There aren't many artists who can deconstruct and rebuild such interesting tracks equally based on both disturbing and exquisite soundscapes, yet Fennesz continues his winning streak.

Past Lives isn't exactly full of surprises, but it doesn't need to be to succeed as a mission statement for a new band who seem to be around to stay, if rumours of new material brewing are any indication. Every member of L.S. Dunes is in their element even after respective years of being legends in the genre.

Musically, many of the songs here are not as melodic as the ones on TSAF and rely a bit too much on those blueprints. Nevertheless, the lyrics matter most in my opinion, while the music is just as engaging and easily sucks you in its universe. Dig it!

All Of This Will End is the type of album that will alternately satisfy and disgruntle the existing fanbase, but for me, it’s just another uneven but worthwhile step on an emerging artist’s journey.

Alter Bridge’s The Last Hero provides us with a great--if at times flawed – record whose meaning is even bigger than the music that comprises it.

El Mirador is definitely on the right path, becoming Calexico’s strongest effort since Algiers. These cheerful tunes make for an immediate, fun affair.

Sucker, for all its charms, occasionally comes off as one-dimensional. But there were few records this year as sparkly and blindingly colorful, with production values that revel in excess and a mischievous spirit that rivals the best of Charli’s rebellious, sexually adventurous forebears.

As assured as they are here, one still gets the nagging suspicion that Braids are yet to genuinely find their true sound. And, in a sense, this is what makes them such a fascinating proposition to continue to listen to.

Rheia is remarkably and unexpectedly cohesive in sound, while still sprawling and thoughtfully arched.

What makes Lousy with Sylvianbriar a typically of Montreal album is Barnes’s effortless subversion of these classic rock idioms, his ability to distort the twangy harmonies and corn-fed heartland melodies with blindingly vivid, visceral lyrical imagery as deceptive and dark as it is gorgeously enunciated.

We’re totally invested in Lump’s plight, watching it fight off numbness with two dead and flailing arms. But mainly because the tones here are wonderful.

The outfit’s edge has found a whetstone that is able to sharpen the previously-established chaos, whilst also adding a gut-punch severity to the overall effect, even if it remains just as playful in its lyricism and garage-band simplicity. Audacious in sound, digestible in focus and a big-bollocked, rollicking good time.

Their most socially aware record yet. Whether they address political issues, genocides (both historic and contemporary) or anxieties caused by alienation or inability to cope with the overwhelming pace of the 21st century, the band smoothly blends the beautiful with the ugly. In between the loud, razor wired guitar attack you also get lovely picked chords or bouncy bass lines.

A few quibbles aside, this is a rock-solid debut and it’ll be interesting to see where these women take their music next.

The only real thing separating this from Some Rap Songs is the lack of duration and inter-song flow; Earl's last album deserved those slightly silly Abbey Road nods as much as Jeff Rosenstock's WORRY. did, whereas FEET OF CLAY plays as self-contained little musings that seem to flutter in and out as a radio channel changes.

Formula of Love could have been trimmed to 10 strong cuts and I am sure it would have been one of the tightest Kpop albums in recent years. It’s easy to dismiss it due to the genre it represents, but there was considerable effort put into most of these songs, so it’s worth some listens.

Colors is a varied and blissful pop album that finds joy in our times, and Beck expectedly makes it interesting and vibrant to experience. He has decided to make something optimistic in the midst of so much unrest, and it succeeds in bringing a celebratory presence to a world that need it

A doubling down on their unapologetically weirdest influences; instead, a scattershot sampling of basically every sound they can conjure, recorded in every different way. The only thing Dragon... cements is that nothing about Big Thief is set in stone, which is in its own way an absolutely remarkable achievement.

The lyrics might not always make linear sense, but there’s a sort of appealingly weird logic to it all, and the musical soundscapes invite the listener towards some (often placid) alternate dimension. This may be a mood listen, more than anything, but as a soundtrack to a relaxed moment on a sunny day, you could do a whole lot worse.

Sometimes captivating, always soothingly pleasant, The Land, The Water, The Sky is an accessible effort which should appeal to a wide audience.

This album destroys as much as possible while it’s on, and even if it leaves a little to be desired once it’s over (damn expectations!), it doesn’t seem to give a fuck about what you think. Honestly, fair enough.

Letter to Self is undoubtedly a pretty good option to start off this new chapter, and for Sprints it may be even the beginning of something truly special.

When I’m in the perfect mindset this album feels like one of the finest albums I’ve heard all year, while if listened to when the mood isn’t quite right, the sleepiness of most of the album overwhelms its virtues. At the very least, Nothing Special is worth a spin for fans of Okkervil River, folk, or good lyrics, if for no other reason than to decide whether the album title is appropriate or not.

With the influx of diverse instrumentation and delightfully wacky songwriting/production choices, Paradise State of Mind may actually be their most accomplished album to-date – either way, it’s definitely their most entertaining.

It’s a nostalgic release full of wisdom, like hearing from an old friend, providing the kind of evening fireside soundtrack which hits just right in a particular mood. If nothing else, it’s a marvel how much emotion Knopfler, getting on in years, can still eke out of those guitar strings.

The Serenity of Suffering is easily Korn’s most diverse release; featuring melody, aggression, new sounds and old staples in just about equal measures wrapped into some of the band’s strongest songs in years.

This isn’t an album to convert the naysayers, but for the already initiated, prepare yourself to once more sing with your heroes, 33 rounds per minute.

Together is a finely-crafted work which should hold up to listening under widely varied circumstances, likely to feel as much at home amid the windswept, skeletal trees of late autumn as on the porch on a humid summer evening. All told, there’s plenty to rejoice about, the sad boys are back in town.