Even during its more ludicrous moments, though, it’s impossible to deny the beauty that often shines through.

The songs are stronger than ever, and the production remains recognisably the work of Hamilton’s hand.

A solid album, one which, given time to explore its layers and textures, justifies investigations tenfold.

It is in Anthony Gonzalez’ veins to make pop music where the listener will swoon, dream and ultimately smile. Despite the mournful lag in the middle of JUNK, that is what he does once again here--in his own inimitable way.

At times, you yearn for the presence of a strong editor in the studio.

For the most part, though, Morby is refashioning his admiration for canonical songwriters through a closer attention to mood, atmosphere and the evocative potential of sound.

It might not be FOTL’s most accessible album, but The Peace And Truce is perhaps their most rewarding. Once those rough edges have been understood and accepted, Falkous’ cryptic lyrics are an endless source of mirth and puzzlement. There’s depth here, and it’s not just in Ruzick’s bass lines.

Twelve years may have been time to labour too much over some ideas, but there are core moments to this that show an intelligent and important band still stretching the parameters of what’s possible for a rock outfit.

With each album, Gibson develops these techniques, and Empire Builder sees her building these details to a new peak.

Overall, there aren’t enough risks taken on Love Letter For Fire to make it a truly outstanding album; it’s a very pleasant, comfortable journey rather than an especially memorable one.

What’s left is something truly fresh, barely recognisable, a shuddering, bending feast of sound.

Her music is always so distinctly hers, and she remains one of the most distinctive and thrilling voices we have.

Héloïse Letissier’s synth-driven record is a more subtle, catch-you-unaware affair.

It may tread familiar territory but that’s fine--this far into the game, they’re hardly going to deliver their jazz odyssey.

here he goes from here will surely be fascinating, but in the meantime you are strongly advised to check out of all distractions for an hour and surrender to his bewitching music.

In the end, the repeated invocation of booze, drugs and sugar betrays a semi-permanence, with Welcome The Worms feeling like more of a quick fix despite some effective catharsis, and it’s disappointing that a band held in high esteem for their live energy have yet to fully realise that on record. That doesn’t dull the album’s instant charm, however.

A vacuum that sucks you in and dumps you among the dust you tried to sweep away. And from the dunes of that dust emerge a band well in their stride.

There’s far more good to be found on Red Flag than there is bad--this feels like the genuine follow-up to Saints And Sinners that Studio 1 should have been.

She over-eggs the pudding occasionally, but that’s a small price to pay for adventure.

In their search for pop perfection though, they do actually hit the mark a couple of times; it’s just a shame that the best moments mostly appear at the album’s commencement because they far outweigh the vast majority of what follows, meaning you could be tempted to drift off in conversation before the album’s conclusion or, worse still, fall asleep.

The wilderness and going off the map might seem like a frightening concept, but after a little exploration, there’s beauty to be found everywhere.

The band are far from fans of modern pop and their twisted take on the genre continues to beguile and enchant in equal measure, but the ideas never overwhelm their fourth album. As a result, their return sees them get back to something like their captivating best.

It [Die Like A Rich Boy] is a poignant conclusion to what often feels like a cathartic record; one that will take you on a wonderful rollercoaster of emotional highs and lows.

It too often sounds like a diluted version of what’s gone before, a collection that struggles to reach the highs of old.

The resulting album, jubilant and enthralling, is really a three way collaboration between the two artists and Kenis.

Love Streams is always on the move. It’s alive and constantly evolving: a slippery beast of a record that you can try and get a hold of, but thankfully you probably never will.

At this point in Mogwai’s history, it’d be unreasonable to expect any kind of seismic shift in direction, but what they’ve done with Atomic is refine their methods to create something that could just possibly be the highlight of the career to date.

In this urgent, dense, ambient, technical music Three Trapped Tigers have produced something that is very much their own.