This band surf the cosmic channels of krautrock, cruising along on motorik beats, waving at pals The Horrors and tipping their hats to Syd Barrett as they chug through hypnotic, psychedelic pop songs.

In every way, ‘Bob Vylan Presents: The Price Of Life’ is a far more eclectic record than anything the duo have released before. Their alt-rock tracks about inequality will speak to a wider audience but the band never soften their edges or pull their punches in a bid for accessibility.

The Curse Of Love is a neat record, filled with the mystic folk and lithe psychedelia that made them so refreshing back in the day.

'Because Of The Times' cements Kings Of Leon as one of the great American bands of our times.

The Chats don’t so slow songs. They don’t do sad songs. The Chats do good times and this debut is set to inspire plenty.

The tunes--from the devilishly catchy title track to the clattering, anthemic ‘Viva L’Amour’ and the swoonsome, panoramic ‘Tabarly’, complete with romantic mariachi trumpets--are superb.

Park Hye Jin has crafted an affecting multi-layered debut that, rather than reaching a conclusion of fulfilment, manages to find happiness in just being alive.

As with the best of Bright Eyes, there’s a bittersweet meeting of macabre words and folky tunefulness.

Even when English Graffiti sounds like The Vaccines, it’s a kitschier, more colourful, hyper-stylised version.

‘Requiem’ has brought something new to a discography that, until now, has been an exploration of human suffering. It’s led to the band’s most nuanced record to date.

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.

While not teasing her next chapter, in her quest for more, Maidza has crafted a collection of perfectly constructed songs that encapsulate her karmic truth: that living well is the best revenge.

It's a timely refresh of rosy-cheeked indie-pop mores.

This new music sounds fresh, vibrant and effortless.

Drahla’s melodies are gnarled and resist locking together at all costs; warped pop songs emerge out of the gloom. This is a meticulous debut that juggles razor-sharp control with barely contained chaos.

The result is an album that’s spiky, surprising and not quite cohesive, but never ever boring. Tove Lo was always much too interesting to be a slave to the algorithm.

This combination of pop and disco makes Ratchet the perfect summer soundtrack.

Cashback? Pretty close.

There aren’t quite enough classic songs here to render their voice vital, but as long as boring bands exist, this kind of piss and vinegar will always be welcome.

Swiftly recorded in just one day, Warm Slime is an intuitively-conceived, addictively impulsive lesson in peculiarity.

It's bold, brash, trashy fun that will tempt Killers fans to fall in lust all over again. [19 Mar 2005, p.57]

As a whole, it’s winningly Lynchian, and ballsy enough to open with an 11-minute song.

By and large this is as consistent a record as the Foo Fighters have ever made.

Isis’ lewd lines on this debut arrive, then, as the law of diminishing returns for all things brazenly sexy begins to set in.

The album feels genuinely organic, a common ground of moods rather than a forced fusion.

Sweeter than its landfill-conjuring name suggests, Diaper Island supplies the harsh guitar harmonics, reverb and claustrophobic atmosphere VanGaalen does best, but aligns them with some of his prettiest songs.

The Membranes’ first album in 26 years is an extraordinary comeback.

Its mix of clanking rhythms, bleeps and whistles is certainly insistent, although it's the vocal tracks that stick.