Rolo Tomassi are a band still looking to push themselves further forward creatively, while remaining just as focused on retaining the dramatic core of their sound that has long set them apart from any contemporaries.

Like Francis Bacon, Young Fathers borrow inspiration to create gloriously realised works of unique art, which arouse debate, revulsion and awe in varying measures.

The berserk, nihilistic energy that made Andrew W.K.’s name is gone. In its place is something more affirming but more ponderous. Song after song goes for big, anthemic goosebump moments, but the melodies aren’t memorable enough and the sentiment, even as sincerely as it is delivered, feels forced.

All Nerve won’t please anybody looking for the reckless abandon of old, but surely nobody who ever loved this band will be in that frame of mind. Instead, they’ll be ushering these old favourites in from the cold with warmth and empathy. This records sounds like a quiet defeat; really, it’s a triumphant cacophony.

Clean showcases what it is to be stuck in a quicksand of self-loathing, and have it stop you from seeing your own accomplishments and more importantly, being proud of them. If Allison isn’t already chuffed with this debut, she should be.

Rare Birds is practically bulging with strong material. It’s telling that the album’s strongest moment--the desolately soaring closer “Mulholland Queen”--is also its least densely ornamented: on this form, Wilson’s songs require no extra polish or decorations to compel. Despite its flaws, Rare Birds is a rare find.

[A] fine album. If melancholy had a soundtrack, it would be Mint Field’s De Las Luces.

It’s an admirable essay in re-invention, brought about by necessity certainly, but no less successful for all that.

In short, the world can never have enough albums like this. Not only have Public Access TV added to the run of great New Wave-tinged pop records of the past few year or so--from Phoenix’ Ti Amo to Spoon’s Hot Thoughts, what they’ve also done is make an album that sounds like the more metropolitan end of New Wave, encompassing disco, punk and 80s pop.

Though the easy-to-follow lyrics and even easier-to-follow melodies throughout Great Big Blue make it ripe for every summer playlist under the sun, the result is of genuine collaboration and friendship, giving it a charm beyond its obvious summery sheen.

Hundred Acres’ environment can occasionally border on the too-cozy and tender, and, as has been the case on previous records, certain songs simply wind down more than they come to any conclusion. Still, Carey ably shepherds the whole sentimental journey.

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

In All At Once, the Garden State guitar heroes show they have as much, if not more, to say than ever before.

This is a band that isn’t odd for odds sake. Every single crash, bleep, smack and ring (insert other onomatopoeias here) is carefully placed with love, care and attention. In short, it’s a fascinating debut from a band that want to the push the boundaries of what pop can be.

Straddling both shoegaze and post-punk is what makes Moaning both enthralling and frustrating, a hint to the cavernous thrill they're capable of though also threatening to oversaturate and lose themselves in their own dirge. Here's to hoping it doesn't end up enveloping them completely.

“I Shouldn’t Have Said That”, the pummeling psych diptych “Return of Witchcraft” and “Witchcraft”, and every other corner of Eggland find them in their sweet spot: blunt pop purity bolstered by Big Muff pedals and a sense of not-quite-reckless abandon.

This really is just a trio of mates having a bloody good time celebrating their heroes while making something dazzlingly new.

There’s no doubt that Pianos Become The Teeth are fully aware of where they want to be; all that’s left is a little more refinement and consistency to get them to that point.

Stately, solemn, slow-burning and seriously beautiful, most of The Two Worlds isn’t far removed from its predecessor’s intimate templates.

Though dark times have inspired and shaped this work, there is light and hope in its message of communication, achieving a real sense of togetherness.

Delivering on both slow-burn emotional complexity and quick-hit thrills, Sir is a welcome return for an underrated group whose influence on contemporary pop music is often overlooked.

Thanks to the fact that Car Seat Headrest is now a band rather than a solo recording project, there’s more spit and polish to the songs, a level of gloss that Twin Fantasy really benefits from.

Beautifully-measured collaboration between two venerable avant garde artists.

Although he may be the keystone that holds this record together, Russell seems more comfortable behind the boards, letting the talents of his collaborators take centre stage. His tight, percussive productions lay the perfect foundations for the all-star cast to take flight, filling in the gaps with trickling melodies and expertly picked samples.

Jansch's future Pentangle bandmate John Renbourn guests on second guitar and the guitarists' mainly instrumental, jazz- and blues-influenced duo album Bert & John (also from 1966) closes this hugely impressive set on another high note.

It’s not as instantly accessible an album as the band’s relatively recent classics Majesty Shredding (2010) and I Hate Music (2013), but in many ways it’s a more important one. It’s the sound of an essentially middle-aged band firing out a clutch of missile missives directed at the dark heart of modern America (in the absence of many younger bands fulfilling that role) and carrying it off majestically.

There’s still something fun and interesting to be found in what the band do and Little Dark Age is proof that they’re nowhere near done with inter dimensional meddling.

Their third album, Room Inside The World, seems far too safe compared to their past efforts.

The album is undoubtedly going to end up on many writers’ end-of-year lists, and it’s only February. Remy and her co-conspirators have truly set the bar for great records in 2018, by drawing from the best elements of nocturnal power from bygone eras. It’s all here--just wait and see.

Sensitive production brings out the best of DeCicca’s imaginative style, with effective touches here and there of gospel choir and a few intelligently-restrained jazz bass rhythms on an album of self-effacing quality.

Last Night... is an album that you can look to as a fitting memoriam of what made Wild Beasts truly great: fearlessness to be who they are, and do it all on their own terms. Even their retirement.

For the most part, Go Dig My Grave shows an appreciation that steers clear of sober reverence; these are well-worn and world-weary songs to be enjoyed, not artefacts to be handled in a sterile environment with special gloves. Sometimes, however, these reworkings miss the mark.

Romantically confused, Wasser has drawn strength, inspiration and guidance from people through music to better understand relationships on this album. Damned Devotion is a brilliant self-help resource.

With Always Ascending’s sharp menace and mad genius, Franz have rescaled the mountain and made it back to the top.

It is characteristic of the Brewis’ distinct methods that Open Here can feel so cumulative yet still reinventive.

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.

The songs that work best as standalone statements outside of the album’s narrative still have themes of resilience.

If you buy into Brian Fallon’s rock classicist worldview, Sleepwalkers is an enjoyable record. Just don’t ask for much beyond that.

The themes tackled on BLOOD have been tackled a million times, so the album is much more reliant on how it tells the story than what the story is. Luckily, how it tells the story more than makes up for the story itself. Milosh’s vocals are as beautiful as ever, and the lush tones that paint the album wash over you like a silk bedsheet.

It's the beginning of the 2018 and talk of albums of the year right now is obviously churlish, but on Microshift we're hearing a band hitting their sweet spot with such an effortless swagger that we're sure this is a contender.

Con Todo el Mundo feels like a record to be enjoyed in transit, towards somewhere sunny, optimistic, exciting.

Along with the help of his session-artist buddies, Ty Segall has rebirthed himself on an album of both biblical proportions and grand artistry. Segall’s voice has never sounded so necessary.

Overall, this is an impressively diverse set of tracks, Evelyn has demonstrated his capability of working in a myriad of genres with a number of collaborators, yet in its entirety, the record feels slightly lost.

Knowing What You Know feels like a journey, one that’s filled with mountainous climbs and treacherous lows, each to be consumed with reckless abandon, because that’s exactly what Marmozets are--a force to be reckoned with.

It’s astounding stuff from a modern master.

Semicircle is enthusiastic and a little rough around the edges, although this is absolutely intentional.

Dream Wife is a fierce finger to the patriarchy for a fresh and socially aware generation.

Could It Be Different? carries on exactly where they left off. In their songwriting, The Spook School have always merged transformational politics with an anthemic quality, and the LP's opener is no exception.

Though longtime fans of Porches--or any of Maine’s work--will never get another Pool, The House makes for a fulfilling, if not occasionally excellent listen and addition to Maine’s discography.

I can feel you creep into my private life never feels worthy or didactic, partly because its component doubts and sorrows nonetheless conspire to a joyous union.

It’s a classic high-quality, well-arranged and passionate album from First Aid Kit, but this time--it’s not so innocent.

Every song leaps to action, be it immediately or with a tentative build, capturing the essence of what’s fun about life. There’s even some tasteful saxophone littered throughout.

Be it a preemptive rebuke or not, Snares Like a Haircut is assured on its own terms, showing No Age comfortable with music for its own sake.

Whip smart, furious and, most importantly, fun, Songs of Praise is the first essential album of 2018. And what an album it is.

Wrong Creatures has just enough of what made BRMC right, and a few tantalisingly brief flourishes to boot, but it's a balance that can only be struck for so long.

There's no hidden agenda here, the intention is to make as much noise as quickly as possible, and it sure does that, there's no deviation, no clever studio trickery, just in your face ear affrontery. It's a shattering, but ultimately thrilling listen.

There are a decent amount of genuinely stirring moments on this album to prevent it from falling completely flat. It’s interesting and occasionally shines but, front-ended with its strongest tracks, Two Trains ultimately runs out of steam.

War & Leisure is an album with a generous helping of highlights, not least because of Miguel’s enviable vocal versatility and affinity for dramatic songcraft, an irresistible combo that sees him playing both hero and villain in his own fantasy.

More than ever, new guitar bands have to have a hook to differentiate them from the masses, and it’s the combination of Lardner’s witty company and QTY’s idiosyncratic approach to a well-loved sound that makes their debut a delight to spend time with.

The LP is fourteen songs long, but never feels laboured. This is probably because in true indie pop tradition, most of the songs are under three minutes. With their jangling, sometimes-spiky guitar sounds and indie pop hooks; they wouldn’t sound out of place on the iconic C86 mix tape.

While Finding Shore certainly isn’t the most accessible of albums, it’s one that’s likely to stay with its listeners long after the dull rumble of its closing moments have faded in to nothing.

The Visitor excels in the kind of attention to detail and musical imagination that's eluded Young in recent years. If the backing of California quartet Promise of the Real (featuring Willie Nelson's songs Lukas and, when playing live, Micah) has brought to mind a cut-price Crazy Horse on their previous two collaborations with Young, the band are superbly versatile here.

James’ stark vocal delivery resonates on both an emotional and socio-political level on Tribute to 2, and, although he's is begging the world to unite and come together--something that, in the current political landscape of 2017, seems damn near impossible--at least music fans from all around the globe can agree on something: James has never sounded so elegant and in control.

There is a feeling that at times the record dips into repetition, particularly around the mid-point, though there’s no doubting that Omni’s intricate and deadpan approach is worth a visit for even the most casual of bystanders.

Hayward’s kinetic drumming and Moore’s topographic guitar sprawl recurringly align and separate, speed up and slow down together, in what start to feel like nearly identifiable patterns. Such shapes may be just figures in the clouds, but they catch the imagination as they drift by.

While Tove Lo is confident in her music, she reveals a lot about how she feels and how she deals with problems. There is a level of vulnerability that leaves the listeners feeling like they are experiencing the highs and lows of a party lifestyle right along with her.

It’ll doubtless polarise his core fanbase, but amongst those who recognised his capacity for following an exploratory bent as far back as “Setting Sun” in 1996, the response will be a pithy one--“about time”.

The scale of Van Etten’s ambition--musical and otherwise--is now such that we’re never likely to see her make a wholesale return to this kind of territory; as a document of her songwriting origins, though, (It Was) Because I Was in Love is fascinating.

Björk’s Utopia is as much about attempting to reach paradise as it is setting up camp there. On her longest album to date, she has given herself the space to embrace the natural world as well as continuing to reckon with her past.

With its less harsh sounding vocals, it [Winter Weather] is the perfect closer, further demonstrating Khan’s desire for a more mature sound on his solo debut.

This highly visual, lyrically-driven mode of storytelling might not appeal to Baths fans who appreciate the minimal vocals and delicate restraint of his earlier work. ... Romaplasm, however, is clearly an album made by an artist who has made the choice to create in a way that works for them, blending innovative electronica with the storytelling of a comic book artist to produce a truly innovative LP.

While their new LP isn’t a beaming success, Ascending a Mountain of Heavy Light is indeed a push for change within the metal community and with that simple act of newness, The Body and Full of Hell put their own personal stamp on things.

For the most part, a palpable sense of uncertainty permeates the lower-key proceedings, with the eerie strings of the title track proving a winsome kick down the rabbit hole into a place populated by unease and confusion.

To give some credit, the duo do play around with genre here, dabbling with electro, metal and hip hop across its tracks, but fail to make it cohesive.

Just like Cohen, Devoldere is a fanatic for detail. The instrumentation and vocal delivery on Warhaus meet perfectly in the middle.

Out Her Space is Introducing’s twisted older sibling. Though some may be perturbed by the departure from Introducing’s Nashville direction, those open to Blau’s versatility as a composer and songwriter will find much aural stimulation in the united multiplicity of his works.

The substance to his music however means Anthropocene is consistently listenable, and at times immensely enjoyable. Exploring one of the most dismal subjects we as a race can face, it’s nonetheless a joy.

The title track stomps and spins with strands of the Turkish music influence the ensemble collected with their 2013 album, Dalmak. The almost-finale “Northeast Kingdom” pleads for peace and respite, but Mechanics of Dominion is aware of how uncertain any meaningful resolution appears.

Less obsessive (and deep-pocketed) fans will be absolutely fine with the 2-CD set, but repetition aside, the deluxe set certainly offers multiple delights.

As a crucial companion piece to her LPs proper, Phases achieves the rare distinction of must-have odds-and-ends album.

On paper Milano should be a mess, but it's a resounding triumph. Luppi has crafted a fast-paced and fashionable record which taps into the lifeblood of his beloved Milan; seductive, hedonistic and super stylish.

Unsurprisingly, there’s an overarching sense of melancholy, but the more you listen, the more you realise that she’s deftly poetic with her words in a way that’s clearly inspired by some of the great writers of the 20th Century.

Extensive, charming and compelling--Savage Young Dü is one of the best archival compilations of the year.

She sticks to familiarity and abides heavily to it--something worth noting, but while the album battles to make its way, her efforts aren’t entirely lost.

Whilst The Thrill of it All isn’t a complete departure from the artist we all know and love, it is clear that Smith is in a new phase of his career and is encompassing what it means to be a ‘soul’ singer.

The 25th anniversary reissue offers a disc of live tracks, and a full set of demos and early versions--interesting historical documents for the completest. But the real joy of the reissue is how it prompts those of us who have moulded ourselves around it, or had it play for years almost subconsciously in the distance, to reconsider its place in our lives: to hold it up to the light and see that it is miraculous.

Stranger, is a fully formed welcome to the staying power of Lean, and this third chapter is unlike anything he’s done before, while simultaneously being everything he’s done before.

Here we have him boldly stating his desires, aligning himself with our baser nature. Whether this is a sign of a lack of subtlety or a brave forward step is, of course, up for debate but that clash of the brutal and the human, the savage and the sensual is certainly compelling.

There’s nary a misstep to note here. Schreifels, drummer Alan Cage, bassist Sergio Vega and guitarist Tom Capone resist taking a victory lap and come out ahead, still sounding like themselves.

Each of his records could have come from any year from the past twenty five, to the next twenty five. There is the sound of now, the sound of then, and the sound of Dave Clarke.

Simultaneously more overtly experimental yet more easily accessible - even the most cacophonous warble here is rooted in strong melodies--than Holden's past output, The Animal Spirits is a triumph that makes rigidly electronic textures seem so last year.

You’ve not heard William Patrick Corgan this way before--and if you just let Ogilala do its thing you’ll find a completely pleasant journey that will envelop you happily.

With Phantom Brickworks Bibio has not only created a record that stands apart from his other Warp albums to date, but has cemented his mastery of the atmospheric; creating an album that can imprint on a listeners’ surroundings like few others.

Shamir represents what it is to be an outsider, with each of Revelation’s nine tracks teaching us to face our insecurities and embrace our weirdness. Even in the darkest times, Shamir’s brilliance continues to shine through

It’s a treat to hear all these iconic and sometimes underrated themes again, even going so far as to cover Ennio Morricone’s ominous theme for The Thing and Jack Nitzsche’s grand, celestial Starman theme.

7 Nights is a strong R&B album, but it just doesn’t have the same impact of 7 Days. Each track seamlessly blends into the next, making it a listen that can easily pass you by if left to its own devices.

7 Days takes care of business, providing 11 tracks of club-ready beats, guaranteed to get any crowd hyped.

The Dusk in Us continues to show the depth that Converge can hold below the abrasive sounds. They don’t create chunks of music to be instantly digested, they create art which is meant to take you prisoner in a darkness that will ultimately show you more than you ever realised.