It’s probably their most ambitious effort since Brain Thrust Mastery, delivering a sprawling and colourful collection of pop songs which are sure to leave a smile on your face.

Lanois and Snares are an unorthodox pairing, and the former’s fans may have mixed reactions to the latter’s noisy beats, but they complement each other well, and what could have been just a niche curiosity is instead a real treat.

This is as close to the spirit of punk as you’re likely to hear this year (or any year).

Building on the innovations of previous album Immunity, it invests more emotionally and retains the primal physical stimulus behind Hopkins’ best music. He remains a wholly individual voice in a congested field, a single phrase played from his piano speaking volumes. And Singularity is his best album yet.

It’s by no means flawless, with tracks such as Going Nowhere and There She Is too earnest for their own good, while his political comments are not hugely controversial – which is hardly surprising considering he was burned for his views on socialism back in 2012. Despite this, however, the record is refreshingly honest and delivers a timeless message with passion and plenty of anthemic hooks.

It is harsh, unflinching and, at times, pretty hard to listen to. But it’s an album that had to be made, in order that, as the title suggests, demons can be exorcised. It’s this quality which makes Exorcism such a compelling, and ultimately uplifting, experience.

At best, it sounds like an honest re-fashioning of comfortable old sounds. At worst, it sounds like a forgotten Christine McVie solo album.

Although there mightn’t be a Feed The Tree or Super Connected to be found this time round, Dove is a coherent collection that retains Belly’s essence while acknowledging the passing of nigh-on a quarter of a century.

The relative brevity and sparseness of the album, allied to the fact that it largely extends ideas laid down earlier in Harris’s career, won’t see Grid Of Points talked of in the same elevated way as some of her other work. But it serves as a timely reminder of her ability to create beautifully slow and contemplative music.

It’s Prince’s ghost that reigns supreme over the record, and while she nails both absorbing his spirit and infusing her own, there are times when you wish she would push the envelope a little harder, as she has on previous records.

The album is very cleanly produced, though at times it has an unfortunate tendency to become ignorable rather than interesting, Guidance and La Force De Melodie with LouLou Ghelichkhani being the chief offenders. However, the beat switch-up in the middle of Music To Make You Stagger--which turns it from a chilled dubby number to something approaching drum and bass--is very enjoyable, as are the chilly textures of Water Under The Bridge with frequent collaborator Natalia Clavier.

Some may find it all a bit too intense, while long-term fans may be put off by the departure of their earlier, more pastoral sound. However, their ambition cannot be faulted, and when it comes time to look back on the band’s career, Vide Noir could be seen as a pivotal moment.

Pinkus Abortion Technician is another solid album from Melvins, but is nowhere near their best. It’s not strange enough to be labelled a curio, it’s not massively experimental and there are very few surprises even with the two-prong bass deployment.

Novelist Guy remains a very promising debut from a young artist who has already placed himself at the forefront of grime’s equally promising future.

Fifth album The Louder I Call, The Faster It Runs doesn’t have the dramatic sense of change of its predecessor, but it is a fascinating album that may even ultimately prove to have more to offer. It’s one of those albums that grows with each listen.

Producing it must’ve been a huge job, the result is more than worth it. Higgledy Piggledy is brilliantly weird, packed full of ideas and sounds. It is a record you could spend a lifetime dissecting, yet still never get bored of.

Beautiful Thing works so well because it reminds us of that fact without losing its own emotional resonance.

If there is a flaw, it is that some jams are more eventful than others, as seen on the busy but ultimately inconsequential Daylight and Tear To My Eye featuring Eric D Clark and Beirut‘s Zach Condon, but this is something of an occupational hazard and the creative spirit is clearly heard throughout.

In The Lookout, Veirs has done what she does best. Instantly recognisable and comforting, she opens her personal world up as safe haven in these strange and noisy times, whilst still keeping you at arm’s length, listening for secrets.

Josh T Pearson’s latest experiments have made for his most uneven record yet, but among the less characterful songs, there’s still some of that old miserable magic to relish within the directness of it all. The Straight Hits! may not be his finest, but maybe the purge was a necessary one.

Tinashe draws on her R&B influences to greater effect with the sensual, Dilemma-sampling Ooh La La, and No Contest is another highlight, but overall Joyride does not deliver on its potential.

While there are a couple of misfires (Broken Algorithms is as messy as its title would suggest), this is generally a fine return to form from one of the country’s most treasured bands.

Eels don’t do anything markedly different to what they’ve done many times before, but E’s songwriting remains in fine fettle and he still has plenty to say.

Sex & Food might be reluctant to fully reveal itself, but in being the most uncompromising album in Unknown Mortal Orchestra’s discography it also feels like Nielson’s most honest musical statement to date.

Overall the lingering feeling is that I Don’t Run is a pleasant enough listen, and one that would happily soundtrack many a summer barbecue, but it falls short of the promise of their debut.

There’s enough variety and sheer pop power here to merit the hype, and more.

It’s the sound of a band who have slowly taken the time to consider how their evolution should develop, and this deliberation has borne fruit. Wildness may well have grown, but for Gengahr, something rather more long-lasting may have also taken root.

This record feels like half reboot and half memoir. She goes out of her way to acknowledge the fact she’s not a teenager anymore, but with a gentle defiance, a little nostalgia and a subtle change in direction that makes Golden both touching but also really good fun.