As this band is essentially a bunch of like-minded friends getting together, they clearly don’t have any worries about how this record is going to be received. Perhaps they’re resting on the laurels of legendary past projects, but this record neither breaks new ground nor successfully exploits the flow of an old formula.

This is a well thought-out record and is clearly something that has taken several years to coalesce and construct. Though the political edge can sometimes distract from the beauty of the instrumentation, articulation and overall composition, it never gets boring, with little twists and turns that get better upon every listen.

Despite all of the quixotic ups and downs in the tunes the album never loses its sense of purpose or momentum.

24-7 Rock Shit might just be another slap in the face to those claiming the downfall of rock music. But less talking and more listening.

These stellar new songs show that there is still a way to turn that rubble into art as we try and rebuild what once was, and hopefully will be again.

TFCF marks yet another shift in sound for Liars, as Andrew battles with dense samples and new instrumentation to compensate for the loss of former members Aaron Hemphill and Julian Gross. Like some of their greatest records however, TFCF creates a metaphorical space for the listener to explore to excellent effect.

The heartache-on-sleeve lyricism occasionally veers into the melodramatic (“Passed you on a side street / Brushed across your wrist like a razor blade”), but it’s forgiven because of the sheer honesty offered.

His languid delivery belies the very real anxieties that Dark Days + Canapés is scored through with, but the nervy sonic backing absolutely serves to accentuate them; what that leaves us with is an album that's more about personal politics than global ones, but that still feels scored through with the suffocating disquiet of life in 2017.

A Deeper Understanding doesn’t seem to arrive at any conclusions or answers to the questions of self and suffering that Lost in the Dream addressed, since they are inherently unanswerable. For The War On Drugs though, the importance has always lied in the journey, and this powerful record proves that the band has no signs of stopping along the way.

Blondes' third album sees them take several steps forward, delivering a piece that's often mesmeric and always distinctively theirs.

Mellow Waves is the sound of an artist reaching a conclusion, one that is content with its place in music history as it is hopeful of the future.

Fans of garage rock will be familiar with the fuzzed-out results, at its best highlighting the band’s trademark guitar distortion, although at times muffling Grote’s vocals slightly. But their sound has evolved considerably.

The Road Part 1 may just be the album that finally sees Lavelle step away from the shadows of Unkle’s debut. The star power is there, the record beckons to be listened to on repeat, and there's definitely an anticipation of what is to come on The Road Part 2.

As a coherent album, it’s an affecting listen. The samples of dialogue that occasionally flicker behind the dense aural foliage, Burial-like, provide a human counterpoint to this austere, automated music, organic glows that briefly distract from Lopatin’s caustic waves of electronica.

Throughout, Ryder’s ever present lyrical wit is as sharp as it has ever been, but alas ultimately this album never matches his creative heights.

Beast Epic may well sound too tame and house-trained to sustain interest. Keep at it, however, and the album is soon likely to cast a subtle spell.

What’s most striking about Bandwagonesque, though, is how tenderly Gibbard’s treated it; this is undoubtedly the sound of somebody very much in love with the source material.

Both albums [Quazarz: Born On A Gangsta Star and Quazarz vs. The Jealous Machines] deliver uneasy commentary on modern times, and the music that supports it is as equally challenging.

Both albums [Quazarz: Born On A Gangsta Star and Quazarz vs. The Jealous Machines] deliver uneasy commentary on modern times, and the music that supports it is as equally challenging.

By trying to escape the constraints of the tradition-bound folk orthodoxy, Lal and Mike Waterson managed to craft an album of songs that sound like long-lost standards.

Age Of Anxiety sees Hannah Rodgers set a course for her career with a stunningly assured debut brimming with ideas and practically flawless in execution.

Just as the sophomore Arc was, this feels like a transitional curve towards something even greater. Nevertheless, it’s an exciting and very cohesive addition to an increasingly sprawling back catalogue. It expands an overarching narrative that becomes clearer, angrier, and more relatable with each step.

Earl Grey’s range is ambitious, and it's executed with a gratifying versatility that lets it hold its head high when nodding to 60s psychedelic pop, 90s Britpop and sweaty pub indie.

Their ability to approach very specific and often delicate subjects with appropriate levels of silliness makes Eurgh! a fun and relatable listen, especially if a dude has ever pretended to read bell hooks to get you into bed.

Kinder Versions is one of those precious pieces of art that is brand new but feels like it was always here, dragged from the beginnings of the world and rooted in elemental truth.

“Brillo De Facto” prove vaguely purposeful efforts on the surface here, a second, third and fourth listen reveals a band seemingly bereft of inspiration, regurgitating tame Fallisms with--and it really pains your writer to say it--riffs conjuring every middling young rural pub rock band of the early Noughties.

Clearly five CDs is way too much musical despondency to take in on one sitting, but this compilation does comprehensively show that for a genre known for an insular outlook, there was a surprising amount of scope musically from the bands involved.

Throughout this accomplished, assured new record, Lana manages to repeatedly freeze time and capture those fleeting cinematic moments that make us who we are, while reminding us of who we could be.

Add Violence is not an obviously human piece of work; it's electronic to the point of sensory detachment, and certainly never feels like a flesh-and-blood piece.

Every aspect of A Black Mile to the Surface is ambitious and rarely, if ever, does it falter.

Crooked Calypso never sounds outdated or like a couple of crooners growing old, but it certainly sounds graceful.

Moonshine Freeze is an album that sparkles with exuberance and energy, but it also subtly and steadily gives up its deeper secrets. Stables has always had a knack for accomplished melody and intriguing lyrics, and as you dive under the surface, you can’t help but find a wealth of inspiring rewards.

At just over an hour, Eucalyptus is a bit too sprawling, and could have probably been pruned comfortably in half. This may have made it a little bit more accessible and coherent, but given Avey Tare’s boundary pushing mindset, this probably would have missed the point.

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

Smart, engaging lyrics are a widespread and continual theme on McKenna’s initial offering.

Sacred Hearts Club is record of frustration on the listener’s part--we know they’re capable, but Foster the People have again failed to recapture the brand of youthfulness established in their hype-fuelled industry breakthrough. Equally, they fail to mature into an alternative sound with adequate craft to entice attention.

As cynical as it is whimsical, with their fifth album Arcade Fire have bridged the gap between actuality and aspiration.

It’s a natural-sounding progression that confounds the expected developments ‘a guitar band’ should make and instead adds a glorious musical technicolour to a set of songs to soundtrack the summer and beyond.

These unreleased tracks are a nice glimpse behind Prince’s purple curtain, and provide a tantalizing hint at the potential treasures that await us within his Vault. But a discerning ear will easily identify why these songs didn’t quite make the cut for the soundtrack and remained locked away for so long. ... The original Purple Rain soundtrack, however, still sounds fresh, vital, and impassioned.

While they aren’t designed to make pop bangers, they clearly have an ear for the kind of instrumentation and production tricks that enable them to cut to the feeling much faster than naked piano. Let’s hope the future holds a bit more exuberance and a bit less niceness.

With Soft Sound From Another Planet, Michelle Zauner has moved beyond mourning to a solace far more celestial, communicating her grief through these poignant musical prayers aimed directly at the heavens and beyond.

There’s nothing quite as personal as digging through someone’s record collection and God First feels almost exactly like that. From funk and soul to chilled out electronica, the entire spectrum of Steadman’s eclectic record collection has been mined here.

Ke$ha too reaches for a savage base pull, lifting from the low-end, high-reward arena rock spectrum, a place of soaring peaks and valleys that still float above heads even at their most subdued, music meant to be blasted from towering stacks of speakers, so the stage appears bookended by the Willis Tower and the John Hancock Center and that finds its artistic beauty in the sheer size and ferocity of its scope and emotional appeal.

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.

Ultimately Need To Feel Your Love is an unashamedly retro flavoured affair, but it's one that’s worth tasting.

The Thin Black Duke isn’t their finest album--for my money, that’d have to be 1995’s Steve Albini-produced Let Me Be A Woman--but it’s still one of the most thrilling, galvanising records I’ve heard in recent months.

In Hug Of Thunder, Broken Social Scene have managed to master the balance between spiky energy, tender melody and a singular knack for carving out a soaring chorus. Hug Of Thunder has undoubtedly been a long time coming, but it has unequivocally been worth the wait.

Though melodically not as rich as his previous offerings, Boo Boo is just as considered and stylistically coherent as you would expect from a Toro Y Moi record, which, given that it was born out of an identity crisis, is a continued testament to its creator.

This is yet another reinvention for Crutchfield, but this is the first time she’s so palpably given off the sense that she’s at peace with her own thoughts: stronger and more candid for having figured out how to best to take care of herself.

Algiers crafted a unified, cautiously optimistic record that rises above the vitriolic din.

4:44 offers renewed hope for fans who, since Kingdom Come, have felt increasingly disenfranchised by Jay-Z’s loss of touch with his roots and apparent marginalisation of his rap career.

The actual content of OKNOTOK, in terms of what’s new, is hardly justification for any casual listener to pick it up, but the excuse to revisit the record itself would absolutely vindicate the purchase.

Ruinism does, at times, often feel more like an experiment than a cohesive whole; a criticism sometimes levelled at Lynch. ... And yet, there’s something about Ruinism that sucks you into its world. It’s beauty amid chaos and it’s easy to let your inhibitions go and just fall into it.

A Walk With Love and Death re-frames the Melvins’ legacy with newfound aplomb. Whilst perhaps unlikely to win over anyone sitting on the fence up until now this is not merely their most impressively realised effort in many a moon, but also one of the most rewarding listens of the year thus far.

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

Going it alone might not have been the most obvious next step for Pierce, however he has managed to maintain a catchy and consistent sound that justifies that decision.

Though Dust often feels like it’s dreaming, you’re nevertheless consistently reminded of its complexity and Halo’s deep cognisance of the musical language.

Murder is hellishly dark, terminally weird and subsequently very funny.

On Melodrama, Lorde invites all of us to join in her anguished party of the damned, convincing her believers that if we just keep on dancing the ills of the world won’t be able to catch up to us. And for now, that is a faith promising enough to get totally lost in.

On this record it is clear that Staples is making his own assertive artistic statement for these turbulent times, while also firmly establishing himself as one of the brash, singular voices that is going to be leading the music world into the chaotic, unpredictable future.

For Ride to produce such a strong album is a wonderful thing. To compare this to their first two albums is silly--bands and entire genres were formed off the back of those records--but does Weather Diaries sit up there with them? Absolutely.

The record is a fluid blend of Goldie taking reflective looks back on where he’s come from and the myriad influences that have shaped him over the years, alongside a sonic perfectionist’s competitive desire to push the music world forward with his new work.

Despite the eclectic genre-hopping, all of Résistance ends up sounding unmistakably and thrillingly like Songhoy Blues.

The production is perfection, and if you're in to classic pop musical cliches that defined electronic music in that era, Iteration becomes more of a celebration of nostalgia than perhaps a narrative into something deeper. The trip back is kind of fun, even if it is not directly intended.

2017 has had better pop records surely, but hearing Halsey grow as an artist is a uniquely rewarding experience that makes the album’s faults more forgivable and its successes more thrilling.

City Music is, without fail, one of the most quintessential albums of the year so far.

The Gossip may currently be no more, but with Ditto's solo album, we have a replacement that fills the void.

The album works best when you bear in mind the turbulent times that inspired it. Ti Amo has a romantic heart, and Phoenix use it to find the bright spots in a tragic world, without losing sight of the tragedy itself.

With Truth is a Beautiful Thing London Grammar have created a world that knows when to be expansive and when to be introspective, building on their DNA and adding more dextrous, yet suitably restrained arrangements.

At times, Gonzalez’s penchant for dramatizing and confessional nature work almost too well, and you get the feeling you’re hearing something that was only meant to be shared between two people.

The hodgepodge feel is a shame, because at its best RELAXER is euphoric and poignant, at its worst it is frustrating and lumpy.

The production team--Ben Turner and Part Chimp’s Tim Cedar--have done too good a job of capturing the excellent beats and riffs upon which the record is built, and this throws the shortcomings of the vocals into sharper relief. However, when the record works, it works, simultaneously in the senses of cohesion, physical graft and mechanistic industry.

Its significance, its profundity, its sheer exhilarating force will stay with you for far longer than just about anything else you’re likely to hear this year.

At first listen, Sugar at the Gate could be deemed overly saccharine, but the production is so flawless they inevitably give you permission to revel in all of your rose-tinted dreams.

Closing track aside, this is a mostly compelling and wholly fun trip through modern pop with a charismatic protagonist, that hangs together way better than it should.

For a debut The Amazons have crafted an exceptional initial offering.

While edgy, honest and witty observations are made about youth culture, there is a tendency to sprinkle moments of easy listening jazz throughout the record, which is a bit of a downer in a non gothic sense. Still, the brutal honesty and candor are present and much appreciated, one of the few characteristics that truly identifies a Mountain Goats record.

Overall, the most amazing aspect about Somersault is that it still has that bedroom-composed feel.

Hardly earth-shifting, there’s little to scoff at on Different Days but, most importantly, plenty to smile about.

Thematically the album's tight and the catchy hooks and danceable rhythms drip with just the right amount of psychedelic dance-pop sweetness. With infectious grooves, great musical phrases and smooth almost sultry vocals, it all makes for another Saint Etienne record that's extremely hard to dislike.

Her new found confidence comes through in spades here and the end product is a record that shines with a captivating vibrancy.

Its best moments are closer to pop-punk and synth-pop than anything resembling traditional hip-hop.

Its standing as one of the best albums of the 90’s remains undiminished.

Never content with, or intent on, being one thing for too long, Play What They Want thrives on anarchy without chaos.

Ultimately Harry Styles feels comfortable and readily worn-in.

The moment that you think you have She-Devils figured out is when it will catch you off balance and dig its horns in.

It will of course satisfy long time fans, but those that have overlooked the band over the years would be wise to reunite with them for the battle ahead.

Here is an album that embraces every fibre of your being; generous in its awe-inspiring and beautiful moments. It’ll keep you guessing every minute of its hour long run. It’s uniquely Pumarosa and there’s nothing else quite like it.

Stubborn Persistent Illusions finds Do Make Say Think returning as restless and reaching as they’ve ever been.

Ultimately, United States of Horror is more than just a collection of songs. It’s exactly what Ho99o9 intended it to be: a blistering manifesto for a disenfranchised America.

Rocket weaves a patchwork of complex emotions experienced by (Sandy) Alex G and his friends. The album is reaffirming and disheartening at the same time.

He goes some way to making amends with some of his most endearing lyrics yet on You’re Welcome.

With Endless Summer, Sóley has delivered a reminder for us all to emotionally re-set.

Life After Youth is proof that the best days needn't necessarily be the early ones, and marks a strong and exciting return for fans and band alike.

While a covers album can be a pedestrian thing, often about what the artist can do to make their mark on a song or set of songs, Bonnie Prince Billy’s homage to Haggard is so much more than that--it’s reaching out to a ghost, pulling the uninitiated to a plane where it’s possible for Haggard to be renewed and revitalised while all the time being revered and respected.

After Laughter is a deep album with plenty to say. It’s easily the most honest and mature Paramore have sounded yet and also probably, one of the best pop albums you hear all year.

Most of the time, it sounds like each song has been half-written, then forgotten for a bit, then returned to with too little time to create something truly interesting, forcing Mulcahy to fill in the gaps with basically whatever will rhyme with the sketches of lyrics he had originally.

Though there is some tightening up to be done, and a feeling that Murray has some more grand moments like “Misread” waiting, Morningside is a wonderful half hour spent in her company.