfect, Casiokids have done well to polish their sound, even if they've not yet quite decided what they want to be when they grow up

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.

Womb contains a world that is by nature red in tooth and claw, and Purity Ring have found a way to marvel at every single aspect of the experience.

Much more petulant and moodier than previous albums, I Am Very Far swirls around in an illusory motion in which all manner of sounds and textures spin and whirl around the ubiquitous figure of Will Sheff; unwavering and untouchable, residing within the heart of the album's hidden emotions.

The four pieces here make an album that carries a powerful impact, as well as recognising the obvious talents of both composers in writing for the string orchestra. The down side of this is that because of the performing forces the textures stay relatively similar the whole way through, and listening to all four pieces at once is not the best way to experience the album as a whole.

Consistent, yes, but also vaguely disappointing, the band may be at the peak of their powers but it's almost a shame to see all the mystery drained away.

Dark Night Of The Soul certainly has its moments, but in spite of the sequencing it sounds like a collection of songs rather than a singular body of work.

Midnight Concessions is another reliably compelling missive from a rare talent.

It’s a concept that really shouldn’t work, but somehow does. Cave’s songs, usually so full of menace, mystique and melancholy, are given new light under Smith’s light, airy voice, and the fact that she was unfamiliar with the source material means that no tracks are treated with any over-reverence.

I defy you not to enjoy this album.

Sour Soul doesn’t quite push any boundaries, but ultimately it doesn’t really matter, because even if there was potential for it to be so much more, it still just about ticks the right boxes.

A debut album of soaring highs and some affecting melancholic soundscapes tempered slightly by just a few forgettable lulls.

It isn’t always the most substantial record, flexing and braggadocio abound, but it’s an enjoyable collection of tracks from the power couple.

Their approach avoids downright imitation of their source material, and they somehow capture a broad swathe of popular music in their own style.

Taken for what it is, Primus & The Chocolate Factory is a fantastically ridiculous release that should please fans of either [Primus or Willy Wonka].

Often interesting and occasionally moving, and at a compact 40 minutes, Maze Of Woods certainly doesn’t outstay its welcome and steers well clear of self-indulgence.

Flowers Of Evil is awash with religious imagery and allusions, snatches of mythology, and nature. The band is looking at the state of humanity and how progress doesn’t necessarily get us very far at all.

At various times uplifting, rocking, refreshing, and sweet, Oceania makes a return to the live arena a suddenly desirable prospect.

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

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.

The album sees Crossan as a distinctive producer once again, after the events of the past few years threatened to leave him faceless.

Seasons Of My Soul... rarely moves above midtempo or out of 6/8 time, and in its warm duvet of production it makes for a soupy listen, even more so on the second or third spin. But that won't diminish the album's efficacy as music for dinner parties or - let's face it - tender baby-making.

The less is more production suits her, and for a first time we get a real and lasting glimpse of Stefani herself.

It's gentle enough to be background music, lively enough to be worth listening to for the sake of it, and certainly an impressive achievement for a 21-year-old's debut.