The result is a maelstrom of noise, both ominous and ecstatic, doomy minor chords and cloud-parting major riffs.

An astoundingly honest, and at times brutal, listen, ‘PREY//IV’ still ends on a note of hope.

And yet for all the disparate elements, we haven't heard a record all year so secure in its own vision, or a collection of songs that sound so much like they need to be together. The only downside of this is it kind of smothers the potential for standout Oh. My. God. moments.

The band have covered all bases this time; pushing themselves to experiment while still celebrating what makes their music so catchy and compelling.

The darkness that gripped Stevens during his last outing seems to be still tugging at his heels. But compelling as those moments are, more fun are the tracks where he puts his expansive imagination to use and lets go a little.

The band’s most musically ambitious and diverse record yet.

Ultimately this record lacks the genuinely interesting shifts that have punctuated Swift’s career so far, from the lyrical excellence on her superior breakup album ‘Red’ to ‘1989’’s pivot to high-octane pop.

They're songs infused with bite and bile, quite ridiculous, very bombastic - and let's make this point one more time - utterly, utterly thrilling.

It’s a bit nuts, but the ominous, shimmering psychedelia of standout tracks ‘Three Frendz’ and ‘Angel Of The North’ elevate the album beyond a quirky, Watership Down-esque curiosity.

With Here, it feels as though she’s dug deep to produce a set of genuine, heartfelt and relevant anthems.

It's one drawn-out primal scream that goes from dark and broody to blissed-out drone. [11 Mar 2006, p.43]

Recall[s] dance music's pre-superclub adventures in electronica and bleepy house. [19 Mar 2005, p.59]

Adhering closely to the template of Daft Punk’s two seminal live albums, crowd noise is mixed high, becoming another instrument as it responds to every hook with a spine-tingling roar.

What lies beneath is frequently glorious, especially in the second half, where rolling, Afrobeat-infused rhythms underpin their best work.

Overlong at almost an hour but, largely, as pretty and organic as crystal.

After living with it for a while, you’ll come to appreciate ‘EYEYE’ as a record that breathes, sighs and will leave you lost in the same dazed revery that these tracks were born from.

A similar slide into the mainstream for Jim James and co certainly wouldn't be out of the question – not least because Circuital, despite stiff competition, is possibly their most impressive work to date.

The crepuscular glow of this quartet should be embraced.

As an instrumental score, fans may miss the clever kitchen sink turns of phrase that have populated Field Music lyrics since 2005’s self-titled debut, but Music For Drifters breaks down the band’s distinctive sound to its raw DNA.

A dazzling follow up to ‘Apricot Princess’, Rex Orange County’s third studio album is a total delight.

With bursts of martial snare and brass held together by a minimalist, bass-powered spine, it's reminiscent of The Neptunes' spare genius and feels like off-the-peg future pop.

An intensely personal record, the process of listening to the dozen tracks here is as intimate--and sometimes as uncomfortable--as reading pages ripped straight from Frank's diary.

The multi-talented musician’s downfall is sometimes that he wraps melodies in so many layers that it barely has a chance to breathe. ... Whatever the flaws in some elements of ‘Changephobia’, Rostam can be proud of creating an album that showcases his talent as a producer and is truly unique.

The Sun Kil Moon frontman may revel in the role of indie-rock’s great white grinch, but as Sings Christmas Carols proves, he’s no more immune to the spirit of the season than his furry green counterpart was.

Cottrill is a master at penning lyrics that make you feel like you’re listening to hushed secrets from a friend, but she also has a knack for crafting melodies and rhythms that make you really feel what she’s going through in any given song.

I’m Going Away sees The Fiery Furnaces abandon their surrealist tendencies to work outside their comfort zone, experimenting with structure and euphony to reassert their status as our most vital musical siblings.

Sam Beam's fifth album sees him taking further, grander steps in the shiny loafers of a cheesy 1970s crooner with a fondness for symphonic folk and a soul groove.

They’re still doing it better than anyone else; ravier than Foals, more fun than Fuck Buttons, flexing more post-hardcore muscle than Metronomy. It’s just that we kind of hoped they might surprise us again. That said, if they’re not pushing any new envelopes, Come Down With Me is still satisfying on its own terms.