Patch The Sky is certainly a difficult listen but it’s not without a odd kind of sweetness--it’s full of grief and bleakness to be sure, but there’s also an exhilarating sense of catharsis to be had.

Soulful, sexy and captivating, Mind Of Mine hints at the flexibility, focus and character required of the brightest solo stars.

In its own way, the album is as tied to a central concept as his last few recordings, but here that concept is presented in a more expansive, more enquiring way.

As gross as The Body set out to make No One Deserves Happiness, it is Wolpert’s presence that actually provides it with an element of hope. She’s like a flower in a bomb crater, and in a weird way, The Body might just have made one of the most hopeful pop albums ever.

Despite wavering towards the second half, there is no doubt that this is Weezer’s best album in years.

Grapefruit is an exhilaratingly exciting album.

Where Barking was all about the kinetic energy of the feet and arms, Barbara… joins the soul and the head, its rhythms enhancing rather than driving the experience.

Thanks in no small part to the significant contribution of Homme, the shirtless rocker has created his best work since his early Bowie collaborations.

2013 is one of those records you get something new from with every listen.

Clark takes creating this soundtrack to monumental forms, letting the components get weathered and scarred through his manipulation to create a landscape of history, emotion and musical depth.

Compared to some of Primal Scream’s bold ventures in the past, it may be a bit lightweight, but it’s full of effervescent appeal.

The darkness is more fully embraced on Easy Window, which smoulders elegantly and possesses a distinct undertow full of sorrow and a sense of detachment. When it’s done this well, it’s hard not to get swept up in it, but there are moments when it doesn’t quite come off.

Full Circle is a promising start for a trio of artists who already possess a clear vision of the type of music they want to create. The chances are they will only improve with time to grow their songcraft and ideas further.

This is handcrafted, in-it-for-the-long-haul music, which will give many hours of pleasure.

There are a couple of fillers on the album, but Girl At The End Of The World is a strong, distinctive addition to the band’s work.

Her songs are a beguiling mix of sizzling synth-pop, and for want of a better phrase, Nordic-folk.

It’s these minimal moments of Long Way Home that work best.

It’s a marvellously un-sobering boisterous beast of a record, and a sparkling début.

Palomino isn’t a perfect album by any means. A few tracks feel a little rock by numbers, and for all the excellence on show Treetop Flyers do lack that streak of originality and cosmic weirdness that elevate American contemporaries such as Father John Misty or My Morning Jacket. Yet these are small criticisms of a band who have built upon the promise of their début very impressively indeed.

Dry Food approaches the subject from a different angle to the tried-and-killed solo artist template of acoustic guitar plus deserted cabin with nothing but a glove puppet for company.

It is good to have The Coral back, and while Distance Inbetween may not find them consistently hitting the songwriting heights it does consistently impress with the quality of its musical delivery and the authenticity of James Skelly’s vocals.

If you’ve yet to indulge in this band’s output, you really ought to, bearing in mind this is now the third album in a row where their strange but endearing music hits the spot.

Second Love pays off most of all on those repeated listens--it’s not her most immediate collection of songs, but over time they reveal themselves to be her most rewarding.

Those familiar with the older Årabrot will find much to admire here, and this is far from a crossover album, but in terms of scope both sonically, lyrically and artistically, it’s perhaps the defining moment of the band so far.

Monoglot English speakers may have little idea what she’s singing about, but such is the passion and grace of her delivery, Brahim could be reciting the Milton Keynes telephone directory and few would object. The fact that she has an important message to share makes her performance, and this album, even more significant and impressive.

It seems as if You Know Who You Are is a shrug of the shoulders, a ‘let’s get on with it regardless’ statement instead of letting themselves get hung up over near misses and spluttering to a mid-air stalling. Instead they’re very much still soaring amongst the clouds.

There’s no doubting that The Ridge is a good album, but sometimes the supporting players don’t quite compliment Neufeld’s compositions as well as they might.

Whilst they are mostly good cuts, the vocal tracks are disappointing in comparison (with the exception of Beneath The Black Sea); ultimately, there’s likely to be a few yawns and subsequent yearning for a new album by The National instead.