As musically un-diverse as it may be, how cynical and jaded you would have to be to take against it. Tennis’ music is not intended to push at vanguards, but to make you happy.

The evolution and maturation of The Shins might continue at its steady pace with this record, but it’s all the better for the sense of nostalgia that pervades it, seeping from both its music and its lyrics.

while Silent Movie felt like a minor departure, this record still manages to sound deeply connected to its predecessors.

Crystal Fairy is a solid and impressive album from start to finish.

Temples’ piercing synths certainly perplex and distract but probably not in the way they intended. Any emotional or meaningful messages that may be in these songs are completely lost. Some lovely moments do manage to fight their way through.

Whether All Them Witches’ fans will approve in droves is unlikely, but instead of burying their heads in the sand maybe they should embrace the bands continuing evolution because at times it’s simply spellbinding.

Even at this early stage of the year, it’s fair to say that Power Trip might just have written one of this year’s most exciting and important albums.

Gang Signs & Prayer does a brilliant job of introducing the world to the full scope of his talent, dismissing any notion of him being a one-trick pony.

It just so happens that it is also an album that you pop on repeat and happily dance around like a wide eyed loon to for as long as needed. Self-realisation, invocations and exploration of the psyche are not necessary, but then as the album progresses the need to move (even if it’s just an appreciative nod of the head) is impossible to ignore.

Williamson has never been mournful in quite the same way that he is here, nor so disappointed in what he sees around him, whether it’s politicians, musicians or just ordinary people. This comes through not only in the lyrics but in their delivery.

For now, it’s a worthy instalment in the Moon Duo canon and a fine record on its own terms.

World Eater thrives on the tension between anxiety and peace, nihilism and love. That’s tough stuff to reconcile, but Power attempts it in muscular yet heartfelt fashion. This is an album that will shake you senseless, eat you up and spit you out. And it’s worth every minute.

While long-term fans will lap up the album, there’s still not really that killer commercial breakthrough which will see them following the likes of Foals into bigger arenas. However, as another reassuringly consistent entry in the Dutch Uncles canon, this will do nicely.

Thundercat has, by skirting around the edges of darkness, created a moody, magnificent, endlessly replayable record that also makes sense in late February.

Few bands are able to translate the full spectrum of emotions into song as well as the Welsh outfit and now they have established their independence, hopefully Sick Scenes will represent the beginning of an exciting new chapter in their career.

Dirty Projectors may be a breakup record, and one with its fair share of petty sniping (Keep Your Name’s pointed “What I want from art is truth, what you want is fame” is fairly hard to swallow without the suggestions elsewhere that Longstreth is playing characters) but, cathartic and redemptive, it’s one worth getting to know.

There is nothing on this record that is going to convert the previously disinterested. But although Ounsworth is still yet to return to the high watermark of Clap Your Hands Say Yeah’s first record, he has produced his most affecting work since then.

Their last studio record saw them in upbeat, energetic form, and whilst that playfulness is still present at times on Elwan, there is a conscious grounding too this time around.

Grails have been many things over the last 15 years, but with Chalice Hymnal, they seem to have found an identity that fits them perfectly.

Impermanence might have started out as a personal project, and it is an economical record consisting of six minimalist tracks, but self and city both run through it, giving a great sense of scale and scope.

Essentially this is an album packed with genuine nuggets of pop gold.

The album doesn’t take The Orwells to another musical level but, produced by Jim Abbiss (who worked with them previously), it makes for fun listening.

Prisoner is an album that must have been tough for Adams to write and record, but ends up sounding like one of the great break-up albums of recent times.

A collection of songs that successfully articulates Khouri’s musical identity.

Like the film it accompanies though, the prevailing sense is that it will be remembered principally as a top-notch tribute to its timeless progenitor; first class entertainment but without those inimitable zeitgeist qualities that made the original Trainspotting so uniquely compelling.

It’s an island of emotion on an album that overall sounds curiously unaffected by the tumultuous events of the last few years.

Like any prospective chartbuster, it frontloads its biggest bangers and lets anything more interesting linger in the later stages of the record, when the more passive listeners have tuned out. But those forays are occasional at best, and as an artistic statement this debut album is somewhat limited.

It has the feel of a transitional record; having proved to himself that it’s possible to pair up heartfelt songs with sometimes incongruous music, perhaps Lekman will hone this concept further in his future work.