GBV fans should definitely check this one out – there's a lot to like.

It requires a certain level of self-denial to hate Fall Out Boy, as in, "No, I don't like huge hooks, soaring choruses or wild-eyed expressions of youthful ambition." If so, congratulations, you're 800 years old. Or a Joanna Newsom fan.

Brilliantly catchy.

Y Dydd Olaf’s beautifully layered sounds and rhythms convey a tightly conceived sonic world full of endless ideas, even if you can’t understand the lyrics.

It has some of the year’s best country songs, plus a groove-heavy take on the Bee Gees’ classic To Love Somebody.

As its cover and length (the usual eight songs) suggest, Near To The Wild Heart Of Life is unquestionably a Japandroids album. Some may yearn for more of Celebration Rock’s high voltage, but by changing gears they’ve added more depth and variation to those shout-along choruses we love so much.

The disc has plenty of amped-up, distortion-filled moments (Ride, The Easy Way), but the band throws in more than few twangy, laid-back tracks (She Loves The Sunset, The Beautiful Thing). Infectious tunes and, most important, variety, make this another great disc in the band’s solid career.

Unless you’re only listening for Bejar, Whiteout Conditions should not only satisfy but also open your mind to just how versatile the New Pornographers can be.

The melodies sound effortless, but there’s complexity under the surface.

It feels like a bunch of friends jamming on a farm, even if there are still a few electronica elements here and there.

The less experimental C'mon is confident and warm, suggesting that the band let the reverberant setting dictate the tone.

Without a fluke hit single or prime placement in a big-budget Hollywood film, the Heavy’s disc, which easily outclasses The Odd Couple fiasco, may fall between the cracks, but that Swaby character has serious potential.

There’s a sense of playfulness on I Don’t Wanna Die (In The Hospital) and NYC – Gone, Gone that’s missing from Cassadaga, and enough catchiness to keep radio stations happy (even if said track happens to be an ominous ode to a dying boy), but it’s on the achingly simplest of songs where Oberst’s familiar splenetic growl returns at last.

At first, the complete lack of restraint and overflowing musical ideas make Busting Visions feel a bit like an unfocused mess, but once you get familiar with it, it seems absurd to complain that they've crammed a dozen golden hooks into every single song.

Banjo, flugelhorn, tuba, cajón, accordion and tablas all prop up Stephin Merritt’s distinctive bass and dry-humoured lyrics, which, fans will be glad to know, remain in top form.

Stelmanis brings a more musical sensibility to the formula, even if it's still miles away from mainstream pop.

There’s a constant push and pull between the sometimes ridiculous aspects of classic hard rock and his more serious artistic and political concerns, and while it’s often unclear when he’s joking, that tension is exactly what makes it all work.

It's the kind of warm summer record you put on without much thought, and that's a large part of its charm.

Their third full-length is an 11-song collection of sincere, shimmering pop songs with golden hooks and unexpected hits of razor-sharp effects.

It's more exciting than most everything made by glitch gurus on their laptops today.

While the tone keeps the wistful summer vibes of his earlier work intact, the Brooklyn-based Canadian also gets reflective on this dud-free second full-length.

Diarrhea Planet have always aimed for the rafters, but on Turn To Gold they crash through them.

The achievement here is that each song feels like its own distinct world.

Instead of imitating the manipulated loops of funk drummers that defined earlier rap, they make references to the more robotic feel of contemporary drum machine beats, which, combined with their nods to indie rock, puts them in a category all their own.

The Richmond, Virginia, metal five-piece churn out their most extreme record in a long time.

Somewhat self-indulgent, it's remarkably listenable considering some of the "instruments" used.

Starter Home is country music for intellectuals, but he still hits those classic country tropes: longing in Waiting and alcohol as a cure for regret in Drinking With A Friend. His voice is velvety and smooth with texture, vital for a mature sound.

Beautifully spooky.