It’s by no means perfect, but that’s not what the Rolling Stones are about. These troubadour, raconteurs set the blueprint and this is them laminating it for good measure, refusing to ever let the moss grow fat.

Long term fans won’t learn anything new here, but a good Ladytron album is better than no Ladytron album, and seeing how they didn't even seem to exist a few years ago, this is something to be thankful for.

It’s tempting to think of Brightly Painted One as a “grower” of an album, and much of that depends on where you stand on the music/lyrics side of things. The problem is, for all of its evident beauty, it’s difficult to get inside – frustratingly so.

The album shoots its shot repeatedly to great effect, sometimes it’s better at hitting the mark than at other times but always seeks to embrace the euphoric and it’s obvious why Nia Archives has become a need-to-know name in dance music in a relatively short space of time.

Despite the wide range of aesthetics on the record, however, there are no two ways about it; this thing is bloody gorgeous. Two of the most adept singer-songwriters in haunting, poignant melancholy, the beauty to Better Oblivion Community Center lies exactly where you’d expect.

This natural movement away from jazz has led them to a sort of awkward middle ground. It feels like To Believe is a beautiful soundtrack to a film we don’t have the visuals for. And it’s just not quite enough on its own.

Cymbals Eat Guitars certainly have done right with LOSE; it’s an impeccably beaten, teary-eyed but smiling document to a frighteningly exhilarating time of one’s life and beacon to march onward--momentous to anyone in their 20s, and even us still neurotic old guys.

There’s nary a misstep, and yet, it still sounds as raw as a carcass in a butcher’s window.

PARANOÏA isn’t without flaw; some tracks work more as spoken poems than as songs due to their slack, unmoving instrumentation. But at almost 100 minutes, Chris’ most astounding work yet expands his craftsmanship to territories surprisingly well-suited for him.

This one’s a slow burner. And it’s nice to be reminded that sometimes, that’s a good thing.

Run Around The Sun retains much of that same flavour [of Strike A Match], continuing to base the duo’s agitated progressions at the core of their sound.

Somebody’s Knocking represents the point of no return – he's finally surpassed his past achievements, forgotten his past lives, cast off his old names and fully solidified his position as the pre-eminent ruler of the dark kingdom of gothic rock.

It’s equal parts silly, serious, camp, and on occasion mildly ridiculous, but remains wildly inventive throughout, it’s one hell of a party.

Post Tropical has lots of vivid imagery, much drawn from the great outdoors, but throughout the LP’s duration, there’s always a strident theme of strength.

In many ways, Impermanence is vintage Silberman, a sullen continuation of his preoccupations with the maudlin and the melancholy. And irrefutable proof that silence is indeed golden.

Tracks are also structurally diverse. Fans expecting an album stacked with back-to-back bangers, as Nights Out (2008) and The English Riviera (2011) are, will be caught off guard. Instead Mount gives his creative muscles space to flex wide, sandwiching catchy hits between mysterious soundscapes and zany instrumentals.

Five albums into her career, Peaches is as dirty as she ever was, and shows no sign of calming down.

Sincerely, Future Pollution continues to raise the band’s crooked bar.

As an entry level to this magnificent band, this more than suffices.

With their debut they have, for the most part, broken metaphysical barriers between techno, noise and punk, and presented a record beaming with youthful exuberance, and containing a frightening level of intensity. The presented fruits of their labour, inspired by Kiely’s breakdown, are resounding.

He is clearly putting the time in on Raskit and not short-changing his considerable talent as a vocalist.

This album is yet further proof that John Maus has no boundaries and relishes unearthing new patterns, sequences and progressions. He’s in his element when creating music quite unlike anything else.

Over quiet vocals, nifty guitar pickings, and an open diary of personal confessions, Lily sets out 40 minutes of warm, stripped-back introspection. The tempo barely lifts above a sway, but if you lean into the motions, the familiarity comforts more than it wanes.

It is thanks to such a diverse roster of musicians that the album is as rich in instrumental character as it is in lyrical depth and intrigue.

KicK iii is a more turbulent entry in the Arca universe: its relentless ability to generate movement out of stillness makes it one of her most accomplished works to date.

Lanterns on the Lake have drawn on harsh experience to produce a beautiful record that’s anything but superficial.

The Love Invention isn’t quite the crown grab it has the potential to be, despite her being on brilliant form as always.

Boy King punches more like Nine Inch Nails when Trent Reznor was still sexy, synths strafing and drums pounding like the outro to “Closer” teased out for forty minutes.

They still unleash stunning music on Origins without always seeking to shock.

Each fleeting harmonious moment on the album relies on the one that came before it, and the one that comes after.

This slight quirkiness is part of the appeal of hey u x, along with the 19-year old’s ability to blend relatable and intimate content. Personal themes of loneliness and loss twist their way like a fibre into the very heart of the album.

They haven't put all the pieces together, but the evidence suggests that Geese are still capable of laying a golden egg.

Rather than build on that record’s [The Shadow Of Heaven's] elegance and lightness of touch, MONEY have traded it out for something less polished, that’s often brutal in its emotional delivery. Not an obvious next step, then, but certainly a compelling one.

It’s a disco ball in a downtrodden pub that occasionally shines a light on the ashtray angst of early Iceage, while remaining focused on the wider picture.

Like much of Horse Jumper’s previous work, though, it doesn’t depart significantly from the canonic playbook, unfurling as derivation or emulation more than a recasting of the genre.

If you persevere, it’s an LP that will reveal it’s creamy goodness in due time. You’ve got to wine’n'dine it, not just expect to jump into bed.

These are powerful, thoughtful songs that stand up to hours of repeated listening, and always raise a smile in the process.

Although this is at times a frustratingly inconsistent demonstration of his talents, Autre Ne Veut is still one of the more accomplished acts to have emerged from the bedroom R’n'B/future pop/whatever niche.

Your Hero Is Not Dead shows Westerman not only invigorated, but willing to stretch his range. Working again alongside longtime friend and producer, Bullion, Westerman, here, surpasses his early work with curious abandon and confessional songwriting.

TANGK adds something else to the conversation. A level of fragility that has not yet been displayed by IDLES, it is an album that swaps brash vocals with more tender notes. Love is the thing, and it seems like it is here to stay.

The cocksure quality of My Love Is Cool represents some majority of its charm.

A record that has surpassed all of the greatness her previous efforts entailed. Exceeding the status of a collection of songs, instead star-crossed takes us on a journey from beginning to end with bound-to-be hits like “Justified” and “Cherry Blossom” along for the ride whilst perfectly conveying a story that yet has to find its ending.

Defying the years and possibly expectations, Time’s Arrow sees a band revitalised, creating music with those rare qualities of nuance and complexity, flowing in a dreamlike state where, just maybe, darkness loses the battle against light. Or, if you prefer, it’s simply a collection of damn fine synth-pop.

With Scream from New York, Been Stellar have announced their presence with a gem that’s sure to fire them into wider consciousness.

There’s no doubt that it’s a more sober affair than their previous work, but as a snapshot of a country in turmoil, it’s a weighty, sometimes euphoric and completely compelling encapsulation of time and place.

Remy’s new tracks are more slickly produced, built around retro and upbeat sounds.

It’s a skew-wiff funk record you can’t dance to, something to get lost in while not immediate, stuffed with arrangements that have so much going on but you hardly notice once they’re set.

His playing may offer fewer surprises than you might expect, but his spirit as a leader is present and the handful of sonic oddities he throws in are a joy to behold.

This is twenty seven minutes of searing punk rock, blistering guitars, brilliant singing, incredible drumming and there’s never a dull moment or weak point.

You might call Forever 2024’s ear worm central.

Though much is often said about Sunflower Bean’s sounds of the past, Twenty Two In Blue is an impressive reflection of their formative years and a place to start talking about their future.

This joyful little geode of an album--a 38-minute pocket of melodies that cluster, sparkle, and spike--has a powerfully anti-cynical energy to it,

The collection instead represents more of an expansion on their current sound and scope, and finds a band still willing to take risks 40 years into an exalted career--still not caring what we think of it, but daring us to follow them where they lead before the Wire factory goes quiet once again.

All of This Will End is an album to listen to while driving fast into the sunset, windows down, trying to make sense of the world.

In Criminal, Luis Vasquez has constructed an album dark and bleak in nature, an exploration that sees him turn his attention to creating hard hitting industrial rock in order to deal with all he's lived through. It's a record of which he can be proud.

There’s moments where creeping doubt, and a little bit of self-awareness, begin to set in--mainly on Franz’s part--but those aside, this is going to challenge Ezra Furman’s Perpetual Motion People for the title of the year’s finest pop oddball.

Mura Masa isn’t perfect, with his production sometimes losing its identity to his guest stars, but it’s a solid and most importantly fun debut for a real rising star.

Concrete Desert is not intended to fade away and become background music or some meaningless soundscape. Rather, it's a captivating effort that leaves the listener exhausted, but ready to spiral again.

Alvvays’ record is a hard-hitting, multi-faceted anthology of awesome, and sits pretty as one of 2014’s brightest debuts.

There is far more variety on Hit Reset than you suspect the casual ear is going to give it credit for. The biggest talking point on Hit Reset, though, is that it finds Hanna on the lyrical form of her life--and that’s saying something.

This is a near-faultless EP, and one that’s so incredibly moreish.

This album was a joy to listen to, without a doubt.

Strange Friend is a cosmic krautrock gem, like TV On The Radio raised in the Highlands, bustling with excitement and teaming with a million different ideas, eager to spill them all onto the canvas regardless of the mess it will make. But what a gloriously colourful mess to behold.

No tracks on the record could really be said to be ‘stand out’ but they create, on the whole, something that experiments with psych’s current face, paying homage to the ‘far out’ creators who originated it.

Despite strong results in the past, this time these elements have ultimately combined to make a sort of erratic psychedelic porridge; boring in more than a few places, and a bit much for anyone other than the genre's keenest fans.

Another Billy Childish record--freewheelin', unhinged, intellectual, intense, mustachioed. It was ever thus.

Boxed In is an album that's hard to pin down, but it hits hard enough in places to get the party started and holds just enough back to make you want to return to it again and again.

It makes for a beguiling, snuggling sort of a record, easy to float away to at times, wild and cinematic at others, but always with a warm and unconstructed feel.

Making an instrumental concept record is no easy feat, but Tourist’s U manages to take you through his emotional journey in a nuanced way that showcases his song crafting talent.

Even though Frahm shines on Oddments of the Gamble though his exquisite use of the Rhodes, the real stars of this record come through the application of percussion, as performed by Gmeiner and Andrea Belfi.

Pulling out the stitching from vintage rock sounds, they liberate its cloth from the need to fit over preset shapes.

A record [that] gleefully skips through genres without ever missing a beat, Jamie T’s fourth effort is a genuinely magnificent album that surpasses anything else in his discography with consummate ease. He simply hasn’t missed a trick.

Their progression has never been less than thrilling to watch, and--this is a compliment--Older Terrors feel like another step, not a destination. We have much to expect from this group yet.

Ruins shows an added steel and stronger resolve, the sound of a band toughening up, but still retaining that initial spirit that made them so distinctive.

20 Years in a Montana Missile Silo sits comfortably at the Pere Ubu table as the main course of an illustrious career. Gorge yourself.

Destroyer’s new album, ken, is Bejar’s best work since his masterpiece.

Punk Drunk and Trembling is an EP that displays the best of their later sound and leaves you wanting more.

A Humdrum Star is a stunning piece of music making, and almost certainly GoGo Penguin’s best work.

Sophisticated and sombre, Carney knows how to evoke emotion with precision; on this record, she does so with extraordinary effect.

There’s a sensitive soul underneath Birthday’s hyperactive bounce, and it tends to come out clearest when Pom Poko find a sweet spot and stay there for a minute.

Is it jazz? Electronica? Improvised music? Who cares. Far, far removed from the briefly interesting novelty or vanity project that the prospect of this record might suggest, Holy Spring is an intoxicating gem.

Pizzorno produces an album that is filled with surprises. Some pleasant, some just plain out-there, it is an album that is certain of its direction and doesn’t navigate too far from it. It's a convincing enough plea that Pizzorno is not just an indie rock mastermind - he's capable of much more besides.

She takes the woozy, sub-bass-soaked beats and splashes glittering melodics over the top, adding her own little sprinkle of icing sugar. Listening to Zdenka 2080 is a little like how it would feel to be floating through space: disorientating and fascinating, leaving you with a constant tingly feeling upon your skin as your drift ever closer to the sun.

From the harp-tinged starter of “No Good”, far across the twinkling lights, broken hearts and epiphany, to thunderous claps of “…Again” A Muse holds itself aloft, floating dreamily on a sea of feeling.

As the next chapter in an unimpeachably reliable catalog, Nicole Atkins couldn’t ask for anything more from Italian Ice, preserving her artistic hallmarks, deepening her emotional lyrical depth, while broadening her stylistic palette.

On their debut, Delmer Darion present an album that can be enjoyed studiously through exploring its depth and archival references, but more importantly they have simply created 44 minutes of music that sounds like it is from a new world as beautiful as it is strange.

On the surface this band is whimsical and experimental but delve into the depths of their lyrics and the inner darkness becomes apparent. Adventurous and often enchanting, Burrows is one of the more intriguing debuts of the year.

Tackling societal issues and delving into the depths of mental health, the band hold no boundaries when fronted with ‘taboos’ in their most honest, and sonically mature offering to date.

They have now added a new level of maturity to their already-impressive output. No longer raw and promising, they have returned as a band truly at the top of their game.

MORE D4TA or MODERAT 4 is the sound of a group creatively recharged and at the height of their power. To this end, in almost every conceivable way, it's the Moderat album that fans have waited six years for.

Souls may be sold separately on the trail for gold, but respect is earned, and Freddie Gibbs continues to rack up the points with another stellar entry in an almost-infallible collection of projects.

Miss Power is a solid instalment from Constance, with real high points across multiple genres. The voice notes are a little heavy-handed, and “YUCK!” risks losing the crowd, but Constance has still shown herself as an exciting voice in indie and alternative pop.

With no fillers in sight, Joesef’s musical talent is consistently reinforced with versatility that never sounds out of place.

At only 32 minutes and housing five interludes, The Age of Pleasure is slim on ideas and music. It would be more successful if she followed the same pattern of zinging between genre and form effortlessly like on Dirty Computer, but this record largely sticks to reggae and funk, leading to a slower, more lax mood.

It’s a definitive project encapsulating body autonomy, queer love, humour and fury, all the more confidently told by a vocal chameleon whose performance stands out amongst the rich production traversing decaying foliage, fizzling suns and AI leaders.

It’s big, brash, and crystal clear, but open-hearted and often evocative, too. At its best, the blown-up production and direct performances produce real stardust.

It is easily El Perro del Mar's most impressive work to date. In lesser hands, such difficult topics might have been rendered in a cliché, one-sided way. But Assbring manages to deliver a heart rending, honest, multifaceted meditation on grief in a tightly-penned ten track album that demands nothing less than our full attention.

Calling this album consistently satisfying might come off like a dig. Quite the opposite, actually. It's the mark of a classic.