Much of the record maintains a high tempo in line with the singles released so far, but interestingly it’s the one real downer that provides the album’s standout moment.

Nothing here really transcends nor even builds enough momentum to leave a lasting impression, but none of it prevents Midnight from being a subtly pleasing experience suitable for any time of day.

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.

There is restraint here, an alien concept for a band of Lightning Bolt’s usual undiluted abandon, but there is also the gleeful harshness which makes them such a force of the underground music scene.

Long time fans of Nadler’s work won’t be disappointed, but overall For My Crimes feels like a bit of a missed opportunity. She may sing about throwing keys, but the reality is this album won’t be taking anyone’s eye out anytime soon.

If, after an absence of 19 years, you are happy to engage with a band who are reprising much of their musical and lyrical themes whilst also dipping their toes into unexplored (and poorly realised) terrain, then no doubt there is much within White Stuff which will tick all of the appropriate boxes. But, oh man, that Kool Keith track.

How Big, How Blue, How Beautiful is an arena-ready and festival-ready record that, in true Florence and the Machine fashion, is packed to the brim with alarmingly catchy hooks and astounding vocal theatrics from its vocalist.

It's accessible, creative, and honest- everything art wishes it could be.

Whether it be pushing past the anxieties of sitting still with no particular sense of home, both in a figurative and literal sense, or even the bittersweet memories of failed relationships, Peck’s desires are timeless and unveiled for all to cherish and cry to.

While this is also an explicitly more cathartic album than past releases, Schrader’s words sometimes are either difficult to fully parse or don’t pack the oomph they could. These flaws aside, Riddles required Schrader and Rice to take a gamble, and it’s one that paid off.

The album is an engaging and enjoyable listen and deserves all the credit it will inevitably receive.

Lex is well-mannered, fun experimentalism with a winning spirit. If it doesn't break any tonal boundaries, it firmly establishes its composers' place at least in sight of the bleeding edge. And it opens the door to all manner of discoveries.

The only other hiccups are a couple of occasions when the synth lines get a little too rambunctious for their own good, bordering almost on comic. These blips aside, Certainty Waves is inventive, uplifting and fun, with something new to be discovered on every listen: an excellent entry into the Dodos’ discography.

Public Service Broadcasting's intentions are to be praised, even if the result is weak and unfocused. If the SDP leadership had formed a band, it would sound like this.

[A] lovingly crafted, adventurous soundtrack that easily stands on its own merits.

What a Terrible World, What a Beautiful World is scored through with the group's idiosyncracies--there's certainly no loss of identity here--but what there is, as well, is maturity, ambition and variety, all of which conspire to form the basis of a very fine indie rock record--and there's no strings attached to that qualification.

Though the record as a whole is phenomenal, there's a particularly toothsome middle third, the highlight of which is 'Say It Once's thrilling shift into top gear.

Beautiful things take time to properly come to life, and this is no exception; although this reading obviously comes in the aftermath of her accident, Bon Voyage sounds like a rebirth of sorts for Prochet.

A perplexingly bloated, often aimless album is both a head-scratcher and a true waste of potential.

La Isla Bonita is harder, edgier and noisier than 2012's Breakup Song, but just as charming, off-kilter and curious.

It might not have the same explosive nature as Bones but what it does have are some pop juggernauts.

Though it offers only one "new" song, Pond Scum freshly adds (even more) depth to the Bonnie 'Prince' Billy cannon as if it were another studio album.

Mykki is a well-crafted, incisive debut record that proves to be well worth the wait.

Sprout's contributions as are every bit as lo-fi as Pollard's, but they're softer around the edges, lending Jumpsuit a nicely balanced feel.

Power is richly produced, up-beat in the pop mould at times, and tugging away at something deeper at others.

Mr. Davis seems to pull in every direction at once. Gucci himself, despite the attempted show of a triumphant album, largely seems to feel somber.

It's equally beautiful and heartbreaking, a kind of gentle sadness pulsing through it. Anne doesn't dwell in sadness though, instead, it presents a touching and honest glimpse of some of the more unfair struggles we often face that leaves us searching for hope and, more importantly, answers, but it does so in a tasteful and dignified way.

Although its most inviting moments come tucked away in the calmer less darker IDM influenced tracks. Similar to laughter, this music doesn't necessarily have to mean anything in order to give us deep pleasure.