It all adds up to an emotionally gruelling record that’s patently not intended for passive listening. But it’s an album that’s worth steeling oneself for.

This is very much an album that feels necessary right now--one that packs a political punch without being didactic or evangelical--and offers positive thinking, including a clarion call of co-operative and community responses to global issues.

Sol Invictus is not a bad return, but it’s not the greatest thing Faith No More has ever done.

In revealing some of their insecurities, Hot Chip have reminded both themselves and us of their importance and relevance, and have made a record of both sense and sensibility.

Entanglement is an album that needs to be considered alongside genre heavyweights like The Blue Notebooks by Max Richter or Englabörn by Jóhann Jóhannsson. It’s a timely reminder of how high modern classical music can reach.

Whilst it’s a brave attempt to explore new lands outside their comfort zone, it’s one that isn’t quite as rewarding and rich as Patrick Watson would have hoped.

Both qualities [her immense talent and charisma] are on ample display on Hairless Toys.

There are some fine moments here, but all too often Dumb Flesh seems like a diluted version of Fuck Buttons.

They’ve never really risen to heights that maybe they should have scaled but with so many infectious pop melodies lurking under the fuzz, it’s just as remarkable that they remain on the periphery of their genre.

You can’t help but feel that given better production this could well have been the album of the year that some over-enthusiastic sorts claim. One of the surprises of the year, however? Definitely.

It does sound very different from their previous two albums. Unfortunately, in doing so, they’ve produced the most crushingly average album of the year so far.

Judging by Rose Windows’ now final album, the shame is that differences, whatever they were, could not be overcome because a growing, developing collection of musicians was just beginning to dent the consciousness of a much larger audience. Instead of eagerly anticipating their next move, we are therefore left to cling to their last hurrah.

Part of the difficulty with this is, simply, that--taken as a body of work (album) rather than a collection of individual tracks--interest can start to wane. This isn’t helped, either, by the chiefly indistinguishable lyrics: that character-and light/shade-drenched vocal might be enormously listenable, but for most of the time we aren’t able to make out what it is articulating.

Danger In The Club exudes an appealing spontaneity but frustratingly the songwriting still seems a bit haphazard, with the lyrics in particular remaining underwhelming.

Heyoon is an often confusing collection that depicts a mad mind, but one that at times offers enough intrigue to warrant attention.

It gets on with the job in hand, never short changing the listener, and in the process providing a valuable insight into one of pop music’s great creative minds in the process.

Peter Broderick has clearly been in some dark places since we last heard from him, but here he is back on track--and for that we are abundantly grateful.

With Other Lives, there’s always something interesting and exciting going on in their songs.

As Born Under Saturn reaches its final third, the level of consistency remains high, with tracks such as the expansive High Moon and the almost nonchalant Beginning To Fade both worth a mention.

MCIII might fail to live up to its billing as concept album, but it absolutely doesn’t fail to provide a steady stream of big-hearted guitar-pop songs.

2011’s Circuital was up there with their best work and now Jim James and company are back again with The Waterfall, which maintains their high standards.

The gestation has meant that the album really captures her individual voice as a writer and singer whilst the variety in the instrumentation and sound presents her as an open-minded seeker of new ideas.

Whilst there are a few darker moments (particularly towards the midsection) there’s are also a number of delicate and beautiful moments too.

It’s a strong and pressing example of how musical elements from different geographical sources can be integrated successfully and portrayed in cohesive, striking style.

+ – might be a tad more restrained and less obviously ambitious than its two predecessors, but it’s still a meticulously crafted, consistently melodic and frequently beautiful work from an excellent band.

This is basically a gang of extremely accomplished musicians in their 60s getting together, who have no need to break any new barriers. As such, it’s another worthy entry in the canon for this particular gang of heroes.

The Magic Whip succeeds splendidly in coming across as a comeback album that hasn’t been overthought, flashing a nonchalant dare to any prospective Oasis reunion project.

Indifferent, but an essential listen, even if just for the brilliant finale.