Where an artist as eclectic and unpredictable as this might go next is anybody’s guess, but on the basis of this quietly spectacular album, it’s likely that listeners will be more than happy to follow him into the unknown.

The main discernible difference immediately noticeable is the increased tempo and prominent, thundering rhythm section alongside racing guitars.

The music covers a diverse range of styles, with the solo offering more of a melodic folk-rock affair.

Fabricius is clearly talented, but Wish Bone probably won’t be the album to deliver the breakthrough she deserves.

It adds up to one of his most vital offerings since those heady days of old.

It is neither better nor any worse than The Logic Of Chance. But what is really telling is the lack of anything remotely resembling a standout track.

A functional album it may be but Closer To The Truth does nothing to puncture the illusions which so many love about Cher and that, ultimately, may be the best anyone can expect at this point.

In the grand tradition of rockers who have music to cure their own isolation and misery, Barnes and Of Montreal have entered a great one in the canon with Lousy With Sylvianbriar.

It can sound like a mish mosh of the obscure record collection of a New Yorker-reading, Ivy League graduate, and one who knows how to have fun just as well as he knows philosophical theory.

It’s by no means perfect and it does feel slightly one-paced, but the layers of Heritage are undoubtedly worth unravelling.

Ultimately, We Were Here is another strong return from Turin Brakes, one that doesn’t stray far from their acoustic niceties, but one that also seeks out a natural progression.

This is basically the sound of 2003 with the addition of up-to-date electronics. There’s nothing you won’t have heard before, which is a big part of the problem with Collapse.

While that development may take some by surprise, Melophobia finally sees Cage The Elephant realise their full potential.

A quiet, easy confidence in their abilities and a collection of productions straddling just about every dance music touch-point from the past 25 years.

Ultimately, Bitter Rivals is a mish-mosh of songs: some good, some of high quality though tempered by and succumbing to poppiness, and some that shouldn’t have made the final cut.

The sub-two minute ditties appear out of sequence and fail to offer much narrative glue to stick the album together. But at least they threatened to provide some structure to an album that sounds great but leaves you starved of proper sustenance.

While the band’s penchant for steadying, shimmering guitars and unexpected use of instruments certainly appears on VII, it’s not enough to overshadow this album’s lack of originality.

At the grand age of 72, he’s grown into his voice and can sing with conviction and honesty, but not at the expense of youthful venom.

Master is perhaps less dense than their previous offering, but still possesses the ability to invoke terror and occasionally, irritate. Despite these occasional forays, Master is a powerful album.

The list of guest stars includes Jessie J, Robbie Williams and will.i.am, and the album is as overproduced as those names suggest. Worse still, on The Fifth Dizzee Rascal succumbs to the worst stereotypes of rap music.

While the dynamics may be a little different, her wonderfully expressive, kaleidoscopic guitar playing and that voice, capable of alternating within the space of a few notes from a barely audible whisper to a wailing banshee, both remain as compelling as ever.

Glow And Behold has its ups and downs and isn’t quite the coherent, self assured package that its predecessor was; instead it’s the sound of a band reconfiguring, trying to work out which way to go and what to do next.

The occasional deployment of distortion maybe hints at a lingering anger or resentment, whilst the presence of detached, ghostly human voices shows Willner is a master controller of his music’s constituent elements.

This feels like an unnecessary and slightly cynical afterthought, much like a lot of pop music. It isn’t necessarily all bad in terms of quality. But it is utterly dispensable.

It’s not the worst album in the world, but it certainly doesn’t live up to the acres of hype that have led up to it. It’s just rather average.

Decidedly mixed results--but also, a sense of light at the end of the tunnel.

This is a real treat from a rapidly evolving artist and one of the year’s most purely pleasurable albums.

This Is… Icona Pop is a worthwhile listen because it doesn’t dumb down. It’s not trying to enlighten, either.