The Big Roar is the kind of epic-yet-intimate debut that does exactly what its title makes out in the most tactful of styles; an LP that ultimately delivers on every count on the four years of promise leading up to it.

War On Drugs engineer Nicolas Vernhes smoothes restrained standouts ‘Don’t Ask Me Why’ and ‘Room’ into two of Kalevi’s best songs yet, but the whole thing bathes in glorious groove.

It's all rather one-paced and sags badly after tenth track 'Lick Up Ya Foot' but, by crikey, the likes of 'Big Tings Redone' and 'Dutty Rut' provide the perfect soundtrack for out-on-the-stoop sunshine boozing.

Silver Tongues picks up exactly where they left off: back on top as one of Britain’s most thrilling rising bands.

The demo vocals she’d already recorded are pretty much album-ready, their slightly unpolished edge even helping throw back to the band’s 1992 debut album ‘Everybody Else Is Doing It, So Why Can’t We?’, home to the immaculate-if-overplayed ‘Linger’. It’s rare indeed that a farewell brings a career so neatly full-circle.

With ‘Intruder’, he’s chiming with the times – and sounding thrillingly relevant in the process.

‘Requiem’ has brought something new to a discography that, until now, has been an exploration of human suffering. It’s led to the band’s most nuanced record to date.

Growing Pains finds Blige on chirpier form.

Squired by The xx producer Rodaidh McDonald, this second album is hugely accomplished.

Even though Gliss Riffer comes with no added extras it still creaks under the weight of its experiments.

‘Typhoons’ is not only their best work to date, but all the better for Royal Blood being free to explore what they’re capable of.

The result is an album that’s spiky, surprising and not quite cohesive, but never ever boring. Tove Lo was always much too interesting to be a slave to the algorithm.

The moments of dark introspection still linger in the album's secluded corners, but overall, 'A Brighter Beat' is exactly that.

‘SUGAREGG’ is confident and assured.

It’s unlikely to gain any new converts to the cause, but you get the impression Hitchcock stopped caring about that sort of thing long ago.

Like Johnny Cash jamming with Holly Golightly, Little Amber Bottles is the grizzled embodiment of everything that's brilliant about sleazy, Deep South rock'n'roll.

It’s honest, personal and wholly relatable. Rostam may have defined Vampire Weekend’s sound, but with Half-Light he begins to define himself.

Recorded with Vår’s Loke Rahbek on synth and Malthe Fischer, ex-Oh No Ono, on guitar and production, these 10 electro-pop songs truly glisten.

Now well into her stride as a solo artist, with ‘Black Girl Magic’ Dijon has produced another collection of standout, all-inclusive house classics that’ll dominate dancefloors for years to come.

If 'Let's Get Out Of This Country' was a person, you would want to hug it until its big doe-eyes popped out. [10 Jun 2006, p.41]

Far from experiencing growing pains, Car Seat seem to have had a lot of fun here.

While there’s a comforting familiarity that comes with all things Suede, it’s wonderfully shrouded on The Blue Hour by a very new, romantic and alluring strangeness. These are not hits to shake your bits to. Nor will these beats shake your meat. Rest assured, Suede remain the beautiful ones, but are just looking for beauty in ever more curious places.

I Never Learn is an album about love, but not a record to love.

While Food may be more home-cooked comforts than Blumenthal experimentation, at its best it’s a fulfilling portion.

There are a few early misfires here, but they are rescued by a stunning second half on which Beck’s trademark sound is stripped back and drenched in a glistening synth-filled air that takes him into a daring new era.

Dense, detailed and idiosyncratic, Redemption doesn’t slot in neatly next to the tropical beats and minimal pop hits that are currently dominating the charts. But there will always be a place for music as rich as this that dares to be a little different.

An album both beautiful and challenging.

Their sixth album is also as pretentious as you would expect a record named after a novel by Austrian feminist author Elfriede Jelinek to be.