The tension that gave those early albums their fizzing energy may no longer be there, but in its place is a band operating at a far higher level. Give A Glimpse Of What Yer Not is almost certainly the best album the reformed Dinosaur Jr have made so far.

Overall though, Stith’s second album retains the frustrations of his debut. The songs feel fragmented, with lots of memorable moments--a gorgeous chord change here, an inspired juxtaposition of sonic ingredients there--but very rarely are they memorable as complete compositions.

Ultimately, it is a decent return from a band who continue to show promise.

Admittedly, sometimes the album’s ambition does threaten to trip itself up--there’s a few too many half-sketched ideas crammed in, as opposed to fully formed songs; a bit of ruthless editing might have whittled down the running time to a more manageable 50 minutes or so. However, there’s certainly more highlight than filler contained in Freetown Sound and it is, ultimately, an album that deserves to be heard.

A varied and largely successful meeting of minds, this is peer-review done right, and the prospect of it influencing future solo outings from Case, lang and Veirs is golden.

For everyone who felt that eight year break was an eternity, Take Her Up To Monto will be manna from heaven. It’s yet another gloriously odd missive from Ms Murphy.

As an album that is both outward an inward looking the balance of the two is well measured.

The sound might be ’80s, but this is undeniably now, and Shura a new star in 2016’s increasingly bible-black night.

The instrumental Summer Jam also seems a bit throwaway, and being the closing track also ensures that the album ends on a bit of a damp squib rather than a flourish. Overall though, there is more than enough on Summer 08 to reconfirm Metronomy’s position as one of this country’s wittiest, most original and purely enjoyable pop acts.

A very accomplished second album, and you can almost see the band outgrowing their DIY roots in the most subtle of ways.

Some may write it off as one-paced (and they’d have a point), but there are moments of heartache and beauty here that will be hard to touch in 2016.

Though it’s hardly a full-blown reinvention, The Getaway shows that even after more than 30 years in the business Red Hot Chili Peppers still have something new to offer.

Love You To Death is an album full of intelligent, sensitive pop songs, and at a time when the watermark for such music is pretty high anyway, it really does stand out from the crowd.

The whole album is a new frontier for Necro Deathmort, and it’s one worth exploring with them.

Basses Loaded is something of a mixed bag. Some of it works, some of it doesn’t and some of it is just a little bit too silly for its own good. As usual though, the good far out-weighs the bad, and the Pinkus and McDonald and Warren contributions make it worth a look.

As an album it is of questionable value, but its ambitions are much bigger than the album form.

Laura Mvula has proved emphatically that her debut was no one-off and this highly accomplished return establishes her further as a unique, captivating talent.

The Triad edges ever closer to the purely experimental, with another tentative step rather than a bold foray into the electronica wilds, but for now it’s a worthy diversion from the well-trodden paths of other techno producers.

What we have is a confusing, confused and self-indulgent record that frequently sags under its own ambition, with the fleeting moments of beauty offering a chastening reminder that sometimes it’s better to simply stick to what you’re good at..99

It seems a blinkered record, which can be admired for its defiantly non-commercial stance. It won’t win Fearless any new fans, and may distance Death In Vegas into more of a cult concern. All well and good if that’s the intent; otherwise, perhaps it’s time to draw the curtains, get some vitamin D and thumb through that ‘guest vocalist’ address book.

Tired Of Tomorrow presents with a clearer, crisper sound than its predecessor. To call it clean would be neatening it up too much, but for better or worse it does feel sleeker.

There’s no doubting Middleton’s way with a skewed tune and a wry look at the world, but Summer Of ’13 is buried beneath the sheen of production that sits uneasily on his shoulders.

There are several false starts during The Kills’ fifth effort and the execution does not always quite match the intention, but for the most part it’s a successful return for the duo.

The Monkees have made an album which stands readily among the best of their career and of the year so far.

Ultimately, Wild Things is her most consistent and coherent effort to date, surpassing even her debut. It may have taken four years, but the end result has more than justified the wait.

The flipside to this slightly dark streak that permeates the album with its huge drum pulses and malfunctioning circuitry, is the gentle subtlety at work.

Those who choose to embrace and eulogise anything the great man releases will no doubt laud Fallen Angels as another triumph, but the harsh reality is this is Bob on auto-pilot.

Exceeding an hour in length, though, some may find it a little too lacking in variety and be soundly asleep before the end--which would be a shame, as it’s one of the better psychedelic albums to reach our ears this year.