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

Most of Body Talk Pt 2 is more of the same, but Robyn does occasionally take some significant risks.

Behold, here arrives the first "star" from a productive lo-fi music scene. That's because she's the first out of the bunch of heavily-blogged artists to display her personality, to prove to the world that she's got something to say. And boy has she said it.

DFA are back on track with this chilled, intriguing record. As a compedium of two previous records, this is a sign of where Harte was.

Despite minor niggles, such as the slight lack of scope in sound, Shrines is a confident debut that justifies the hype.

It’s unsubtle and it’s inconsistent, but Ultra Mono has an awkward frankness to it that isn’t entirely without charm.

Moondust For My Diamond makes a great late night listen – and at the same time offers plenty of evidence that Hayden Thorpe is growing apace. He has without doubt made one of the albums of the year.

This is another instalment of quietly intriguing music, ornate and intricate, but also organic and alive. It’s good to inhabit her world once again.

The result is an eclectic mix of psychedelia, electronica, dance beats and space jazz as well as rock which moves along the scale from The Beatles towards erstwhile collaborators The Chemical Brothers. The tempo is upped, while Gallagher’s vocals are in a higher register than usual and the guitars are much further back in a musical mix that is highly textured.

It is refreshing to hear Sandoval’s stunning vocals once again coupled with Roback’s guitars. The world is a better place for it.

This isn't an album of standout moments though per se; rather it's a record to be enjoyed as a whole. The true worth of each track is found in listening to them in order start to finish.

Tobin's music is so full on, so conspicuously lacking in any sense of holding back, that the proper thing to do is just leave any preconceptions at the door and lose control.

There may not be anything new or massively revolutionary to attract new disciples to the Vega cause, but Tales From The Realm Of The Queen Of Pentacles is another reliably excellent Suzanne Vega album.

While it’s accessible, it’s never flat-out commercial pop thankfully--but it’s certainly the sound of a band recharged and ready to recapture what made them so special in the first place.

Heavy Love is a fine, if ultimately inessential, summation of what Garwood does best.

It’s difficult to see too many glimmers of light on We Are Millionaires, but once again the duo have delivered a collection that is stunning in its simplicity.

The album reaches something of a climax with On Each Of The Six Fives Of The Moon, which features thick, metallic tones encircling over bleak and unforgiving terrain. Its Deathprod-like heaviness is sustaining and compelling in equal measure and, like much of the album, there’s little option but to submit to its force and embrace the imposing mass face-on.

Reprise offers a pleasant, even graceful but ultimately insubstantial retrospective of an artist who can be fascinating when he’s not overly focused on his pleasant, insubstantial brand.

Time Skiffs is a vibrant album, suggesting Animal Collective have well and truly rekindled their collective fire – and because of that, the pleasure is all ours. Gather round and enjoy its heartening warmth.

The music can be deadpan and serious at times, but Magazine 1 gives the running impression that it was a huge amount of fun in the making.

Go is a phenomenal record with almost every bar bursting with beauty. It is soulful, fun, naive and sad in its own fantastical world; if only life really were this good.

It is a near masterpiece, elastic, eccentric and eclectic.

Brash, poetic, and romantically obtuse, even from the grave Alan Vega is as challenging as he is charming.

There are no secrets, just affecting music. Paper Airplanes is another breath of fresh air from a now legendary band.

From this irrepressible debut, we can deduce that Katy B is a genuinely exciting UK urban vocal talent, the like of which we haven't seen in some time.

The world of CEO remains an intriguing, if frustrating, place.

While the debut was clouded in hazy and understated dreamy melodies, Confess is far more direct and intense.

This is an album to be enjoyed whilst snuggled up in the arms of the love of your life.