With these band versions, Oberst seems more removed, drowned out by unnecessary country embellishments that only dilute the passion and emotion of the originals. That’s not to say these are bad, but they just aren’t quite as heart-stoppingly, heartbreakingly brilliant. Less, as it turns out, can be much more.

If Condition does not herald a radical artistic reincarnation, it does involve a subtler devolution into a slightly more primitive form.

Spoon have been together for over 20 years now, yet it’s clear from this ninth full-length that their inspiration remains plentiful. In fact, Hot Thoughts is a surge of vivid creativity that veers between straightforward indie-pop and more experimental art pop.

BJM’s 16th full-length begins with a sublime eight-minute krautrock corker and doesn’t get any less fun from there.

60s references, bloody mindedness, affairs of the heart and a whole ton of drug references make for a perfect storm. But what comes through clearest is the agelessness of the music they make.

Some tracks inspire more amusement than may perhaps have been intended.

One minute solid as a rock, the next seemingly in flux, Solide Mirage reveals itself anew with each listen: fleeting glimpses at a map into unknown territory.

After starting with a deathly gripping take on Motherless Child, his supernatural countertenor beautifully holds its own over the luminescent backdrops throughout, showing how charisma, soul and delivery score any time over technique. Pure class.

With its subtle and strange arrangements, Be Ok is a most engaging listen.

Genuinely touching tunes such Driving and Tomorrow add a layer of depth and will help fend off inevitable accusations of ironic retroism, but Delicate Steve’s core appeal will always be that of good times all the time.

It all adds up to a life well-lived, in affecting songs.

The track’s second half building gradually--if not as gradually as their less condensed recordings – to a more dramatic finale. In comparison, dronesome pair Overhear and Rise feel a little underwhelming.

Melancholy levels are high--but that’s a distraction, as beneath this motif is a wealth of songwriting nous that continues to set Mercer apart from his peers.

In short, sharp bursts, this approach [bubblegum-flavoured power-pop enhanced by youthful, punky vigour] remains a winner, though as Courtneys II’s samey second side reveals, it can just as easily sound formulaic.

Singer John Paul Pitts explains there are also other heavy themes on this record, varying from mental illness to car accidents. But still the sunniness pervades. Ironically perhaps, Snowdonia is a summery sounding record, produced in a time that could easily have called for a deep freeze for Surfer Blood.

Their first live album captures Brownstein and her bandmates Corin Tucker, Janet Weiss and new touring member Katie Harkin ripping rapidly through a selection of their strongest material, the sabbatical years having drained none of their finesse or ferocity.

Woolf Works, like SLEEP, is instantly accessible, its noise and careful hand holding often startlingly modern and never once patronising. A thing of beauty.

A covert moral conscience underpins Williamson’s lyrics, in among the barbed and barbarous wit, the austere reportage, the vitriolic calumny and the pop-culture detritus: and, almost despite itself, the scattergun English Tapas can’t help but represent a telling state-of-the-nation address.

Instead of the rich brass that embellished his band’s last album Familiars or the warm electronics of 2011’s Burst Apart, this is based around stripped-down guitar and hushed, sometimes mantra-like intonations, with plenty of space.

Bouyed by Reid’s honeyed vocals and Sam Taylor’s chiming guitar, the likes of Richard and Come Home To You may be two of Preservation’s more traditional tunes but are of a simply breathtaking level for such a new talent.

With Semper Femina, Marling is back on more assured ground, largely acoustic, with subtle arrangements and an exquisite use of strings that seem a natural, wholly fitting addition to her ever-expanding palette.

It’s a sound of today with echoes of a gloriously simple past. It makes you wish that Hank Williams was around for a duet.

It may be over a decade since their last album, but when Last Place chugs into life with Why We Won’t, it feels as if Grandaddy haven’t aged a day.

Aas Blanck Mass he’s always presented a rawer sound. While his third full-length looks to take that to an extreme, compared to his recent live shows, it falls just slightly flat.

Rooted in funk grooves and infused with squelchy and crackling electronic textures, their compositions flow in and out of krautrock, afrobeat, art rock and desert rock.

It makes for warm, complex but ultimately rewarding listening--the forboding swell of Songs Of The Marvels, the smartly rollicking The Angry Laughing God--and is the sound of muscles being gently but confidently flexed.

This is clearly a personal project following a specific template, tailored to Alison’s own passions, and is all the better for it.

It might have taken four years to map out, but Tall Ships’ latest voyage is one that very much deserves discovery.