Qualm is her inauguration. Its agitated kineticism and flagrant oddness, blossoming from Hauff’s intrinsic charisma and craft, is exhilarating. It is techno gorgeously streamlined; straddling the fucking weird and the primally gratifying, as present in the grimiest tunnel raves as in soundtracking the imminent robot revolution.

Somehow these combined imperfections result in several absolutely perfect moments that will keep How To Socialise & Make Friends on rotation for a good while to come.

Unwrapping the record reveals a collection of tightly packed delights; exceptional songs that grandstand the artist's lyrical prowess, outstanding musicianship and incredibly flexible voice, readily guided by Herbert (Bjork, Michachu, Roisin Murphy) in the producer's chair.

Title aside, Collapse affirms the stability of the Aphex Twin name.

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.

Shackles' Gift was born in Maritius, yet constructed in London, it's as indebted to the past as it is to the present and it's to the band's credit that they understand that completely.

With more than enough flagrant energy to satiate the average punk, The Murder Capital—still—is most affecting through its delicate and understatedly sad musings on life and death. In fact, the rest of the record sees the band tap into poetic introversion that is both broad enough to latch onto, yet intimate enough to impress your own experiences and fears.

That deeply empathic acknowledgment of the darkness that chases us coupled with messages of positivity to help us keep running, keep moving forward, and stay ahead of that same darkness. More so than the volume of the guitars or drums, or the feral power of Monks’ screams, it's this that makes Heaven feel so damn heavy.

At Weddings doesn't allow itself to wallow. If anything, it's Tomberlin sharing with us her own form of catharsis, a collection of intimate and powerful songs that sift through life's more disappointing and challenging moments to find the beauty we sometimes overlook.

The Waiting Room is Tindersticks on ravishing form. For die-hards and newcomers alike, it's hard not to be drawn in by the lush facade it creates.

As an album, it hangs together beautifully, avoiding the pitfalls of many concept records with its warm, honest approach.

Whether the waves will have died down enough for him to return to other topics on the next Mount Eerie album is yet to be heard. But, if he does make another album in honour of his deceased wife, he’s proven here that he still has enough love and poetry in him to make it a deeply resonant and worthwhile listen.

Jay Som is truly at home on Anak Ko, and it shows. It may not pack a wallop, but it's always welcoming, and, sometimes, that's just what we need.

The songwriting is on point and the production subtly augments without obfuscating or distracting.

Their vocal frustrations make perfect fodder for their post-punk blasts, and in combination they add up to some of the most invigorating music currently being created, making Wide Awake! a valuable and vital call to arms.

We are left at its end feeling reflective, yet somewhat lost as to how these feelings we just experienced could ever be rediscovered. It's something that only the power of music can create, and Bing & Ruth do it with style, elegance and tact.

Heartleap works superbly as a collection of songs, and can only serve to extend and preserve her legacy.

When the walls seem to be crumbling, she dodges them with vocal acrobatics and surging production. As we look forward to a happier time, less insufferable, NAO shares a bit of bliss in her coming-out party as one of R&B’s most promising young dominants.

While Midnight is, overall, a somewhat flawed record, it still shows impressive growth for Chura. Like Messes, it doesn’t settle into the oft-tread indie rock rut of bland, cliché emotionality, while the songwriting is clearly leagues ahead of her debut.

While at times the overall production and heavy effects can take away from the impact, Good at Falling is ultimately a work of emotions. The album perfectly represents what people go through while trying to hold on to relationships, knowing they should let go.

This is still dense music, yes, but crucially it never alienates over its epic 68 minutes: you can drop in on this record at any point and still find a good time. As such, I Was Real feels like the band’s most thorough examination of itself yet--and is all the more satisfying as a result.

Exiled is urgent and breathless from a band who need to be heard.

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.

With this captivating sequel, The Body & Full of Hell have given us something striking that could only have been realized with each other.

Whether he's taking himself to task, tossing shots in every direction (see: ‘Bam’), or simply reminiscing as on the glorious glide of ‘Marcy Me’, he sounds perfectly at home. ... 4:44 presents a renewed Jay-Z.

Hourglass Pond is an off-balance album. If you played the album to someone who didn’t know Tare had a new album, it would be very unclear where it belongs in his discography.

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

This brand of tell-all genreless rock may seem impenetrable at first, but a few listens is all it takes before you’ll be hooked by Richard Dawson’s paranoia, honesty and poetry.