Minimalism is an integral part of the artistry, but with such intoxicating and candid notions, the balance reached is so perfectly aligned for this type of music, and in such an apathetic age, material like this really is a dying art; savour it.

The album has clearly been something of a labour of love for its creators, and feels remarkably homogenous for something produced by four highly individual minds via a mixture of live and studio performance over several years. If you like the sound of a big, camp, melodramatic slab of astrological sci-fi shot through with very earthly, twenty-first century hang-ups, Planetarium is a trip.

Sadly, the songs on the back half would sound much better as instrumentals. I miss the incoherent wailing of their 00s output. The Guillotine remains a somewhat worthy listen via its front four tracks.

Relaxer highlights the best and the absolute worst of Alt-J. That’s what makes it such a frustrating, and yet fascinating, listen.

Somersault is an exciting display of growth without feeling like a compromise. They might not yet be great, but this album indicates a band on the verge of a breakthrough.

Of course, at nearly two hours long, it’s probably not something you’ll listen to all in one go (especially if you’re not a Bob’s Burgers fan), but it’s quite easy to dip in and out of it at your leisure. If you like songs about butts and farts too, then you’re well catered for here.

Though it can eventually make for numerous and intricate readings both technically and conceptually, it's the album's undeniable quality that emerges as solid and everlasting, embodying a timelessness very rarely found.

Nektyr is a tough record to like. Fans of Cocteau Twins may be better placed than I to pierce the veil and properly appreciate the wonders within. For me, trying to pull away the mud and heavily-baked conceit left me exhausted.

Although She-Devils falls short of the high expectations it had built up prior to the release, all in all it is a solid album, one packed with loads of potential and major signs of forthcoming genius from the Montreal duo.

Green Twins is impeccably tailored and has some gorgeous ideas. What it lacks is the confidence to stretch its colour palette into areas the listener might not immediately associate with other, trailblazing artists.

Stubborn Persistent Illusions, is excellent in a different way. Gone are the rustic looking, red wine-tasting moments of their 00s output. This is music for nature.

While the songs are undoubtedly strong on their lonesome, You’re Welcome is a record that begs to be listened to in sequence.

On Party her songs are minimalistic, but they carry an emotional weight to which no one is able to stay indifferent.

Rocket hits enough of the right spots; there are a few really great songs, there are some tremendous arrangements, and it showcases Alex’s versatility and creativity, demonstrating once again that he is full of ideas and unafraid to try them out.

What makes that record sound so left-field is Cedric’s all over the place vocals and Ross Robinson’s infamously loud production.

This is not the work of somebody wanting to shortcut their way into making “atmospheric” music by cutting and pasting old ideas. Rather, it’s the mark of someone establishing their unique authorship with the utmost certitude.

If you're encountering The Mountain Goats for the first time, perhaps this isn't the ideal place to begin.

When listening to this album you can’t help but feel the infectiousness of the group sitting around together just jamming out these songs.

Powerplant is not the strongest record they'll release, but neither, you'd imagine, will it be their last. There's more than enough here to suggest that we may still be in the earlier days of a long and beautiful friendship.

In general, the album feels like a grab-bag of 'button issues', others' ideas, and content truly desperate to bear high-minded importance, but proves little more than Logic has clearly heard some Kendrick.

Real High is a considered, mature statement for Nite Jewel.

For now, we’ve been gifted a damn fine collection of songs and we would be remiss to not soak them in.

An already impressive album that both solidifies their reputation as one of the more compelling bands to come out of the 90s alternative landscape, and cements their reunion as one of the few necessary ones that are currently happening.

Unfortunately, the album ends up being a whole that is less than the sum of its parts, making no real impact on the listener as it quietly meanders along.

Overall Slowdive is a strong return for this now-much-loved band. They’ve delivered on all the levels that fans would have desired: beauty, atmosphere, emotion and grandiosity.

Joan Shelley remains a largely satisfying record with some moments of true magic, despite not ostentatiously breaking any new ground.

There’s an incredible amount of space at play on Compassion; the instrumentation and samples inhale and exhale, breathing life into the tracks.

Hadreas let a little light in, upped the production values and expanded his sonic repertoire, creating a near-masterpiece of hair-raising emotional evocation.

DeMarco has shifted his musical style in a way that does not feel forced or as though he lost anything in the process. In fact, he feels though he is more refined than ever, offering beautiful and heartbreaking sentiments with a remarkable economy of language, all the while delivering another sonic masterpiece that will undoubtedly soundtrack all too many summer soirees this year.

As her music shows, Kelly Lee Owens is honest, fluid and meaningful. Her rise to success is owed to her own creative mind and assuring that taking time to create a solid product can be a virtue.

What Now contemplates private change of circumstance and personhood with pathos, kindness, and humour, and bangs fervidly in the process.

For those who are willing and eager to succumb to Stetson’s idiosyncratic sound, pressing play on this album is like stepping into his wilderness, and if you’re prepared to be battered by typhoon-like playing and virtuosic arrangements of sound, then you’ll come out the other side thrilled and refreshed.

Though their influences are neatly displayed almost in the same way band posters are hung neatly on a bedroom wall: Cheap Trick, Kiss, Thin Lizzy, The Cars, The Ramones, just about any great power-pop or classic rock band, White Reaper effortlessly make their influences solely their own.

Heartless is a triumphant metal album, and is yet another entry on the list of arguments for Pallbearer being among the few bands in the genre’s peak echelon today. With Heartless, Pallbearer has laid down the gauntlet for the entire metal genre to even contend for its album of the year.

This is Kendrick Lamar playing the game, and making everything else look dangerously irrelevant while he's at it. Be afraid.

The highlights come when the songs are underscored by punchy percussion, giving the tracks a slightly sultry groove.

This diversity in delivery is the savior of the first half of the record which pales slightly to the second.

Those seeking out a Julia Holter live album aren’t looking for pop thrills, but rather mature, sophisticated compositions performed by accomplished, unbound musicians. It is here in spades.

To be sure, his willingness to descend into darkness, both regarding the world and within himself, is a large part of the man's appeal, but here he seems to have misunderstood, or simply ignored, what makes him truly great.

The Far Field is a triumph--it shows Future Islands refusing to buckle under newfound pressure, and instead creating another stellar record to add to their burgeoning catalogue.

Write In sees them continuing to demonstrate just how deceptively subtle their shifts in sound and approach can be, and the depth of their songcraft reveals itself over repeated listens in ways it never did before.

Despite its otherwise grim title, it plumbs emotional depths even further and creates a more vivid and exciting picture of what Clark is capable of this late in his career, and why all of the hype surrounding him from the beginning was more than credible.

All in all, this is a solid solo debut form Coco Hames. The lyrics are superb and the compositions are clean.

Diet Cig’s debut album Swear I’m Good At This is a reclamation of female sexual agency, a physical mandate for equality, a gauntlet-throwing promise for world domination, and the most fun I’ve had with a punk album this year.

It’s A Myth an easily enjoyable release that doesn’t waste any of its brief and surprising burst.

It’s a challenging but rewarding listen which uncovers itself most rewardingly when given full attention on a dark and melancholic night.

Impressions is a special record, coloured by climbing compositions as cavernous spaces of reflective quiet. It’s deeply feeling, and deeply felt.

You Only Lie 2wice is a reflection of past mistakes, a declaration of dreams for his family’s future and a time stamp for the strenuous reality of an artist who nearly lost it all on his way to gaining it all.

It may not hit the mark every time, but her adventurous, unapologetic approach to driving pop forwards to exciting new ground should be praised.

If your life needs to be stripped of its bombast for a little while, Real Estate remain a steadfast companion for a little R&R. Just don’t beat yourself up if you can’t sit through the whole thing.

The result is a thrilling trip into a time and a place where nothing is really quite as it seems and the glamorous mask is slipping away.

It may not be one you play often, but it's also one you will never forget. It's omnipresent. Words fail.

Overall Hot Thoughts doubles down on what we already knew: that Spoon are a band always looking to push themselves, a fact that seems to be getting more acute with each passing album, and it should be celebrated.

Beneath their gilded surface, everything here has been explored numerous times by the man himself before, far more memorably.

Overall, Paradise is a safe bridge from HOPELESSNESS, where the singer is able to express herself in another wide collection of musical manifestos.

Salutations is good, but it is apparent it could have been better. Rather than swing for the fences, Conor and crew settled for a base hit that didn’t move any runners on base.

It’s emotionally rich, and intelligent, and purposeful, and firmly cohesive.

This album is just a few puzzle pieces shy of being great, and that’s a damn shame.

With Eagle already standing as one of the peaks of modern folk music, we would not necessarily have expected to hear another knockout record from her, but there’s no denying Semper Femina stands toe-to-toe with her opus.

If you're paying attention, there's a minor treasure at hand. Ease on in.

50 Song Memoir is as much the story of Stephin Merritt’s life as it is a love letter to song. It is a certifiable masterpiece and one that music lovers ‘round the world will not soon forget.

It’s full of layers and little emotions, rather than just being a slave to the bigger issues and emotions, and that’s what makes it authentic.

So whilst there are shades of Jan St. Werner, Brian Eno and Yellow Magic Orchestra, the result is a series of soundscapes like nothing else.

It’s coherent, exciting, and strong, and it gives you an in-depth idea of how you can articulate experimental soundscapes with rough portions of sound that cause commotion.

Moh Lhean sounds just as complete as any other WHY? record. This album is the mark of a man who knows where he is in life.

He hasn't lost a step, returning with an album that reminds of Lotus in its sprawling, rapidly transitioning 23-song tracklist. There is little else to compare, here, Thundercat--already a musical wunderkind--truly grows into his own as a presence.

Volcano's songs seem to lack the spontaneity Sun Structures was built upon.

Tears in the Club acts as yet another testament to Kingdom’s skill as an innovative musician; many try to fuse inspirations from numerous styles, eras and artists, but few do it quite so effortlessly.

Infinite Worlds is accomplished and stirring, but it’s also sprinkled with surprise intimacies, distinguishing it as one of the most remarkable and challenging releases so far this year.

Silberman’s compositions are packed with poignancy and are captivating.

Gang Signs & Prayer is as insightful as it is extravagant, gracious as it is haughty, and divine as it is gritty, which is both a blessing and a curse depending on whether or not you were looking for more gang signs than prayer.

Their homemade studio occasionally shows its flaws, but this is simultaneously heartening. King Gizzard are easy to forgive and fun to like, showing that it’s more than a record about reliving psychedelic music’s prototypes.

Reduced to his own devices, our gentleman hero has crafted both the most intrinsically soulful, emotional, and heartfelt record of his career. No less, he's delivered on one of music's greatest archetypes--and with aplomb.

Noveller is nothing if not consistent and A Pink Sunset Over No One is another fine example of such success.

After a year of baited breathing, we seem to have arrived at an in-between. There's still plenty of fun to be had in the waiting room, but let's hope he has more in store for the next appointment.

Lowly make it clear throughout that they look upon life and all of its intricacies as a gift, and they have translated that wonderment and thankfulness into a beautiful ode to the world on their debut album.

There is a wide-eyed optimism pulsing through the heart of it which, twinned with Jens’ lovelorn, quirky poetry, is a sincere, open-hearted invitation. The least it deserves is the same uncynical embrace from the listener.

You’d hope that Lupe would trust himself enough to deliver the kind of music he’s capable of making. Instead, we get a terrible album--a new low in a career that already has too many down moments.

By listening to it, you are induced to disconnect from your surroundings, and to appreciate and find peace within the chaos of the everyday life and modern struggles. It’s not an isolation capsule, but you’ll definitely feel as though you’re floating to safety.

Fin is a mature, if slightly restrained debut.

This is not an album for a breakthrough, nor is it a bastion in the storm. It's something grander.

Although sometimes the journey gets bumpy, and Aquilo lose their way to sleepy filler, they always manage to find their way back to the dreamy, lush pop and rich electronic tapestries that makes part of this record such a triumph.

. The more challenging half of the record may still to be released, but judging by the vibrant band on display on Volume 1, we need not worry.

She not only tells a story, she takes it a step further, peeling back the façade and interacting with the truths that haunt us all in those late night hours. And it is that bravery that truly propels Tourist in This Town.

After The Party is resurgent by rediscovering everything that’s exciting about The Menzingers’ esotericism, and it’s fresh through galvanising this logical step in their thematic journey with a goodie-bag of gratifying surprises.

There is an authenticity that bleeds through this album. It is proper DIY- rugged and unique enough to know this is coming from a human, yet polished and carefully crafted enough to feel the pride and excitement in sharing a work of art for the public to claim.

Migos see no need for a limit to the fun, and invite you in with familiarity, guiding you right into the consistency that follows throughout the album.

In an engaging and accessible way, Kehlani uses her sharp pen game to detail her experiences navigating relationships and her career as best she can, despite her past impacting many facets of her future.

What sets Ty Segall apart from Slaughterhouse--and most of his albums--is the well-measured balance between the heavy Ty and the more melodious Ty. He moves back and forth throughout, but easily maintains unison under his idiosyncratic character; and the album is crafted to ebb and flow.

Leaving aside their Chicago/Detroit-house inspired beats and diving into gloomier topics and luscious sounds, the power of Stelmanis’ lyrics is what makes this new release stronger than its predecessor.

Where Nothing Feels Natural suffers is in the R&D department. Many of the ideas only make a couple of appearances. ... Still, there’s quite a lot to like here, and it’s mostly due to Greer--the speak-sing existentialism of ‘No Big Bang’, the Everything Goes Wrong-era Vivian Girls homage on ‘Nothing Feels Natural’, the ragged heartbeat of ‘Appropriate’.

While infested by hooks, yet Life Without Sound bears itself with moral clarity and resolve while rocking damn hard.

All in all, Voyager is both a pleasant surprise and an addiction.

Although the performances on Live in Paris are spot on, they don’t fulfil the promise of the concert. It can’t convey the feeling of the floor moving during the chorus of ‘Bury Our Friends’. It lacks the visual component of Tucker and Brownstein kicking and howling while playing.

What Hansen and company have accomplished with Epoch (and their previous albums) can only be described as tapping into the sublime.

By removing its circumstantial baggage entirely, The Wild Heart Of Life is satisfying and uplifting, and continuously so. But it feels in every way--sans the band’s personal serenity--a regression after Celebration Rock.

Encompassing everything from the smallest quibbles of youthful existence to the largest problems facing the world today--all delivered in a slightly cartoony, extremely bombastic and hugely enjoyable package.

Finally, she has stepped out into the light, her outward-facing confidence having infused her music with a timeless joy.