The descent into indie R&B anaemia on 'Animal' is less exciting, but otherwise, drenched in field recordings of whisked eggs and jangling bracelets, this album is an imaginative and accessible bout of boundary-crushing.

Whatever gear they have at their disposal, WITTR remain almost unbeatable for swelling, atmospheric excellence.

Their seventh album finds the London indie veterans dusting their melancholy songs with hope and loveable melodies, each a compelling tale in its own right.

Whether it's 'Tension Remains'' collision of religious chorale and space-age pulse or the jazz-soul cyberpunk of 'Never Defeated', the result is always original.

For the most part, Model Of You pushes Cloud Boat out into broader, more turbulent waters.

While it’s often been easy to sum up McGuinness himself with that statement, whether he wants the attention or not Chroma is a forceful enough effort to propel him centre-stage.

Departure isn't merely a psychedelia record cut with Suicide-aping proto-punk. These eight songs wrestle free of that assumption, flying off in myriad directions.

What’s really intriguing about Jungle, though, is its darker side. There's a tone of inner-city malaise, romantic ruin and psychedelic alienation to a raft of its tracks that speaks to those modern urbanites feeling screen-wiped and robbed of opportunities, busy earnin’ for nothing.

Taking so many chances means there are inevitable hiccups, but they scarcely matter.

Beverly’s effortless indie rock debut is the result of a casual collaboration between honey-voiced guitarist Drew Citron and her occasional employer, former Dum Dum and Vivian Girl Frankie Rose.

Remember Remember are more about awe than aggression, and resolutely their own thing: this is music to lose yourself in, rather than to.

What saves that song ["Slow Motion"] , and indeed the album as a whole, is Monica Martin's honeyed voice; it's full of soul, even when the arrangements aren't.

While it is maddeningly catchy in places and well put together, its defining characteristic is a conservative streak that sits strangely with this most anarchical of bands.

Of course, for all its honourable intentions, it still paints a picture of 100 dudes in a basement yelling the refrain, “She’s good for a girl”. But when they aren’t committing feminist faux pas, Greys stand on the verge of leading a new generation of punk.

This third LP is jumpy and beat-driven and banishes the memory of the dubstep scene he emerged from.

His attempts to revolutionise, strip bare and stretch the borders of R&B with all manner of glitches, gollums and glaciers are admirable, but it’s only when he tranquilizes his inner Usher for the downbeat piano throb of ‘See You Fall’, the spectral orchestration of ‘Pour Cyril’ and the acoustic minimalism of ‘2 Years On (Shame Dream)’ that he achieves the subtlety and invention of, say, Sufjan Stevens.

Currently, there are few notable British producers creating such brilliantly odd pieces of music as this.

Musically Once More 'Round The Sun is equivalent to having several tons of hot molten lava poured into your eye sockets for about an hour.

‘Archaic Revival’ is the centre-point though; nine minutes of tension-gripped, creeping bass and echoed mantras, its queasiness adds a weight of darkness to this mesmerising trip.

The cocky confidence that barrelled them into the big time might just be losing momentum--a band made of bold leaps have started dipping toes.

The line between self-aware irony and tragically conforming to type is thin, though, her knowing winks getting stuck in a tangle of false eyelashes, and ultimately undermining what had the potential to be a powerful artistic statement.

Ultra-lo-fi, but an album nonetheless stuffed full of rich melodies and arch lyrical observations.

Only when Leithauser relaxes the template does he start to cock it up.

Jaded & Faded strikes a fine balance between self-deprecation and the supreme confidence needed to get away with suggesting you've had your chips. But there's no second album syndrome here. It whoops ass.

Delve into the lyrics a little deeper, particularly the title track, and it becomes even clearer that Bauer sees his old band's split as the first step towards spiritual enlightenment and finding certainty amid the chaos.

Adrian Toubro sings like every word causes him a jolt of pain, but his songs are literate and fine-crafted, reading like distilled existential dramas.

heir lighter moments can be a bit cringeworthy--too earnest by half--but when they go slow and heavy, they’re unfuckwithable.

It might not kill the Mumford and Butler clones, but The Hunting Party is an energetic effort at least.

Lone coats everything in the same Orbital-esque melodies that made 2012’s 'Galaxy Garden' such a winner, producing an album that is both intriguingly new and gorgeously listenable.

As passion-packed as her visceral diatribes are, they suffer through being frustratingly free of dynamics.

Here, on their fifth album, the Brooklyn trio sound emboldened, finding room for horn sections and plaintive piano lines amid the murk.

The artist's 3rd album constitutes the h-pop formula at its most unremarkable.

[A] curiously eclectic record.

The likes of highlight ‘Ruby’ and ‘Step Into The Cold’ are gloriously faithful nods to their influences, executed with enough dedication to the head-music revivalist cause to make them far more than mere pastiche.

As desolate and coldly beautiful as a windswept moor, What’s Between refuses to yield simple answers but rewards deep exploration.

Love Me follows up 2012 debut album ‘Salton Sea’, but edges away from sleek, techno throb towards something more tender and torch song.

Recorded with Vår’s Loke Rahbek on synth and Malthe Fischer, ex-Oh No Ono, on guitar and production, these 10 electro-pop songs truly glisten.

Like the syndrome named after the titular city, you’ll fall for these tunes with repeated exposure, but you’ll live without them once you’re free from them too.

This is no identity crisis, it's the sound of beautiful evolution.

An assured debut.

Clipping's nightmare is riveting, particularly during its sweat-inducing peak 'Get Up', which uses an alarm clock as a beat underneath breakneck verses.

The nostalgic nods become wearier in the second half, but Beauty & Ruin is strong enough to add weight to the argument that alternative rock belongs to Bob Mould; everyone else is just borrowing it.

At times the sisters risk being bogged down by a certain two-dimensionality, but they prove there’s more to them than a sparkling glumness with ‘My Silver Lining.’

Luck has its moments, but in terms of defining a way forward for Vek, chance would be a fine thing.

It's not without charm--the needle-jump static of 'Dolly And Porter' gently drives a sweet melody; stroboscopic flickers of synth make a gripping arrangement for 'Closer To The Elderly'--but too often it's just Taylor's fragile voice cooing drab, introspective mantras over sparse electric piano.

A varied album that lacks any monster riffs like the ones White used to write for The White Stripes, but includes enough intrigue, originality and plain weirdness to delight and, in some places, appal.

‘Blameless’ and ‘Little Moments’ marshal some nice glimmering synths, but Alec Ounsworth’s mewling vocal--while unquestionably distinctive--remains a bit of an odd proposition to achieve the requisite Everyman appeal.

Howling Bells aren't back to their best, but they're within touching distance.

It’s lyrically weak, however, (sample: “The moon falls in your doorway”) and although there’s sparkle in the production, Johns reveals himself to be a far from charismatic singer.

There’s melody and slick production throughout, but all the life and soul of an accountancy website.

Their first two albums, 'Checkmate Savage' (2009) and 'The Wants' (2011), pulled together elements as diverse as krautrock, campfire sing-songs and pure, pulsing pop. Strange Friend is all this and more.

Morrison, Spector, Doherty, Cobain; The Orwells know their roots and they know how that story plays out.

Sunbathing Animal is not an immediate or cushy listen, but it is gripping; a considered and brutal reminder that Parquet Courts’ aren’t necessarily an accessible band.

Those heavier cuts are the album’s best--dark, dreamy and abrasive.

As an album, it’s uneven, but its stream of highlights make this a fun listen, perfect for the summer.

Fucked Up can remain relevant without the need for continual, exhausting reinvention.

The Glasgow trio bring an almighty ruckus on second album Youth Culture Forever, building on the ear-splitting success of 2012 debut ‘Cokefloat!’ while discovering enough new shades of grey to give EL James a run for her money.

Expansive, immersive indiepop; how these Pains have grown.

Sound Mirror’s mix of jazz rhythms and psychedelic funk cuts a distinctive, if unfashionable, path.

Far lighter than their grungey 2013 debut, 'Antipodes', it's pitched between the blissed-out guitar of Splashh and the idiosyncratic pop approach of fellow Kiwi, Unknown Mortal Orchestra.

Movements is full of urgency; songs struggling to keep up with everything thrown at them.

Government Plates is a challenging listen, but as one of the most transgressive records of the year.

Round the back nine (‘Golden Fire’, ‘Kilmore’s End’, ‘Overnight’), the attention to detail slips, and they end up with a load of meat patties of twee that just come across as Owl City in fashionable shoes, a whiny inner-child deserving of a smacked botty-bot.

They feel like they could have been made at any time since 1951, yet they sound completely, compellingly new.

Breakfast, for all its modest attractions, never quite transcends its talented-journeyman origins.

'Mythnomer’'s nightmarish pitch-shifted vocal and claustrophobic beats are a misjudged move, but on the whole Breathing Statues is a world that's ripe for sinking into.

As a whole, Meteorites fails to set the sky on fire.

By the time closing waltz 'Bring Me Down' ends, intimacy levels are so high that you feel like a contented voyeur.

Consciously retro, sure, but more convincingly so than Disclosure and similar young bucks.

Van Etten tackles heartache with refreshing sharpness, distilling complex sentiments into something beautifully simple.

Compulsive and conflicted.

Jacko xscaped in a faulty pod, but now at least we’ve a worthy tribute.

Like ‘The Girl And The Robot’ from Röyksopp’s 2009 ‘Junior’ album, and it begins with a stunner--‘Monument’, a winding and mystical 10-minute epic containing startlingly self-confident lyrics.

Too often, though, the rage is vague.

Its portraits of downtown legends like Lou Reed and Alan Vega are far more affectionate than much of his scabrous output, with music that flits between dreamy Velvets simplicity and the synthetic throb of Suicide.

Besides ‘It Is Only You’ and ‘Here Comes The Storm’, the mountain-shouting bravado of old tracks like ‘Borders’ and ‘Put You In Your Place’ has been dampened, but TSU is an intriguing new sunrise.

For her less conventional-sounding follow-up, she and producer Prince Fatty have beefed up the basslines, giving her tropical pop songs a dubby atmosphere.

Overall, Pure X’s immersive charm remains intact. Only ‘Rain’ betrays the heady sonics of old.

The formula wears pretty thin towards the end--bee-stung emoting in the verses, splashy catharsis in the chorus--but Glorious is no failure.

Too often, Thumpers fall flat.

In defiance of a criminal lack of universal adulation, they just get better, harder, faster, stronger, and you boggle at just how formidable they might be in their dotage.

Everybody Down brings to life a plotline that’ll be more fully explored in Tempest’s debut novel, published by Bloomsbury later this year. It’s hard to imagine it being more gripping than this, though.

It all harks back to the word-in-your-ear confessionals of ‘Fevers And Mirrors’. Were it not for the whimsical, country-tropical jangle of ‘Hundreds Of Ways’, Upside Down Mountain would very nearly be its equal.

Tiersen never loses touch with his innate sense of melody, but the lack of edge means that Infinity's charms are, in fact, finite.

At times that flow can feel fractured, but the underlying consistency is a singular vision and an irrepressible sense of purpose.

Easy Pain proves hard to like; and with little more than aimless aggression to cling onto for eight songs, you realise it’s all muscle.

Heartfelt, human electronica that pulses with a folksy emotion thanks to Meath’s beautifully warm vocals, the duo’s debut LP is a summer essential.

Sparkling synth melodies abound on ‘Time Enough’ and ‘Shapes And Patterns’, with only the meandering Pink Floyd indulgence ‘Vapour Trails’ dragging the journey down.

Aside from the vocoder-enhanced cosmic disco that features midway, this is an introverted offering--though much too good to fall asleep to.

Love is a lush, romantic, folk-driven collection that moves away from his earlier, more psychedelic work.

Ghost Stories is a feeling more than a collection of songs, and takes a willing reception for granted. That feeling's not rancorous, it's bloodless and resigned, but touching as well.

This Brooklyn band, completed by Dale Eisinger on drums and electronics, strike a thrilling balance between extreme industrial sound and remarkable artistry.

Aldred shares Richard Hawley's producer Colin Elliot, but also his gruff, warmhearted authority, and it's a similar hard-won wisdom that makes Herd Runners so moving.

Their 2011 debut album was nominated for the Polaris Prize, Canada’s equivalent of the Mercury--although UZU, its follow-up, is bolder, rangier and more ambitious than anything likely to trouble that bauble’s orbit.

This time there are killer hooks aplenty that immediately hit the spot. Midnight scorchio, more like.

It all sounds immaculate, but lacks the memorable lyrics and direct hooks of Papercuts’ pop forbears.

Bo Ningen have become more approachable without losing the ferocity and anything-goes attitude that made them so exciting in the first place.

A mid-section of orchestral Bacharach lounge pop, hints of Gorillaz afro-hop on ‘Allweddellau Allweddol’, the glitchy gospel of ‘The Swamp’ and some glacial grandeur on ‘Walk Into The Wilderness’ and 'Year Of The Dog' bring a sense of nobility and glory to the tale of this tribe-hunting madman.