‘Feed The Beast’ is a tremendously entertaining showcase for a pop star who can go deep when she wants to, but is also smart enough to understand the visceral thrill of dumb escapism.

‘3AM (LA LA LA)’, their most assured collection yet, proves they definitely have the tunes to match their outsized personas.

On this mini-album, Templeman’s far-flung influences are brought together more fluently than before. And more importantly, he appears in the throws of continual creative reinventions; he has every reason to be feeling pretty confident with himself.

He expertly delivers gang stories with such authenticity that no wonder he’s still loved in his hometown. With ‘Vince Staples’ Kenny Beats has helped Long Beach’s finest release another spectacular record – even if it’s a slow-burn.

Murphy’s music remains grounded in Hercules & Love Affair-style housey electronica but these songs unfurl slowly and unconventionally as they take detours into skulking Grace Jones funk ('Uninvited Guest’), opulent cosmic disco (‘Evil Eyes’) and lush country balladry ('Unputdownable').

She might be lacking an obvious crossover hit, but you get the sense that those will arrive sooner rather than later; in the meantime, Georgia has something far more valuable: bleeding-edge vitality.

Harcourt might err too far towards gentle whimsy for rock fundamentalists, but otherwise 'From Every Sphere' is a rich treasure trove of sun-kissed grace and summery magic.

Fifth time round, they're proving there's still plenty of value in their elegantly downtrodden aesthetic.

Shinier and poppier than anything Speedy Ortiz have done, Slugger is Dupuis’ attempt at putting politics into pop. The results are a thrilling and fizzing triumph.

‘Joy’All’ proves that she’s maturing into one of pop’s foremost storytellers.

Though this is not Bon Iver’s answer to ‘Brat’ summer by any stretch of the imagination, many of these same existential questions also linger on ‘SABLE, fABLE’ – a record that grapples with his own identity as much as it does the twists and turns of life. Though some fans feared this might well be an epilogue to the Bon Iver project, it comes across as more of a rebirth.

Matching Murphy’s career-best lyrics are some of the rest of the band’s most eclectic compositions.

Their most complete, most important album yet. Ferocious, thrilling and unrelentingly heavy, it’s an emphatic reminder of who Cancer Bats really are.

TSOOL have made a double album that isn’t a burden, but rather something which is genuinely fun to get lost inside and attempt to unravel.

Resplendent with Beam’s raw, whispered tones and snatched memories wrapped in the warmth and emotional calamity Iron And Wine are known for, it’s vintage stuff.

Something about them is essentially alien--yet, very probably, that is the source of their strange, uncanny power.

By giving a wide berth to the safety of the post-rock label they've long despised, Mogwai have recorded some of their finest songs since "Mr Beast."

Ultimately, ‘Kid Amnesiae’ not only offers a mood piece, but also a companion and secret history behind the making of two essential, landmark records – and the rebirth of a great band.

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

A sparkly, concise art-rock delight. [10 Jul 2004, p.47]

It's a bit like The Slits at Notting Hill Carnival. Add in lush single "Why Have We To Wait" (a cover of a track by '60s pop group The Pussycats) and it's pretty perfect.

This is an album with much to love about it, but it falls just short of their real game-changer, West Ryder.

‘No Lube So Rude’ might be Peaches’ slickest work yet.

Dean may have not shed all of her growing pains, but ‘Messy’ ultimately does everything a debut should, uniting multiple stories with a clear, radiant voice.

We say: just give in, it'll be the best vomit of your life. [20 Jan 2007, p.29]

Castle is not just cohesive--it feels like it’s been made to be consumed as one whole body of work. Each song segues into the next, giving barely a second to pause or hit shuffle.

If ‘Dust’ was Halo’s sprawling, lush, wildly diverse ‘Life of Pablo’, then the sparse, introverted ‘Raw Silk Uncut Wood’ is her ‘ye’, the sound of an artist regrouping to test new boundaries before she forges ahead once again.

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