A whiff of unoriginality aside, what this EP offers Parquet Courts addicts is fresh meat to chew on, signs of innovation and further evidence that these New Yorkers are one of the world’s most essential new bands.

Strange Creatures is an audacious and gratifying return that makes you want to envelope yourself in its gloom.

This time there’s a more untamed fierceness in Apple’s voice, as she relays tales of feminism, abusive partners, the sacrifices of love and the dinner parties she won’t be quiet at. Unrefined sounds recorded in her LA home make for a visceral listening experience.

The Messenger isn’t just a summary of everything worthwhile in contemporary rock music, it’s an insightful and informed dissection of life in 2013 and all the futile iOS updates, cyberstalking conglomerates and financial travesties that clog up the spaces between us. In a world claiming to connect us all, it argues, we’re getting more and more dislocated.

‘Asphalt Meadows’ is as assured and stately as you’d expect and hope for from indie veterans now 10 albums and 25 years into their career, but this beaut is as consistent and satisfying as their early-mid ‘00s career peak.

A classic, if often over-familiar Cribs album then, but the door is open for the forthcoming Steve Albini-produced ‘punk one’ to be the death-or-glory game-changer.

Despite its brevity, ‘American Noir’ still feels like a truly significant entry in Creeper’s discography. These songs sound truly timeless, exist outside of trend and genre and are instantly recognisable as the work of their creators.

Often, fantastically, all at the same time.

Having already redefined garage last time around, he's conjured up an album equal parts R Kelly, Ali G and Terence Trent D' Arby, which will only send him further into the stratosphere.

A record that features some of the band’s most vital and impressive tracks in years.

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.

‘Never Let Me Go’ is a true renaissance record. It’s no ‘Metal Machine Music’ or ‘Yeezus’, but a record that finds Placebo inspired and ready for a new era, reinventing the rock veterans for the modern age.

Sonically, ‘Critical Thinking’ has touches of the European modernist propulsion of 2014 renaissance record ‘Futurology’ and the graceful ABBA pop flourishes of 2021 predecessor ‘The Ultra Vivid Lament’. But its uplifting warmth met with provocative spikiness feels like an album written staring up at the posters of their teenage art-pop and indie heroes – meant for the crackle of a record or the buzz of a cassette.

Like their forebears, these LA beardies get the plaudits for taking raw, honest emotions and richly infusing them into every moment of their music.

Blending philosophy and science with the bloodied, bruised heart of someone who cares about their fellow man, ‘Nothing is True’ offers comfort, reason, familiarity and forward-thinking to give us the soundtrack we need for now.

Simple but sensational.

The way they've leapfrogged their contemporaries in terms of ambition and scope is terrifying. Sleigh Bells are, once again, in a league of their own.

Putting the fun in grunge since 1988, Mudhoney drink from the familiar well of Iggy on their ninth album with outrageously enjoyable results.

There are some total gems on ‘Late Night Feelings’, which are occasionally marred by a handful of sleepy filler tracks. But in general Mark Ronson’s immense talent as both a producer and songwriter shines through. It’s bold, brilliant and genuinely interesting pop music.

As his musical repertoire has expanded from minimalist folk to occasionally playful pop, so has his tolerance for the foibles of the flesh. 'Dongs Of Sevotion', from its silly title to its intermittent flashes of tenderness and humour, is the proof.

When The Bees hit the target, as on domestic-violence lament 'Angryman; and the glacial funk of 'Sweet Like A Champion' the ghosts of everyone from JJ Cale to Hall & Oates to the Stone Roses enter the room.

At just 28 minutes in length, Kasabian’s eighth studio effort is concise, precise and generally focused. This allows a vibrant emotional clarity to bleed through its swaggering fabric, adding up to Kasabian’s strongest album in some years.

‘Ready For The High’ barely sits still for a verse at a time, ducking between buzz-rock, falsetto funk and bits that seem written for the first dance at the marriage of MGMT and Jungle. The rest of the album further delivers: confident funk pop (‘Wildfire’, ‘Worry’) and inventive future disco (‘This Car Drives All By Itself’, ‘People Don’t Change People, Time Does’) are staples, but the palette is wide here, the brushstrokes bold.

Though he could push his sound to be a bit more personal, he’s already armed with a generational voice, an explorative mindset and a singular writing style. Something exciting is bound to emerge from the storm.

If it’s less direct than the trio’s 2018 debut, ‘Stranger Today’, it makes up for it with a quietly adventurous textural approach. This album wears its nuances confidently while executing incremental shifts in tone and pacing with precision and care.

This is a 57-minute flex of every musical muscle in Parker’s body. Crunchy guitars are largely absent, but we’re left with something far more intriguing – a pop record bearing masterful electronic strokes.

Here they’re more melodic, emphasising tone rather than volume. It pays off.

Yet the easy chemistry between everyone on Amok means that more often than not the record is beautiful.