Such is the band’s melodic power the sensation is like slipping into a warm bath rather than eavesdropping by the psychiatrist’s chair.

Just odd enough to escape period-piece pastiche, their deft weaving of different eras and styles makes them akin to a UK version of White Denim, and promises more exciting things from the future.

This is the sound of progress.

It’s nothing you won’t have heard before--the clue, after all, is right there in the title--but hearing it done as well as this is rare indeed.

The quintet are a crack unit, powered by hard rock riffs, jazz and Krautrock-informed drums and flights of flute-based fancy.

For young fans just now learning the joys of heavy rock – perhaps lured in by the appearance of this band’s 1986 classic ‘Master of Puppets’ on Netflix megahit Stranger Things last year – this new record will be a fitting gateway drug. For everyone else there’s simply the reassuring thrill that, after so many decades on stage, Metallica are still capable of delivering sharp, spiky metal – and sticking it where the sun doesn’t shine.

The album allows acoustic guitar to be the rule more than the exception. And the sublime melodies on 'Never Day' and 'Honest James' shine. Naturally, you can't take the boy out of art-school.

11 years into their career, SFA have produced some of their most beautiful songs yet.

Though ‘Send A Prayer My Way’ doesn’t always grip you with the immediacy of either Baker or Scott’s respective solo careers, it’s still refreshing to hear two very well-established songwriters exploring such distinct new territory together.

The important thing is, the tried-and-tested and the "new" mix fairly well.

With their crashing guitar riffs and vague, faux-poetic proclamations, Lost Under Heaven sound more like Imagine Dragons with a Goldsmiths degree.

While previous album ‘Truth Is A Beautiful Thing’ was a sombre affair, a new energy saturates ‘Californian Soil’. Fizzing with club sounds and filled with bright lyricism, London Grammar are more confident, and more fun, than they’ve ever been.

‘Pompeii // Utility’ is undeniably a long listen, and it occasionally buckles under the weight of its own ambition. But within that excess lies its purpose: a restless, evolving portrait of MIKE and Earl Sweatshirt at a point where convergence feels less like a destination and more like an ongoing process.

It's far from their best work, yet from the fuzzy lollop of the title track to the reverb-drenched "Pendleton," it reaffirms that not only are Buffalo Tom one of America's great lost bands, but that real estate's loss is rock'n'roll's gain.

He and the four gents in his Revue are here to remind you there's nothing more thrilling than the primal howl of proto-rock'n'roll, and this, their third album, is their most convincing sermon yet.

The hangover may be setting in, but DZ Deathrays have found new ways to party.

At 16 tracks, 11:11 is definitely a little long, but there’s no denying that Maluma creates a mood that suits his persona every bit as effectively as Drake does. Stylish, sexy and right-on-trend, this album should generate some heat from Bogotá to Bognor.

On her second album, Kiesza has defied the odds and made a solid comeback to the pop world. ‘Crave’ is a very promising – and very fun – hint at even bigger and better things to come.

By marrying their fun-lovin’ musicality with songs that stand up to injustices, Dream Nails rollicking debut will rattle around your head for days on end – for more reason than one.

This is an album that thrills in furious energy, but maintains a balance between light and shade via a deep understanding of dynamics.

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.

Heartfelt, human electronica that pulses with a folksy emotion thanks to Meath’s beautifully warm vocals, the duo’s debut LP is a summer essential.

A debut brimming with bile.

This is an album that shimmers with warmth and cautious optimism from start to finish.

The Last Shadow Puppets is an awesome achievement--a modern reinvigoration of an archaic, dead musical language.

This Chicago MC keeps high-concept gibberish to a minimum, packing his second album with rhymes about robots and skateboards that nonetheless roll with the sort of swagger which leaves other brainbox rappers red-faced and grasping for their inhalers.

The Divine Comedy are much more appealing in their vulnerability than they ever were in full cry.

There's light, shade and careful nuance throughout.