Ultimately, it’s confusion that remains at the end of Amnesty (I). Crystal Castles always were an uncomfortable band, but the bumpy conception of this album and the awkward introduction of new ideas dampen even its most teeth-chattering moments.

The overall effect is less like an album and more like a digitally created scrapbook--a dreamy, transportive audio roadtrip through fuzzy urban noise and peaceful rural serenity.

It’s Factory Floor’s second album and it’s their best.

Mangy Love would succeed even without lyrics. Produced leisurely with Rob Schnapf (Elliott Smith) and Dan Horne and featuring 21 extra musicians, this is McCombs’ richest ever recording. Sublime flourishes abound.

The occasional leaden production job remains the album’s main stumbling block. But if Giggs is unlikely to follow Stormzy into the mainstream, it’s hard to deny this record’s bleak intensity or lyrical command.

A Weird Exits should prove a solid fan-satisfier or entry point for newbies.

Ultimately, Blossoms leap from their chart-bound Trojan horse as modernist rock heroes.

Nao’s real flair, though, lies in embracing the old school and making it seem fresh. ‘Get To Know Ya’ and ‘DYWM’ both re-rub late ’80s soul and push it firmly into 2016 with crisp production and an effortless dancefloor feeling. More proof, if it were needed, that Nao--and her odd but addictive vocal--belongs up front.

Despite its dips, there are plenty of strong reasons here to keep Dinosaur Jr from extinction.

So alongside the creeping softness of ‘Dreamliner’--which is full of Alt-J-worthy waves of sensual electronica--we get the biggest noises the band have made to date.

If it was all such axe-grinding, Disaster Piece might flag--but it has vision too.

Viola Beach is an album that, against all odds, leaves you with a smile on your face.

The tunes he’s releasing are fresh and exciting.

This is a frequently dazzling piece of work from one of hip-hop’s most ambitious and imaginative stylists.

Kiwanuka has brought in the production heft of Danger Mouse, as well as up-and-comer Inflo, to seriously up the ante.

The album’s bittersweet introspection is complemented by samples of audio recorded by her and her documentary-maker dad.

The whole feel of the album is fun, shackle-free, uninhibited, but still masterfully crafted. In fact, by opening themselves up Biffy Clyro have captured the spirit of a brand-new band again.

Cheetah isn’t bad, but it could be the work of lesser producer.

The result is a record that’s as fun as it is furious, and as confrontational as it is cool.

There are far too many children’s voices, snatches of birdsong, glissandi of saccharine strings, and always the half-heard, half-sensed thwack of Frisbee upon social media manager.

With Freetown Sound, he’s made something bold, challenging, uncompromising and overlong--an album, like the man who made it, that’s the sum of its parts and then some.

Khan refuses to yield crossover hits like 2009’s ‘Daniel’ (only the frenetic rhythms of ‘Sunday Love’ come close) opting instead for a slow style of storytelling that rewards the patient listener.

Downsides? There really aren’t any. Mount has done it again. He could write music about the impact of Brexit on the UK’s trade with China and make it sound amazing.

California is too long, but has the humour, pace, emotion and huge choruses of a classic Blink record. Mission accomplished.

Produced by the band, with help from Pink and former member of Test Icicles Sam Mehran, its follow-up is cleaner and more conventional. But there’s a tease of their old sound before the murk lifts completely.

When the disparate influences mesh properly--as on the irresistible ‘Fool You’ve Landed’--they find a very happy medium.

The Mountain Will Fall sounds, at best, like a decent mixtape made by someone with pretty good taste. Thing is, you can probably make one of those yourself.

Exploration of I, Gemini reveals its quirks are knitted together with extreme smoothness.