While still creating boundless, exceptional fringe-pop, on Platform Herndon is finding countless new ways to hold our attention: deploying a greater sense of narrative, an emboldened melodic arsenal and enough enthusiasm to remind us why she remains a vital voice in peripheral pop.

Overall, though, this is a satisfyingly substantial listen.

Unlike previous Hot Chip records there is arguably no definitive “single”, but a coherent collection of ten songs that burst at the seams with ideas and hooks, and provides some of Hot Chip’s most gorgeous pop songs to date.

Ultimately though, there's more here that will shock than will appease.

Whether it’s dark and driving or elegant and echoing, Vultures is at all points capable of igniting a spark in your gut that’ll burn until there’s nothing left.

At times, it verges on saccharine, but these heart-felt, jubilant moments are so unexpected they are actually endearing.

The band is tighter, more focused, and have honed their sound ever more slightly, tossing in snippets of texture and becoming even leaner.

A work of striking, defiant abstraction that cements Braxton’s position as one of the most interesting composers of modern times, and one that’s more than worth careering off the road to.

Yes, this is serious music, but it blends a mischievous sense of fun and incredulity at its heart.

Hairless Toys is no mere pastiche of a scene; there is no major departure in terms of style for Murphy. It is, however, a surreal and poignant exploration of an iconic cultural movement.

There are moments that remind us that Watson can still work a great melody, but Love Songs For Robots is by no means contains his best work.

Overall, Heyoon is an impressive effort, broad in its scope and ambitious in its reach. Landshapes possess passion in excess, and this is made evident in the unbridled rhythmic ruptures and psychedelic pulses that define the record.

It’s hard-hitting, but behind every tightly honed riff lies a bubbling sense of optimism, and these songs are as resonant as they come.

Whilst there are fragmented glimpses of influence peppered throughout, the record remains very true to And So I Watch You From Afar’s sound; too much at the beginning, but brilliantly later on.

Throughout the album, Broderick conveys the sense that he has a confidence in his songs to the extent that a hitherto unknown (to him) band can bring out their quality. It’s a risk, of course, but the rewards are at times startling

What remains is a definitively good album, albeit not a great one.

This LP is deliciously ambitious and stunning in the production and collation of such varied elements and influences.

Cronin is often at his best when laid bare, and one of MCIII's greatest moments is the relatively sparse closing track "vi) Circle."

Like its predecessor, it’s a little too long, but California Nights reaffirms the things that Crazy for You had me believing and The Only Place had me doubting; that Cosentino is a fine songwriter with a keen ear for melody, that Bruno’s guitar work is the perfect foil for her.

It’s nuanced, subtle and magnetically beautiful.

With II, Metz have done more than enough to cement themselves as the new kings of transgressive hard rock, and that's a crown which is going to be difficult for anyone to wrestle from them.

Some might consider it messy, and the old adage is, life is messy; well, the latter is true, which lends it its exhilarating beauty.

It’s music from an imagined film, not an imaginary film in music; and although laudably ambitious, it goes down as an opportunity missed.

At its finest, The Waterfall balances between mad and magnificent.

By stepping into this unfamiliar territory, he’s not only proved that he’s the dynamic and hugely talented producer that those early EPs hinted at, but he’s ended up just inches away from making that record he’s aiming for.

In the end, few of the songs here approach the heights promised by his debut. But Scott, still just twenty-two, deserves the time and the encouragement to develop what is very clearly a unique voice.

It’s Blur at the top of their game, as they had been, as they should have always been, as they deserve to be.

Deep In The Iris feels like something of a sidestep for the band, a digression that toys with candour while still being dominated by a carefully calculated instrumental palette. Overall, their song structures are more concise than they’ve ever been, and they demonstrate an increasing willingness to draw from popular paradigms.

While the peaks on +- are cloud-scraping highs, there are lows to temper the bliss.

Whether The Early Years will turn out to be a document of Girl Band’s development at a particular time like France 98 appears to have been (the title certainly hints at it), or whether we can expect the album to expand on this particular minimalist palette remains to be seen. Either way, it’s an astonishing starting point.

To be sure, there are some first-rate potential singles hiding amidst the bombast.

This album makes you work, forces you to hit repeat not to relive sweet, instantly gratifying thrills, but to let it root into your brain to understand it better.

The Fine Art of Hanging On isn’t entirely free of faults. Hemming and co's way with the more downcast material is so compelling that, for all their strengths, some of the jauntier material seems lightweight in comparison.

Kindred is a potent reminder of his prowess as a writer, delivered in a quick, forthright burst; it’s not the finest showcase for the sheer diversity he’s capable of as Passion Pit, but it does stake a claim--context considered--for his ongoing importance.

What For? is slightly less varied than previous releases and exist just add to the gestalt of a ‘rock’ album. Thankfully, though, What For? ends on a high point.

The album’s many incongruous textures are sensory experiences: formless and visceral and not always easy to connect to. People of the North produce collisions rather than compositions, and those of us unable to embrace the tumult likely won’t appreciate their music.

Living Fields achieves that rare feat of giving electronic music a beating heart, and is without a doubt one of the best records of its class this year.... And although Portico as musicians are still pushing themselves to new places, they’re not quite pushing the listener as far as they used to.

It’s not for the faint hearted, and its point isn’t to make you smile. But if you’re up for the challenge Damogen Furies is a steaming black shot of adrenaline.

It is both brilliant and uneven. It defies expectations without disrupting the status quo.

Ripe is much less coherently pieced together than a Field Music record--as much as one can be, finding something special in the loose construction around a common idea--but therein lies the magic.

Young Fathers had nothing to prove in 2015, which makes White Men Are Black Men Too such a start to finish joy to listen to. Even the tail end of the record is packed with surprises.

In Darling Artihmetic Conor O'Brien has put together his best album under the Villagers moniker.

Asunder, Sweet and Other Distress’ is good enough, by post-rock standards. But it really falls short of the bar that GY!BE set themselves before they took a break from the game.

Consistently intriguing and occasionally glorious, Not Real feels like a genuine step forward.

We were promised an album of violent thrills, but we just have The Prodigy on auto-pilot here.

Cerulean Salt managed the compelling trick of being so devoutly personal it felt universal. It's possible that in moving to obscure this personal element in her music, Crutchfield has found an even more profound way to make it clear that we're all on this Ivy Tripp together.

Overall, Trick is reminiscent of those rare enjoyable hangovers--contemplative, contented and tranquil. And like those hangovers, it is unusual and a delight.

You could argue that Dark Red is a bit samey in places, but that's kind of the point.

Fast Food isn’t as labyrinthine as her debut--exits are neon-lit fire escapes rather than barricaded doors--but it is just as powerful.

Theatrical, impassioned, and occasionally heartbreaking, Beat The Champ distills the very essence of classic Mountain Goats into another compelling album.

It’s sharp, the beats are punchier, and by utilising similar methods to production as techno, he's made his best album yet.

Where Culture of Volume excels it is a progression and refinement of prior work. But for all its ambition, it’s a showreel of promise and potential rather than a cohesive whole.

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.

These eight tracks will reward familiar fans but Cohen’s music is worthy of a much wider audience.

I’m almost certain that this project won’t be as critically or commercially as successful across the board as Doris was. But I doubt Earl really cares; the art comes first, and as a result, Earl’s produced an album that’s concise, consistent and cerebral.

Their second album continues the work of the first, a yardstick for the heavy guitar sound, and is in its own way as hard hitting, visceral and effortlessly brilliant.

It’s hard to find fault with Bashed Out; timeless and completely modern all at once, Stables might have taken a little bit of time to hit her stride with This Is The Kit but this combination of players has helped her realise a vision of sorts: it’s as lucid a record as you’ll hear all year.

In confronting their own personal heartbreaks and terrors, she and her bandmates have created their most engaging and universal album to date.

Still, despite its light-handed approach, Carrie & Lowell strikes with a sort of urgency unparalleled across the composer's 15-year career. Each song feels like a demon Sufjan simply had to face sooner than later.

What Short Movie does do is remind us of the poise with which Marling carries her prodigious ability as a songwriter, and reaffirm that she’s genuinely ambitious, too; she sounds excited again, and so should we be.

Their fresh, invigorated sound arrives like cascading droplets of water from a waterfall whose source you’ve yet to locate through the mist. And with Lease Of Life, the effervescent Scottish crew has once again served up a vibrant collection of gems that will still sound polished long after the glimmer of this era begins to show signs of fading.

LoneLady has reimagined herself as the star of a glitter laden dancefloor, the lasers excitedly pinging from the mirror balls hanging from above. By doing this, she’s gone and made the finest pop record of 2015 so far.

The Ark Work pays tribute to Hunt-Hendrix’s dogged desire to push listeners’ buttons. Sure, this could all be a massive wind-up, but to these ears Liturgy seem to have melted down the traditional ingredients of black metal and crafted it into something unyielding, unique and ultimately engrossing.

The complexity in the arrangements of some of the harmonies on this record show them off individually and their obvious synergy as sisters.

Same As You isn’t going to be the most exciting release from Polar Bear you’ll hear, but it is a solid and entirely welcomd release from a band who rarely put a foot wrong.

In other words, Cortar Todo is yet another outstanding release from one of the most original musical acts today.

Had Primrose Green been recorded in the era it's influenced by, it could well be among the records Ryley Walker would now be drawing inspiration from; high praise indeed.

Many of these songs have been in the band’s live repertoire for years. But after recording them on lo-fi equipment and scrapping the results, it turns out to be a great pleasure that the band decided to embrace the opportunities of a new studio environment and produced the fantastical and empiricist take on their trademark noise rock sound.

Despite the odd misstep, it deserves to be lauded as the band’s finest hour as well as a genuinely bold adventure into the cosmos of heavy rock.

The difficult second album never sounded so effortlessly good.

It’s one of the most complex pop albums of recent years, and like any great steamroller mind, she can’t quite contain herself.

The result is a really excellent album: uncompromising, thoughtful, and with enough buried complexities to keep people arguing for years to come.

There is no chance of someone walking away from Eat, Pray, Thug similarly un-enlightened; the political suite, as mentioned above, is far too direct for that. What makes it unique, however, and uniquely Hima; to be specific, it's that it manages to be both obstinate and intelligent, outspoken but sly; one could not imagine anything but that rubber-and-sandpaper voice being as such.

He may be pretentious, narcissistic and borderline offensive, but you have to hand it to Chilly--what he is doing here is pretty damned clever.

In word and sound Little Neon Limelight is an unashamedly backward-looking record, and it's all the better for it.

Sometimes is the work of probably the best lyricist writing today, and roundly deserves to be an album for the ages. If it’s not, that’s only because she’ll have found a way to top it next time around.

Parton did exactly as he set out to do, bridging a self-recognized gap in his songwriting habits to produce a melodically dense record packed with insatiable hooks with minimal sacrifice to the band's signature sense of nostalgia-infused momentum.

For All My Sisters is a thoroughly enjoyable record even if taken only at face value, but more importantly, it’s a potent reminder of just how crucial The Cribs really are.

This isn’t quite that fantastic album we wanted and we know--at least hope we know--Brock and company have in them; however, it’s enough to prompt the hope that the axles are greased well enough now to deliver it next time around.

Some of the exhaustion on Goon is a lack of emotional range. The continued packaging and shrinking of love and misery for commercial consumption, something Jesso Jr. doesn't do cynically, but he does it so well and so often.

Taken as a whole though, Waxing Romantic is a warm, enjoyable listen; one that suggests Bretzer has a voice worth hearing and all of his own.

In short, they’ve honed their craft and matured without eschewing their admirably innate pop sensibility.

Rebel Heart is chaotic. It’s often amazing, and occasionally crap. If she deleted half of its tracks, it’d be the comeback record she was hoping for.

The artistry is unquestionable, but ultimately the indulgence of the album’s creation seems to have fogged Invention’s original vision.

What follows is a highlight in an album of standouts.

Swervedriver’s knack for making Americana-tinged rock from the outside looking in remains totally undiminished.

As an elegy to Hayes, Era is a beautifully crafted tribute to their friend, but it’s also a statement of intent, which is to keep moving and create music that mixes the ups with the downs, euphoria with despondency, in a voice that is their own.

Whilst there are echoes of the bluster of Florence and the Machine and the minimalist soul of Jessie Ware here, Soft Control is a distinctive take on modern pop and an album with crossover appeal.

Aureate Gloom makes for a confused, scary, frustrating wallow into the psyche of a man I’m starting to fear getting to know any better.

It’s not packed with bangers, and the vocal tracks are a let-down, but as a fresh statement from a band that has promised and delivered much in the past, it’s exciting to hear them go down this route.

For what is a hugely bold manoeuvre, he has carried it out with much aplomb.

This is a frustrating second record, but it does prove that To Kill A King have the potential to be a far better band.

The vast majority of Music In Exile features the sparse but richly nuanced sound of a supremely well-oiled band with one foot in ancient traditions and the other firmly in the here and now doing their intoxicating live thing in a room whilst a recorder's switched on.

Although the sometimes scattergun approach to genre-hopping has its drawbacks, what’s great about Policy is the future possibilities it allows Will Butler.

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.

In the end, another eternity leaves us somewhere in the middle, to contemplate the excellent and the bland.

A tippy, interstellar journey all the more worthwhile taking.

Reset is an enjoyable 42 minutes of dystopian aphorism and boasts more dense textures and a keener ear for juxtaposition than its predecessor. It's a definite progression; just don't expect it to tear down the firewalls of GCHQ any time soon.