The 10 tracks disappear in a brisk 28 minutes, as if to say, ‘Chin up, mate, get on with it’. A heartbreak record--done the British way.

Revelations wants to be unlistenable, but it can’t always hide Shamir’s songwriting strengths.

There’s much to be said for playing to your strengths, though, and they’ve honed their contrasting, distinctive sounds with this impressive double release. Krept & Konan have plenty of days and nights ahead of them.

There’s much to be said for playing to your strengths, though, and they’ve honed their contrasting, distinctive sounds with this impressive double release. Krept & Konan have plenty of days and nights ahead of them.

Lyrically, Beach House 3 is a step away from the musician’s satin-sheeted comfort zone, but we may have to wait for ‘Beach House 4’ to see him truly come of age.

Pacific Daydream is all carefree, expertly crafted pop, free of irony and all the better for it. Lock the doors, crack open a cold one, and enjoy an endless summer with Weezer.

At its best, his songwriting is appealingly simple and straightforward: the title track offers an evocative portrait of a relationship that’s breaking down. But at times, Horan’s lyrics let him down a little.

By adding a decent dose of 2017 into her classic sound, Price creates something truly great.

As a collection of songs, however, Colors is by far Beck’s most upbeat and enjoyable record from front to back since the ’90s. Repeated listens will no doubt be rewarded.

Taken whole, it’s a looping, dense, all-encompassing experience where anger and tenderness bang heads throughout. Marshall’s world is grimier than ever.

In Masseduction we already have both Dorian and his portrait: the fox on the album’s cover, all rampant neons, stockinged legs, and taut flesh, and the inner ravaging--material just too good to keep in the attic.

Kelela has crafted a cool and sensual album which feels cohesive without slipping into saminess.

Lahey’s debut is a confessional, confident and important arrival.

For Manson fans this is familiar territory: the same mechanical riffs, same whisper/scream vocals heard on his regular stream of albums. Here, most songs are entertaining rather than groundbreaking. Occasionally they’re neither.

The glammy, foot-stomping country bounce of tracks like ‘Greedy Soul’ make sure this isn’t a hoary dad-rock indulgence, but a totally 2017 rock record with its sights set high.

As America crumbles, Protomartyr have proved that they can be that cereus, blooming in the dark times we inhabit--and continue blossoming into a formidable and vital band.

Who knows which Miley Cyrus will emerge after the rootsy and real Younger Now, but we recommend enjoying Country Miley for as long as she lasts.

A record so bold, brave and jaw-droppingly advanced it should sound out a secret “album of the year” message when played backwards.

There’s more space and sophistication to The Spark than we’ve seen from Shikari before.

The band have responded by unleashing their ballsiest selves.

[Flowers] bares more on Wonderful Wonderful than ever before, and the result is the band’s best album since 2006’s ‘Sam’s Town’.

A kind of urban folksiness runs deep through the record, and the strummed softness of ‘Would You Rather’ even features Bright Eyes’ Conor Oberst. The downbeat vibe is cut through by unmitigated banger ‘Motion Sickness’ but Strangers In The Alps is definitely album for the sad times.

As the album unfolds, the band continue to nail the balance between rebellious anthems and cutting social commentary.

It’s honest, personal and wholly relatable. Rostam may have defined Vampire Weekend’s sound, but with Half-Light he begins to define himself.

This is not a subtle record, but these are not subtle times. So grab a Marshall stack, put it through a fascist’s window and let’s start the revolution. Now.

A record that features some of the band’s most vital and impressive tracks in years.

Dom Ganderton and Ryan Malcolm are a deft hand at bringing colour out of the mundane in their honest, and often nostalgic lyrics.

They’ve [experimental sonics] been added to the steadfast elements that make The National so good: clever turns of phrase, genius storytelling, Bryan Devendorf’s marching-band drums, delightful arrangements and piano and brass that work well together.

It’s the sound of all your messiest student rock nights packed into 39 breathless minutes.

It’s hard to see where Bugg goes from here: he’s either a man still in search of a niche or, more worryingly, locked into the wrong one.

The good news is that American Dream delivers, point by point, on everything you could want from an LCD Soundsystem album.

Lovers of the plush paranoia of 2014’s breakthrough album ‘Lost In The Dream’ will be relieved that his fourth outing doesn’t touch that dial. From the opening highway piano judder of ‘Up All Night’ it’s like losing yourself once more in some lost golden age of MOR.

This, then, is the sound of living in the moment and it’s glorious.

By the time ‘No Mercy’ arrives, there’s no escaping how catchy this record is.

A Fever Dream is by far the most focused, making good on frontman Jonathan Higgs’ recent claim to NME that the songs “need each other”.

SCUM, then, is more revolt than revolution. But there’s undoubtedly talent here--and there’s every chance Cardy, not T, will be the touchpoint 10 years from now.

The cathartic nature of the album is clearest on the emotive piano and string-laden ballad ‘Praying’, a forceful Lady-Gaga-worthy offering of defiance, as she hollers “’Cos you brought the flames and you put me through hell / I had to learn how to fight for myself”.

It’s a scattershot album gelled together by Mensa’s emotionally frank lyrics, which reveal a complex persona.

Lust For Life deals with themes that’ll be familiar to Lana devotees; faded Hollywood glamour, skewed Americana and terrible love. But this time around, Lana is even more grandiose than usual, with lush, sweeping orchestration draped elegantly over each of the album’s 16 tracks.

Backed by a supporting cast of R&B superstars and bright newcomers, it’s a record of long, lazy summers; sitting back and staring at the clouds.

He hasn’t sounded this vital in years.

To all intents and purposes McKenna is a teen breakout star, but describing him that way feels reductive after listening to his debut, on which he proves himself a serious lyricist who deserves more than to be put in a box.

Energy, desire and that indefinable cool that any great rock band must have burst from every angle. This album feels like a celebration, and Sheer Mag sure deserve one.

Universal High is the reinvention we never knew we needed.

Ultimately it’s the album’s sense of humanity, not its innate clever-cleverness, that elevates it to something special.

These five tracks climax with ‘Hypnotised’, a solemn country swooner resembling John Lennon’s ‘Mother’, easily their best barnstorming ballad since ‘Fix You’. It’s heartening evidence that Coldplay haven’t entirely been sucked into the machinery while trying to subvert pop music from within.

The record never diverts from a tried-and-tested formula, but Crossan brings a modern touch via nifty production tricks and songwriting knacks.

The end result is a record rooted in the bass flicks, shimmering synths and lovelorn lyrics that defined their debut.

Funk Wav Bounces Vol. 1 is a triumph; a good-time album of wall-to-wall hits with a carefree, funky tropical feel and more than enough cool points to see him embraced by the hipster crowd as well as holding on to the pop kids.

These heartfelt, confessional apologies are delivered via Jay’s most concise, straightforward album in years. 10 tracks and 36 minutes long, this is a filler-free return to form after 2013’s patchy and bloated ‘Magna Carta Holy Grail’.

The Earth, Wind & Fire-sampling ‘It’s Sunny’ is too cheesy, and ‘Aye Muthaf***a’ slips in some Rihanna-style dancehall beats, but elsewhere TLC offers a familiar mix of breezy R&B tunes and folky self-acceptance jams.

Aside from hollering his name or catchphrases--“Another one!”, “Bless up!”, “We The Best Music!”--there’s no doubt Khaled’s formidable connections were the driving force behind Grateful. But, even with a dream team like this assembled, Khaled hasn’t located the ‘major key’ to the masterpiece he desired.

This latest effort might represent a small progression, but it’s far from an evolution.

Whatever this is, it’s jaw-dropping.

With a lilting, mountain-spring-clear vocal, Lillie effortlessly brings to mind Dolly Parton, whose sass and strength she channels throughout her solo debut’s 11 tracks. This is old-school country music that digs deep into the past.

It’s a rudely excellent album, introspective without ever being indulgent, OTT in all the right ways, honest and brave, full of brilliant songs with lyrics to chew over for months.

From the outset it makes clear that it features songs that aren’t rooted in any one place or time, but are effortlessly stitched together to create a dynamic mapping of modern urban existence.

Ctrl’s strength is how it doesn’t strive to be one thing over the other. It effortlessly winds between narratives and genres like it’s child’s play. This isn’t a star in the making, it’s a fully-fledged talent who’s practically showing off.

Familiar ground, but consider this the sound of modern masters honing their craft.

Some may be unconvinced by the ambitious leap Fleet Foxes have made on album three, but there’s really no doubting the first-rate intelligence behind this uncompromising and ever-changing piece of work.

Witness isn’t about subtlety, but if you’re going to deliver important messages about female autonomy to a young audience, it’s surely better to shout than whisper.

There are ballsy moments--they just happen to be coated in the trio’s signature icy cool.

Hopeless Fountain Kingdom might be defiantly ambitious, but it’s surprisingly cohesive.

Gone Now proves he should be recognised as more than a writing partner or producer to the stars, but one of the stars himself.

Those vocals are the magic ingredient, saving potentially limp tracks from extinction. But it’s equally impressive to hear how confidently the debut holds itself together, flitting between styles but always shining a spotlight on a legitimate pop sensation. She’s the real deal.

Great album, if not entirely relaxing.

The Amazons will do little to dispel any of the criticisms of the current state of rock, but there’s just enough here to suggest that when the band are at their most electrifying, not much can halt their inevitable rise to the top--despite what the old guard say.

It’s not an issue that this is a pop album. The issue is that it’s weak and is a contrived commercial move.

This is very much a post-Stormzy, post-Skepta, post-Drake-going-roadman album, and an important stepping stone along the path to the UK establishing itself as a bona fide world-beater at beats and rhymes.

After Laughter comes over like the earnest, fist-pumping soundtrack to a long-lost John Hughes coming-of-age film.

Taking inspiration from the best seems to have paid dividends, but it doesn’t half make you wonder what the real Harry Styles sounds like.

The duo use fun to become fearless, combating fear with every ounce of inner strength they can find. Pageant is the sound of a band truly hitting their stride.

He may have started out as the quintessential angry young man, but he’s become a textbook study in growing old gracefully--by doggedly refusing to stay set in his ways, Paul Weller keeps finding new ones to surprise us.

in•ter a•li•a is the opposite of being phoned in.

These songs are the sound of joy, canned and compressed for your aural pleasure.

This Old Dog is mostly a gorgeous, perfectly paced record for lazy days outside. But every so often a moment of madness slips in, and this gives the Canadian an edge over his peers.

So strange, it’s fantastic.

DAMN. is by far his shortest release to date – but the ideas, thoughts and feelings it contains are massive, weighty things, from sexual tension to deep, dark depression.

The production values on You Are We are perfection--too many metalcore records overproduce until notes feel clinical. But ‘Feel’ builds and drops like an avalanche of brilliance, Taylor’s voice firing off a round of vocal ammo with ease.

Risk To Exist is a cracking post-debate disco record, certainly, but no one ever changed the world over cocktails at Club Tropicana.

All too often, tracks feel like connectors – carriages to transport listeners between the singles. There’s little narrative, few definitive themes, but there are lots of guests.

The more experimental side of the record is where things get really challenging.

That’s Your Lot isn’t the instant-classic debut they might have hoped for, but it delivers on their early promise, and offers tantalising hints at where they might go from here.

This is an album that delivers both mood and melody, thanks in no small part to Nagano.

Largely, this is a set of songs that seep, creep and grow in strength, like opener ‘Aladdin’, ‘Time On Her Side’ and ‘Cave’.

A powerful piece of work, but one that will leave you with as many questions as it does answers.

Classically trained, the breadth of Ainsworth’s talent is laid bare on Darling Of The Afterglow.

Mastodon have written the most personal album of their career, and in doing so perhaps their most pertinent too.

The blurred lines are kinda the point and half the fun. But now The Moonlandingz have turned fiction into semi-reality by making their debut album... and it’s brilliant.

Their jaunty Americana morphs from something lovely into something utterly essential.

Overall Mercer’s songwriting creds are well in tact.

There are some dull ballads towards the end, and the title track’s flimsy R&B isn’t even redeemed by its righteous opening line: “My love is more potent than anything in the cup you’re holding”. But like all the best pop stars, Larsson shines bright even when her material lets her down. And when it matches her, she’s basically irresistible.

The five-piece’s debut album is a mini manifesto on harnessing your own power, pooling it with your mates’ and taking on anything the world throws at you.

Every day is Halloween with Creeper, in the very best way.

It doesn’t always work, not least in ‘Shotgun’’s iffy mix of Nashville-ready instrumentals and a chugging house beat. On the flipside, ‘Do I Have To Talk You Into It’ sticks so stubbornly to the Spoon template it could be a discarded number from any of their previous records.

Sadly, towards the close the balance is lost and the fine-but-inessential ‘Summer Moon’, ‘Weeds Through The Rind’ and ‘Schlager’ end things on a weak note.

Heavier, harder and with a lot more clout about them, Circa Waves’ return is finally something you can believe in.

It all adds up to the most serene, stylistically varied album Marling has ever created.