It is a far more ambitious project than 2016’s Care, and the ambition pays off as Krell returns to form with an experimental, nuanced project.

If the album has flaws, it has great and unique strengths. Difficult, maybe, but captivating.

It all adds up to another reliably excellent state of the nation from Heaton – there may be no real surprises on The Mighty Several, but it confirms his national treasure status, whether he likes it or not.

Kozelek is a songwriter operating with audacity and confidence, composing wry and forthright confessionals that investigate areas of everyday darkness and despair too rarely explored in popular song.

Rather then shy away behind tricksy, overtly difficult melodies or instrumentation, Little Boots has created a pop record in the truest sense of the word; not only does it fizz by in no time at all, it also doesn't alienate or discriminate.

Overall, this is much more than a chill-out album; there’s a level of depth here which showcases Hyde’s musical maturity and sensibility.

Naming a band The Very Best may seem like posturing, but on the evidence of Warm Heart Of Africa they're on to something.

Working on many levels: entertaining, thought-provoking, musically satisfying and yes, still pretty funny too in parts; YACHT might not be genuinely looking to save your souls, but they certainly have more to offer than most other sects that you might care to join.

The beautifully warm and naturalistic production brings these inherently intimate songs closer still.

It is without doubt Zola Jesus’ most heartfelt utterance to date, the emotion coming from her very bones--a case where you really can see the wood for the trees.

The jittery electronics of closing track New Year’s UnResolution close the album, confirming L’Rain’s special ability to expertly splice sounds and styles to create something distinctive and original.

It’s a record that sees Mikal Cronin finding his way as a songwriter in his own right.

It doesn’t always maintain the consistency that makes a truly great album, but it makes you feel good and puts a smile on your face. Just as the cover promised.

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 an album that comes from an older, more mature band than the Jimmy Eat World that yearningly whined on Bleed American, one that has refined their melodic craft.

At times, you won't hear a more beautiful album this year, and there are enough heart-stoppingly dramatic moments on here to more than justify all the excited pre-release anticipation.

An often spectacular document of pain, no doubt, but it remains a record to admire rather than invest in, turning you away with its bleakness when it promises comfort

Whelm is a confident and well-defined musical statement that shows Douglas Dare has taken little time to hit the standard we’ve come to expect from Erased Tapes.

Joyful and experimental in equal measure, Fluorescence is an album that challenges you without you even realising.

There's an alertness and sense of movement within these carefully crafted soundscapes.

And The Anonymous Nobody is a more than worthy edition to their legacy, proving how relevant this treasure of a band is.

Williams doesn’t rely on heavy-handed sloganeering, and is more than capable of a light touch, administering impressionistic yet prescient lyrics that are indicative of his beginnings as a spoken word poet.

Convenanza is essentially a good time record, a celebration that looks back, but doesn’t forget to put its best foot forward too.

The Brian Jonestown Massacre is exactly what you expect, and selfishly want, The Brian Jonestown Massacre to sound like.

Heligoland doesn't touch the perfection of Blue Lines, but few albums do. It is though a return to form from one of the real pioneering bands of our age.

Everything Harmony is the sound of two men taking nearly 50 year old references and reframing them for today. For a refreshing twist on a vintage sound, nobody does it more impressively than The Lemon Twigs.

These songs are made for clubs, student unions and theatres, not arenas. And it's all the better for it.

In Furneaux, a travelogue split into two durational phases, is explicitly built around archival sound recordings accrued from across the globe over a 10-year period, and emerges as a ferocious and often anarchic statement of intent from the noise composer.