The result is a record that cloaks Gengahr’s inherent weirdness in peaceful melodies you’ll want to wallow in for hours.

For all its technicality and viscerality, the album never packs the same emotional punch as 2013’s Arc and some songs--like the glitchy, overlong ‘Warm Healer’--never quite seem to find their own centre of gravity. Still, few records released in 2015 will feel as true to the times as this one.

It’s hard to knock stompers like ‘Roaring Waters’ either, but the vanilla title track and the plodding ‘Hammer & Tongs’, come off as cheesy, even for this lot.

Their classics remain buried in web mixes, but this set captures PC Music’s sublime pop philosophy.

Carnation restores some of the eerie, discombobulated feel of his debut.

At six tracks it’s a slight but solid return.

Owens remains a naturally intuitive pop songwriter, and ultimately Chrissybaby Forever is a fresh slice of Californian good vibrations that arrives just in time for summer.

Fernandez is a warm presence, murmuring his stream-of-consciousness lyrics on mini-masterpieces that promise a sunny future.

When icy guitar turns ‘Pay My Debts’ into one of Van Etten’s darkest songs yet, Van Etten’s wounds feel incredibly raw.

While the guitars are grimier and the drums hit harder, Pins haven’t totally smothered their sound in engine oil.

When two such spiky forms collide you can’t expect everything to click, but FFS is still a wonder of gelling idiosyncrasies.

The record’s barrage of barrelling noise is linked by stuffy interludes of piano (‘Prelude III’) and strings (‘Chandelier Shiver’), meaning the quintet only narrowly avoid coming off as pretentious. But when Eva sings “I held the arrows/I pulled the strings” on calm, clear-headed highlight ‘Opalescent’, the emotional strength at the heart of Rolo Tomassi shines through.

Serene on the surface, but disturbed deep down.

A joyous surge of drums, guitars, wild brass and potent Spanish-English vocals from powerhouse frontwoman Victoria Ruiz.

A beguiling, uplifting listen.

Playground misogyny aside, ALLA is a thrillingly focused follow-up that betrays its anxieties even as it mostly makes do with extolling the virtues of vice.

It’s Bellamy’s job to prise open deeper socio-political dimensions as much as it is to comment on the times, and Muse’s music once more matches his adventurous intrigue.

Generally this is fairly accessible stuff.

They’ve used their major-label debut to rally the troops rather than just jeer at them from the sidelines. Every song here is a call to arms or an affirmative flip of the table.

Less teenage kicks, more teenage contemplation.

This is UK bass music at its best.

This brilliant half-hour of punky Americana is a chance to read the journals of the coolest kids in town.

Overflowing with stately songwriting and lyrical craftsmanship, How Big, How Blue, How Beautiful makes for a restrained but joyful return, and a collection that will last long after Welch’s broken bones are mended.

Less has always been more with Smith, and the success of In Colour lies in his gift for melding together very few elements to create songs that are original, surprising and highly effective.

How refreshing, fun and free it all sounds.

Even when English Graffiti sounds like The Vaccines, it’s a kitschier, more colourful, hyper-stylised version.

Who Me?, then, is a weird, loveable record to file alongside Wauters’ labelmate and touring buddy Mac DeMarco.

Snoop takes a surprising back seat, singing low in the mix and seldom rapping--an odd decision, but it works and when Bush is good, it’s an absolute joy.