But, bar the turgid swamp blues of ‘Be Careful What You Wish For’, it’s Noel’s freewheeling solo freedom and return-to-mega-form song-writing that makes this amongst the albums of the year.

He keeps growing musically, challenging what drill music can be. On ‘Noughty By Nature’, he confirms he’s a genre juggernaut, but in wearing his heart a little more on his sleeve, he’s also evolving right in front of us.

Combines her strengths with her evergreen knack of embracing the moment into a collection that exudes maturity and class.

An album full of big ideas, strong conviction and unguarded emotion, it’s more than worth the wait.

The result is a rock-solid collection of bops that gives McRae space to grow in the future. She’s great at sultry and self-confident moments, but ‘So Close To What’ proves she has other shades in her colour palette.

In an album full of surprises, though, it’s the last track that will catch most listeners unawares: a cover of My Bloody Valentine’s ‘Sometimes’. The shoegaze original buried its words underneath abundant layers of guitars, but from SPELLLING, lines like “You can’t hide from the way I feel” resound with a limitless echo.

The abrasion and urgency of their sound remains, but magnified, as they explore new territory.

A stern but playful combination of caustic menace and bright hooks.

The second album from this perky Philadelphia quartet delivers big on drama and emotion with Frances Quinlan’s voice taking turns between an abrasive snarl and a smooth croon.

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.

If ‘This Is Happening’ must be a parting shot from this smartest and most human of dance machines, it’s a fine one. Though by LCD’s own standards this takes second place to ‘Sound Of Silver’’s unquestionable gold medal, by any other current band’s measure this is an all-out classic.

Gloss Drop is powered by a tireless, ingenious sense of play. Admittedly, it is sometimes the sort of playfulness displayed by quantum physicists and pure mathematicians. But hey, get the numbers right and everything else just slots into place.

Although the record is vivid, striking and thought-provoking – with nearly every song on this album a deep, pensive sonic sulk – the south Londoner’s voice is beginning to slip further away from a generation he intended to represent: one that’s done overthinking and just wanting to feel.

It’s a record that – while injected with a healthy dose of groovy fun – is keenly honest. And although it may be sonically sugar-coated, Wolf’s candid lyrics never are. It’s funk-fuelled catharsis.

A debut offering of preposterously ace swoon-pop. [6 Aug 2005, p.56]

‘Shlon’ allows Souleyman to lift the curtain into his culture, showing his artistry and why exactly he’s one of the most sought-after producers in the world. To pigeonhole him as a wedding singer is reductive.

Produced by Boyz Noize, this is the sound of a rook shuffling with a maverick king, full of harpsichords and pianos and sexy European beats; it will arouse the mind and stimulate interesting positions.

Admittedly, many of the techniques Skrillex uses in his transitions haven’t aged well. There are only so many sped-up snares and risers you can listen to without thinking of that one Lonely Island sketch (or this hilarious Soundcloud mix). But the drops are so worth it – and in a post-hyperpop world, it’s even more impressive that they still manage to make so much impact, like on the long-awaited ‘Voltage’, or the grinding halftime banger ‘San Diego VIP’.

No Geography is another leap forward for the pair--it embraces new avenues of discovery and nods to the wider world, while having the feel of a victory lap and retrospective.

It's a substantial and rewarding work.

It may have taken six years, but ‘Dopamine’ sounds like the (damn) album Normani was meant to make all long.

If you want it to be, it's brilliant. It's also a record so ambitious, so angry, and so mad-as-a-goose that there are otherwise intelligent people who will hear it once and straight away deem it an interminable racket. [30 Apr 2005, p.61]

There’s impressive variety contained within ‘Dead Dads Club’ too. ‘Volatile Child’’s direct indie hooks throw back to the melodic smarts of early-Strokes; ‘Junkyard Radiator’ arrives woozy and disoriented in a drug-addled, psych-tinged haze, while ‘Need You So Bad’ rings with a gentle kind of euphoria.

Her wildcard authenticity and fiery free spirit is the reason all eyes are on her now.

Anne-Marie’s bold personality is finally given a chance to shine on a no-nonsense album that’s overflowing with chart-busting tunes and real world attitude.

It works in the same way that Doves' 'Lost Souls' did; that is, by inviting us to bed down in its sumptuously familiar lyrical folds while offering us a warm mug of Something A Bit Different.

Loud, weighty but oddly civilised.

Across the whole record, there's a kind of galactic atmosphere that gives everything an spacey edge.