This is a proper major work, revealing an artist at ease with himself without resting on his laurels. In short, it is the sound of confidence. A Kind Revolution could well be Paul Weller’s greatest album to date.

Everything here is on point; every single element is executed with a stupefying mastery. Soaring strings, luxurious French horn, jangled distortion and purgative, unhinged vocals; all these things fuse together with glorious consequences. Utterly exceptional.

Her finest album to date and one to live with and cherish; that explains the name then.

Ridiculous and ridiculously thrilling, Super Natural reasserts Jones’ mission with riotous fervour.

With Morningside Murray has delivered on the promise of her early singles, creating an album that’ll be much-loved.

They don’t stretch their formula, but there’s little need when their galvanic velocity is this purposeful.

Particularly breathtaking are rafter-raising renditions of 99 And A Half Won’t Do, Out Of The Wilderness, Glory Glory Hallelujah and Move Upstairs, though everything is really ace here.

As long-time residents, the pair are understandably incensed and concerned over recent developments in the US, along with their city’s ongoing corporate makeover, translating their rage into a seething Xtrmntr for modern times that is undoubtedly their best, most relevant work to date yet.

You’re Welcome ups his game, injecting infectious doses of glam-punk muscle, melody and engagement into Wavves’ trademark surf-punk melees.

His voice remains distinctive though, and like all his records, Goths is worth hearing.

Sometimes chilly, this set has occasional echoes of Vince’s former bandmates Depeche Mode and this largely successful, surprise direction so late in their career is certainly welcome.

Throughout, G straddles clarity and complexity with deceptive ease.

While not as refreshing as the previous album, it still feels on occasion as if multiple pop crossovers could theoretically beckon, especially the songs fronted by guest vocalists, including Molly Schnick of early 90s riot grrrls Raooul.

Veteran Rolling Stones drummer, Charlie Watts sounds completely at home on Meets The Danish Radio Big Band.

Sadly, outside the context of the episodes, the actual ditties are only mildly humorous at best, and barely warrant more than one play through.

Baby Blue Abyss is a shape-changing beast. Styles vary, the approach is schizophrenic, but still the core of Baird and his scattershot mood remains.

[Trombone Shorty's] allusive, crossover style is a piquant marinade that blends Crescent City jazz with blues, pop, funk, R&B, hip-hop, and rock flavours.

Along with the melodic, melancholic vocal mumblings and minimalist drum beats, the overall atmosphere is that of a hazy, underwater dream.

He delivers 10 killer tracks which, defined by horns, organ and a defying-the-years-vocal-hit from Bryant, span the spirited How Do I Get There? and commanding One Ain’t Enough to the compelling A Nickel And A Nail and swooning Something About You.

Amid all the proto-ambient wash is much soul and even funk, albeit of a lo-fi variety.

As you’d expect, plucking the most successful songs from their respective albums and reconfiguring them has both an impressive cumulative effect and sets them in a new context. But fans will have all of this music already. The real interest comes with what else is in the package.

Showcasing her delicate vocals over a smorgasbord of kosmic soundz, it’s a surprisingly coherent affair.

There’s no denying that he’s operating in a vastly oversubscribed field, but Rosewood Almanac delivers in an economical 34 minutes as vividly and as seductively as any other 21st century confessional singer-songwriter you care to mention.

Greg Dulli’s vocals grow only more aching with age as he transitions from cocky young buck to greying Don Juan. There are jagged riffs and funky organs aplenty; the latter a welcome call-back to last year’s reissue of 1996’s sumptuous Black Love. Yet there’s a fresh emphasis on lush, elegantly experimental arrangements with much snazzy brass and graceful orchestration on show.

Halo is the sound of a mischievous, philosophical soul in full swing. An idiosyncratic joy.

It’s a heartfelt, human and inspired way of celebrating Haggard’s work.

A series of Eloe Omoe’s vein-poppingly furious bass clarinet solos follows before a period containing some of Ra’s most unhinged moog playing. June Tyson is given the responsibility of playing interstellar pied piper before a six-minute stretch of keyboard bleeps and whirrs that sonically alternate between an arcade game racing car, space ship and vacuum cleaner. A tough act to follow and in truth the rest of this collection suffers in comparison.

While the terrific albums they’ve released along the way have continued to describe that lo-fi fuzz and keyboard driven journey, in reaching this album’s sunshine warmth ‘Ripley’ Johnson and Sanae Yamada have elevated their project to a new level.