Good news for OutKast fans, basically, although the pair’s debut works best when it’s playing it weird.

The music shambles between arid Americana and early Strokes pep, but ultimately it’s Chapman’s grizzled longing that enchants.

The Wellington five-piece’s sixth album is a fabulous meld of power-pop, electronica and US West Coast harmony that swings through techno-country on 'Prawn', and even dabbles in soulful house on 'Celestial Bodies'.

She might be lacking an obvious crossover hit, but you get the sense that those will arrive sooner rather than later; in the meantime, Georgia has something far more valuable: bleeding-edge vitality.

At times, you want more rage. Other times, more clarity. You can’t doubt Public Enemy’s resolve. But on Man Plans God Laughs, music and message remain a notch out of synch.

Only the plodding ballad ‘Hurt Yourself’ fails to earn its place on the track list, and on the whole Death Magic makes a grander statement than its more rudimentary predecessors. It sounds like Health finally know what they want.

Every album is a chapter in Frank’s on-going aural autobiography, and Positive Songs is his Getting Over It dispatch.

Less, in this case, is definitely more: The Beyond is his best work to date.

Simplicity means the record occasionally feels samey, but it seems mean to criticise something that feels so pure.

A few indulgences like an ‘Auld Lang Syne’ singalong are the main gripes to dampen an otherwise monumental presence.

Gemma and Sophie Bakerwood and Louise Croft exploring electronica, with deep synth tones, crunching glitch and, on ‘Divided By Surfaces And Silence’ and ‘Skip To The End’, flickers of drum ‘n’ bass. Wordless, sighing vocals grace the semi-acoustic techno of ‘Hearts Not Parts’, the trio’s voices rushing through the gaps in the instrumental wash.

Needless to say, this is 45 minutes of Satanism, anti-capitalism, rebel protest, warfare and gore in which every form of sludge/speed/death/pop/goth/punk/armadillo metal is flung onto an increasingly gooey and formless pile, like a torture chamber’s heap of discarded body parts.

To be able to write with universality is the mark of a songwriter’s ambition growing, and here Mac DeMarco is transitioning into one of the best around.

It’s a beautifully crafted album, with Orlando’s lyrics their strongest ever.

Colourful and unconventional throughout, Knockin’ Boots keeps Julio Bashmore’s reputation for bangers firmly intact.

Momentary Masters is his most satisfying, cohesive record yet, and, in many ways, his most personal.

Bahdeni Nami isn’t a bad record, exactly, but it’s not quite the best place to crack into Souleyman’s catalogue (which, if you believe estimates, stretches to a mindboggling 500 recordings).

They build a monumental wall of hardcore noise on 'Egophillia', before taking a wrecking ball to it and screaming wildly into the mess. Elsewhere, there are tight grooves on ‘Disdain’ and ‘Terrible’, and the guttural riffs on 'Starved For’ offer plenty for bleeding gums to gnaw on.

Free Weezy Album is one of those records you sift through for flashes of greatness, rather than sit back and let it wash over you.

The sound of a legend raging in style.

St Catherine’s surface may be polished to perfection, but much of what’s underneath feels hollow.

There's undoubtedly something there with Frankie--those effortless, skippy choruses aren't as easy to do as they seem. But he and his Heartstrings haven't quite found their true north yet.

Simple, unruly and riotously fun.

It may be titled From Kinshasa, but this record could easily be from the future.

The purely audio side collected on this debut album is artfully coiled Vampire Weekend world pop.

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.

MS MR might lack some of the extrovert star quality of the acts Plapinger usually signs, but 'How Does It Feel' is an emotional ride that shows she has plenty of her own worth sharing.

Born In The Echoes is a bold reinvention of the Chemical Brothers’ sound, pushing the late-period renaissance that 'Further' heralded to somewhere dark and twisted.