The Moon Rang Like A Bell starts off with captivating momentum, a potential to take you on a whimsical, emotional journey. But along the way it seems to have sacrificed that sense of purity first apparent in its experimentation.

The Long Goodbye successfully captures the atmosphere, the tears, the laughter, the unbridled joy of that last ever gig, that final blowout, like a time capsule to be preserved forever more and to keep the spirit of LCD Soundsystem alive.

Are We There is one of those rare albums when you stop listening to the music as simply a combination of chords, melodies and carefully constructed instrumentation, but as essential, emotional communication from one person to another.

Upside Down Mountain suggests that he's starting to move into a new period of his career where he can use his wisdom to write songs that are passionate in a new, more mature way, without having to try to dredge up an old fire that doesn't quite burn as violently anymore.

The fact that Tempest offers very little in the way of hope (the rest of the album's tale has been one of disaster so to believe any happy ending will last is naive at best) is representative of her bold story-telling, but it also means that through heavy beats and dispiriting lyrics, this is a tough album to get through in one piece.

The best place to file Zoetrope would probably be on the shelf marked 'albums worth a punt if you have a few bob spare'.

The variety of sounds and instrumentation on the record is something to be admired.

Yes, it's clear that this is a more matured, polished Mr. Scruff that often bristles with darkness, but it's a more mature Mr. Scruff at that sacrifices the puckish rogue charm we all fell in love with.

Ben Frost has pulled off something quite remarkable with A U R O R A in making a record that's pretty terrifying in places yet so utterly irresistible.

Much like this path's brightest gems, Revelation is unique, yet strangely familiar.

The album closes with appropriately titled 'Come Down', a sparse and intimate song with earnest vocals and harmonies that ease the reader out of an intoxicating album-induced daze.

Too often, though, this feels like folk music on cruise control despite the attempts to introduce subtle electronic elements to the background of many of the songs, like a Fence Collective recording gone a bit wrong.

The message behind the music is much more clichéd, and much less interesting.

Data Panik etcetera delivers up-tempo, four minute slices of pop-perfection and in a variety of styles.

Like the rest of her discography, Hour of the Dawn a short and sweet collection of music for and from the heart, only this time around it's played right from the guts.

Incredibly, they're becoming even less safe, even less predictable, as they near pension age; on this evidence, long live Michael Gira.

POBPAH's third LP lunges confidently into all the right places, emitting sunshine, glee, rainbows, sugar and sparkles as it goes like a sweaty unicorn running a marathon.

Whilst it makes for an interesting record, it does mean that it always ran the risk of dividing opinion. The album is however, not without its highlights and for fans of shoe gaze, post-punk, or noise rock in general, it's well worth seeking this record out and letting it consume you.

There was a sense of duty in pressing play on Luminous rather than an organic excitement or desire.

It feels raw, genuine, but most of all, human.

It's a thrilling ride.

On Bermuda Waterfall, Savage has taken a real step forward, proving beyond reasonable doubt that he's a fine songwriter; he just needs a little more instrumental refinement, and perhaps a slightly more nuanced understanding of his strongest vocal suit, before he's truly mixing it with the big boys of throwback pop.

Intimate, raw and captivating; there is lasting wisdom found in In The Hollows.

Young Magic's second full-length is arguably a more accomplished body of work than Melt, which although also very strong, doesn't have the same congealed feel.

Southsiders is extremely competent, and has enough really great beats to more than make up for the general air of insouciance. It's good. It just ain't essential.

This is a good record but unfortunately there's something missing.

It's encouraging that there are some clear signs of expansion on Brightly Painted One, but the question now is whether Tiny Ruins really have anywhere else to go.

Garbus' sound is still a little too vague, still in need of some real streamlining; the promise remains blindingly obvious, but the execution, for my money at least, is still missing.