The Jesus and Mary Chain are trapped in amber on Damage and Joy, untouched by the very different musical climate to the one they last sent an album out into. Good job, then, that it contains far more hits than misses.

It certainly sounds like black and white and red, but while it’s quite clearly in a better way than a sunburnt penguin, its attempts at something completely dramatic and bold aren’t quite as successful as Spielberg’s iconic scene.

Bleached don’t really break away from the tried-and-true pop-rock template here. When it’s done quite this energetically, though, it’s hard to care--especially when the sense of catharsis is so palpable.

the New York duo have shown that they indeed own that genre because well, it’s their own genre. Thankfully, the same feelings are still mustered with new offering Magnifique--and then some.

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

With Krieg und Frieden (Music for Theatre), Apparat has created yet another awesome dimension to his diverse catalogue of releases.

Lightning Dust’s giving close attention to details of composition, resisting the temptation to stretch material or ideas too thinly, has brought about an album of ambition and maturity, of subtle shades of darkness and light, of promise fulfilled.

The album is best viewed as an extension of his physical artwork rather than musical endeavours: dark abstractions and brutally grim representations of mood rather than straightforward instancy.

Bitter Rivals' more diffuse nature seems to have prevented them from impressing their personality on their music in quite the same manner; it’s difficult to rate it as highly as a result, but this remains a solid effort.

There’s a huge amount of solace to be found in this album--one that, amidst the chaos, taps you gently on the shoulder, and takes you away somewhere nicer.

Simultaneously concerned with uncomplicated nostalgia, yet quietly indulging in the slightly-less-conventional. It makes for an intriguing introduction, and a much needed reprieve for supergroups everywhere.

This is a really surprising record, and one that you really have to spend time with to let it fully hit ya.

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

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

Walrus convincingly display a sense of contentment on Cool To Who, guided by a sound redolent of late-'60s/early '70s songwriting; a format that, while not revolutionary in and of itself, is executed with enough style and supple brevity to denote an increasingly honed command of structure in their output.

It’s a charming listen, rich in intricacies and possessing a deep warmth and reverence for the original material. Musically, it’s not going to change the world.

Edge of The Horizon rarely moves away from the mid-tempo switch which does make you scream out for a euphoric ‘Paper Romance’ or ‘Cards To Your Heart’ moment, so effective on their last album.

No matter your view, Scaled And Icy is Twenty One Pilot’s at their most fun, and while it’s not a home run, as a society it’s a time for exploration and change, and the duo have pasted the pastel colours on heavy ready for when the sunshine decides to grace us with its presence.

Despite its nostalgia-centric title, Time Flies is very much grounded in the present in respect to Brown’s approach to catharsis in her personal life, juxtaposed with escapism in a celebration of surviving adversity – a symbolic, innocuously upbeat chapter in Ladyhawke’s discography.

Showing off the intricacy – the moodiness and magic – the band are so excellent at creating, and building to the heights promised on earlier tracks, it’s the perfect note to end on. It doesn’t feel quite final, but it feels like an appropriate moment to pause.

If it's nostalgic, unapologetically pop inspired music you like, then this is certainly the album for you.

In places Toro Y Moi succeeds effortlessly in adapting the mainstream for his own alternative means, but frustratingly, at times is only as meaningful as few comedy jabs of the ’90s dance demo button.

She’s infectious on stage, and her videos and performances are all planned and conceptualized. But THINK LATER is a little too hollow, a little too cohesive, to make any big statements right now.

Like all good bands, the front man is only as good as his team. And listening back to Cobblestones EP, the congruency and closeness that has matured between the four-piece on Blue is magnetic.

The Altar is BANKS at her most confident and most empowered; tough and willing to accept her imperfections without a care for who’s listening.

Cerulean, while technically masterful, is just a fine, pleasant dream to pass the time.

It’s a very well-rounded EP--every box is ticked--and we’re left clamouring for more when the dust has settled.

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.

The album as a whole is a sure-fire sonic adventure. Allowing creativity to take the reins, Howard has reinvented himself with his latest installment through a blend of storytelling and evocative sonic fillers. Now, he is one of the UK’s most naturally talented songwriters, with an added sense of style.

It deceptively makes you think there’s not much happening here but is in fact a highly complex thing that needs care and attention, only then do you realize we have been offered Rostron’s heart on a plate.

For fans of expertly crafted summer toe-tappers, its gifts are ample enough for a summer fling, although perhaps few will be looking for more.

It’s not derivative, it’s devotional.

You have Gibbard’s forlorn yet criticising voice, the personal yet accessible lyrics, the melodic yet clashing guitars, which all create an incredibly atmospheric record, brimming with nostalgia, defeat--and hope.

What makes Jaded & Faded great is the fact that you can still be stuck humming the buzzsaw riffs or cooing a vocal line to yourself hours or days later.

Constantly waiting for that ever-impending explosion of mind-expanding neo-psychedelic glory, Comfort dissipates feeling hackneyed and burdened by lacklustre platitudes despite the rare flicker of hesitant brilliance.

Need Your Light is a heck of a lot of fun while it lasts and, though there’s little to make you crawl back to it time and time again, it has that same appeal of flicking through a photo album and getting the rush of nostalgia for times long gone and, for that alone, it’s worth something.

Reservoir maintains mostly a mellow and melancholic vibe throughout, but its charm is undeniable.

It's no surprise that the best tracks on the album are taken from her two excellent EPs that came before, full of that experimental, genre busting pop she wanted to achieve. The rest of the album, though, fails to truly inspire and stir up those same emotions in the listener that Sey so clearly has in her voice.

There aren’t any outright failures on Full Circle--Bernardout and her bandmates Dom Goldsmith and Arthur Delaney are too talented to turn out a subpar project--but there are moments that simply lack staying power.

Little Mix’s candidness throughout is admirable, even thrilling in its bravery.

Nubiyan Twist and their cast of collaborators are so adept at what they do. Bouncing off each other, and melding genres while still always feeling like a Nubiyan Twist record. Creating an album that’s satisfying in it’s playful and oh so funky breadth, if not it’s depth.

This certainly isn’t one for Mumford & Sons fans. There’s no big, foot-stomping, sing-along moments here; instead, the song arrangements are sumptuously layered, built on many little, delicate, moving parts, masterfully put together by producer Blake Mills.

If David Gordon Green can get performances this good out of Prince Avalanche stars Paul Rudd and Emile Hirsch then he’s on to an absolute winner--Explosions In The Sky and David Wingo are already there.

The record is an amazing first stride for Amateur Best, one that’s both full of pop sensibilities and avant-garde experimenting.

The songs are beautifully crafted, shimmering with an alluring magic and aura, existing in their own time and space.

Filled with high-octane rock-infused instrumentation, demanding lyrics and strong vocal performances, Garageband Superstar is a truly impressive debut from the Isle of Wight's own brightly burgeoning scuzz-pop superstar.

Views, like Take Care and Nothing Was the Same before it, is brilliant in places and thoroughly bloated in others.

Life After Defo is a truly captivating debut, with a poignancy that lasts far beyond the first listen.

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.

There’s plenty to admire of Swift – her voice, her curiosity, her ability to mine emotional nuance – but that’s been true of every Swift era. What’s missing here is the glue. Similar to Red, some tracks just don’t mesh.

It’s a foot-tappingly bundle of disco-pop that is not ashamed of its influences and refuses to bore for even the shortest of moments.

While there are certainly times on Without Your Love where Greenspan’s over-application of eerie temperaments and lofty layers of sampling can start to drag--the found sound, musique concrète of ‘Misunderstood’ or ‘Crossed Wires’’ uninteresting non-sequitur coming immediately to mind--these rarely detract from what is, at its core, a fascinating, contemplative and forward-thinking collection.

Cutting Up The Present Leaks The Future is a refreshing listen. Its lo-fi aesthetic, invigorating guitar approach, nuanced throwbacks, heartfelt lyrics and general quality (among many other fascinating titbits) all make for a lovely record.

Baio’s third and latest doesn’t drastically divert from type as such but presents his songwriting at its most concrete in pace, malleability and variety.

Taken as a whole, this is a perfectly enjoyable album if you want your music to be nostalgic, friendly and accessible. If you’re a jaded rock fan looking for a newish band and a reliable sound, Starcrawler are for you. For everybody else, proceed with caution.

On their debut, MM@TA have cemented themselves as champions of olden days pop punk, repackaged and remodelled for the new generation.

On balance, Music For Dogs kind of ends up resembling a bag of chocolate misshapes: weird-looking and questionable, but still somehow oddly loveable.

Calico Review refers to a type of pattern in which a range of colours merge into one; as much as it may frustrate Allah-Las, the palette of their Calico Review remains a similar hue, but their ability to paint brilliant art with it remains intact.

Pray For Rain sees Pure Bathing Culture taking a step towards an elevated form of the type of leftfield pop the band produced during their first outing, and in doing so, they’ve created an album wrought with subtle nuances and big ideas.

The mystery of Alex Cameron continues to be unsolved, but after Forced Witness, his identity and place in the indie world seems to be much clearer, and at times, all the more impressive.

They’re Zayn’s stories but they’re shared in such an honest, straightforward yet compelling manner that they feel like your own.

It’s uplifting, motivating and unashamedly simple (which, frankly, is it’s major charm).

Smilewound’s gleeful, weird-pop eclecticism builds up the goodwill to cover any lull.

At 40 minutes, this is an easily digestible, at times highly enjoyable and always playfully inventive listen.

Dry The River have here proven that they hold their own distinct niche in our record collections, and are settling in to it nicely.

By letting their political frustration run away with them, they’ve carved out their own identity and worn it on their sleeves; the results are engrossing.

It falls into a very similar trap to the band’s last album, which started with a track that sounded promisingly fresh (“The Singer Addresses His Audience”) before immediately lapsing into Decemberists-by-numbers (“Cavalry Captain”).

Sadly, so much of Somewhere Else exists in such a haze that it’s difficult to really find anything to sink one’s teeth in to.

Authenticity and honesty are the hallmarks here of a painful and unsettled rock record. It’s not hard to figure out why his own name was the ideal stage to sing from.

It’s 17 near-perfect minutes that whisk you from sparkling seas across soft, white sands to smoky late-night bars beneath torrential rain, full of soul notes that lift the rafters. It’s a tiny, little, beautiful adventure.

For all its dense silliness, Music For Insomniacs really is quite a genuinely discomfiting experience.

Dälek have stepped out just enough to create an album that sits comfortably within the band's discography, and deserves to be cherished.

When it's all done, you can hear that this is a good band, doing some good things but I wonder if with more focus or investment it might bear greater results.

In all, it's pretty confusing. But with Mandela Effect, Gonjasufi has created a truly stimulating album that will be quite unlike any other released this year.

The album drifts by comfortably and could benefit from a few surprises, both tonally and musically. However, there are definite standout moments, such as “Oh Oh” and the bouncy “Angel”.

Promising and full of potential, the boys have delivered and exceeded expectations, it’s safe to say that their intoxicating indie rock cuts are here to stay.

At times the record’s pleasantness feels forced, part of a calculated game plan. But at its best, Out Among The Stars is a gentle reminder of how sweet the everyman missives of the Man In Black could be.

A peerless and affecting album, from start line to finish.

These songs, and others such as “UFO” are pretty much straight indie tracks, but it’s when they utilise electronics that Stars Are Our Home really comes alive.

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

This is state-of-the-art pop music with an irresistible sense of rough and tough feminine glamour. Do not miss out.

It’s refreshing that the most appealing parts of Whorl are when the duo abandon exactly the musical nuances they’re known for. At the very least they should be applauded for exploring new territory, even if the overall record is not entirely satisfying.

It’s emotional, it’s hooky and it’s loveable, and as a straight-up folk record for those who’ve never heard Hoop’s sounds before, it ticks a great many boxes. But, alas, as dazzling as the album regularly is, it is a fan’s record.

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

Lost in Alphaville is sometimes a little too adrift in its own world and its own thoughts of sound to make sense today.

Although this debut LP might have its weaknesses, it might also be a sign of greater things to come.

Notes has no such common context, and ends up feeling flat, directionless and inessential, where its forebears felt vital, worthy of devoting a life to. For a band with proven dexterity in deftly capturing the nuances and quick changes of contemporary conversation, it is disheartening to witness them with nearly nothing of note to say.

If Michael is Chaz Bundick's guided tour of dance music, then he takes you to some unexpected but seriously interesting places.

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.

To put it simply, Death Grips have never been afraid of pushing ever boundary around them, and Year Of The Snitch is no different.

The only issue for this record is that thereafter it meanders far too much and those lyrics that you loved at the beginning you begin resenting at the end as it almost becomes a caricature of itself. ... That doesn’t stop it being something great to chew on. Uppers is a great place to start and should rubber stamp TV Priest as one of, if not your favorite new act.

No matter how many times she’s labelled ‘the next Grimes’, there’s nought they can do about the fact that this one, well, she’s really one on her own.

The sparser the group go, the more space they have to fill and the more it sometimes feels like they’re straining. There’s beauty here, no doubt, and they’ve lost none of their technical skill. The move to Danish also brings an exciting new element. But, after years away working together on other projects, one suspects there's room for more inspiration here.

Faith is a very, very good album – most likely their best since their debut.

Access All Areas is a place where retro influences merge with contemporary thematics, additionally bestriding the border between nostalgia-evoking sampling and entirely fresh production techniques. From top to bottom, this record exhibits toned melodies, striking harmonies, and impressive vocal chemistry.

There are some striking, startling and sublime moments on Painting With, even if it is at times a little dis-jointed.

The misfiring cover of The Beatles’ "I Want To Hold Your Hand" aside, Pinkus Abortion Technician is more than a legacy record for the band. It reflects their continued enthusiasm and well of ideas and, most importantly, their willingness to keep it weird.

[Cigarettes After Sex] continue to refine their vision with more clarity, bigger baselines, and a continued promise to envelop you in their hazy, romantic pop noir. It’s that kind of consistency that fans have come to expect; still, one can’t help but wonder how many more releases Cigarettes After Sex will sustain this sound before they risk consistency for experimentation within their artistic boundaries.