It feels like Lamb Of God are putting their papers in order and gearing up for the next charge over the top, not thinking about winding down at all.

It’s rare that an electronic album manages to tell such a strong story while eliciting so many different emotions. Impressively balancing meditative calmness (‘Time’) with rave euphoria (the guitar-led ‘Running’), ‘Capricorn Sun’ proves that TSHA really is in a league of her own.

‘FOREVERANDEVERNOMORE’ is never quite an album that is completely comforting or despairing. Instead, it explores the vast reaches between the two and uses introspection as a means of finding stability in the chaos.

Fans of ‘Giving the World Away’ might be disappointed to find that she’s retreated, somewhat, from the ambition and sonic diversity of that release. This kind of sound, though, is what Pilbeam does best; she doesn’t just ape her influences, but channels them with nuance and empathy.

At a sprawling 16 tracks and 63 minutes long, the only thing I Am Easy To Find suffers from is its sombre and pensive pace, without the feral release that certain fans of ‘Boxer’ or ‘Alligator’ might long for.

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”.

Part 1, ‘Together’, is a collection of music more soothing than balm. Spatial beauty is the order of the day.

Ariana’s core fanbase are bound to find an instant, sugar-rush of pleasure in this fascinating side-step from an artist who – until now – has made her name by stomping down the traditional pop path.

It's the longer, wilder but more melodically repetitive screes that dominate the album, throwbacks to Spacemen 3's space freakouts that excite sonically but outstay welcomes like a nasal harmonica player.

In truth, the majority of this largely monotonous second outing becomes a one-size-fits-all affair, and you’re left digging around in this hallucinogenic haze for a new high.

A collection of culinary-themed tracks... that Doom handles in his surrealistic, unflappable flow. [18 Dec 2004, p.51]

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

'Insignificance' lays down an awesome challenge to other guitar records - it contains more great ideas than most bands have in their entire career. It's the first unequivocal classic album of the new year.

There are tough, commanding rare grooves, fly spy-thriller tracks, big, daft hip-hop tunes, a brilliant lounge-reggae skank, 'Good Girl Gone Bad', and, in 'The Turnaround', and the 'Apache'-like b-boy break-out, 'Battle Of Bongo Hill', two of the funkiest, party starters you'll hear all year.

The funniest, most refreshing British debut in years.

Kveikur comes as a violent but welcome surprise.

After pouring her darkest moments into ‘Magdalene’, this varied and playful mixtape represents a moment of release, though it remains to be seen whether Barnett will head further into this direction, or enter a new album era recharged.

This fuzzy, muddy record splits the difference between the bubblegum pop-punk of Furman’s earlier albums, such as 2015’s ‘Perpetual Motion People’, and the more unknowable ‘Transangelic Exodus’.

This Athens, Georgia collective have blossomed from winsome indie-pop virgins to frocked-up future pop stars, beaming their febrile college rock through a kaleidoscope of sleazy funk, electronica jitters, and 'Fear Of Music'-style Talking Heads ethno-beat.

The only problem is that at times, it feels like all parties are a little intimidated by each other, stopping just short of going the whole way with the primal force that the best moments prove Womack is still capable of.

Creosote’s first album since doesn’t have quite the same woozy charm, trading the lush and eerie textures for gentler, more traditional ditties, but that doesn’t mean there aren’t still pleasures to be plundered.

At times, they get a bit bogged down in their own experiments – the eight-minute-31-second ‘Volcano’ perhaps overstays its welcome – but, mostly, ‘The New Eve Is Rising’ presents a singular band doing things just right, and completely in their own world.

Following on from a confusing but rewarding double-disc anthology, 'Rifts', in 2009 and the sublime space scapes of 'Returnal' in 2010, 'Replica' is a rallying call for people who don't see synthesisers purely as objects of retro-fetishism, but rather as agents of future creative potential.

Ultimately ‘Flux’ feels like a record about holding clear boundaries, constantly shifting in the face of set expectations, and following your creative gut instead.

With the help of 'Cisco fuzz-pop linchpin Mikael Cronin, they've turned out a collection which displays a fondness for vintage '60s psych and the spooky microdot-pop of Thee Oh Sees.

‘Play Me’ provides a left turn that has no place being this jarring yet pleasurable from any ‘rock’ artist, let alone at 72.

Quarantine is less concerned with the tropes of olde world dance music, more fixated on gloopy post-club ambience.

Throughout this record, 070 Shake paints vivid – and often uncomfortable, or jarring – pictures, and it’s all on her own terms.