In the end it is a work crippled by its own indecision, and perhaps bowed by the weight of expectation: a shame, for sure, but hardly a reason to lose faith.

Triage is a spectrum of colour and abstract character, stained with a unique personality. Thanks to this approach, Triage is the finest work from Methyl Ethel yet.

There are parts that gel, and others that are just plain strange: flippant tone shifts, gritty electronica jarring with the twinkling guitars and Deez’s hearty warbling.

Ed Harcourt too seems to be dealing with a few demons of his own on Back Into The Woods, but this collection of world-weary songs also beats with a poetic heart of longing.

Most of the album functions as a dance album, and a pretty good one at that. It’s the sections of the record where the focus is shifted, and Melidis tips his hat to the rock and pop music of the 60s or 70s or another by-gone era, that let the album down.

There’s plenty of kernels of good ideas here, but very few of them feel properly developed; just as their genre’s been thrust into the spotlight, Sleepy Sun seem to have developed stage fright.

An admirably well-balanced attempt by Drew to really strike out on his own.

This third full-length is enjoyable as a standalone too, but probably more so with the added context.

Zoetrope manages to ably explore both shades of contemporary electronic music; the house-tinged, ecstasy laden cracks of one school and the strokey beard experimentations of the other.

On Moth Boys Spector learn from the shortcomings of their debut and comfortably eclipse its quality.

A Youthful Dream sounds too much like the result of a punk group attempting to break out of the strictures of their genre without knowing exactly where else to turn.

Friends is White Lies’ least inspiring record both musically and thematically; they appear to be back in identity crisis mode, and it might not be recoverable this time around.

In all, it's a glossy debut that certainly gives you something to shout about.

Menace Beach seem to be taking the opportunity of a rather ominous looking 2017 to create a pretty attractive alternative musical universe for them and their fans to inhabit.

The Pace Of The Passing is an expansive and ambitious record that should delight fans of Bombay Bicycle Club but also pull in listeners not be so acquainted with his previous work.

Overall, this is a much better album from the now quartet from the North-East. While it is still a long way from achieving the status of A Certain Trigger, Risk To Exist reveals Maxïmo Park in a new light and is certainly a step in the right direction.

TRather than being a simple tribute, Juliana Hatfield Sings Olivia Newton-John is a stunning addition to the story of both musicians. Thankfully, there are hundreds of songs left for Hatfield to do on Part II.

Spacious but awash with invention, Arrhythmia will be easily overlooked by many, but cherished by those that take the time to live with, and in, it for a while.

Phantastic Ferniture is pumped with enough care-free energy and catchy pop hooks to brighten up the darkest of days.

The impulsive outpouring of Noise & Romance is reminiscent of Deerhunter and their side projects back in their prolific Microcastle / Weird Era Cont. days; flooded with good ideas and inclined to put them all to use.

It’s full of genuinely bracing moments that deftly thread punk grit with austere humour and unabashed sincerity. It’s just a shame that what they’re best at seems to have been done so well so recently by other bands.

Petrichor lingers long after the final note. This is not just Shake’s best work – it’s a classic in the making.

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

Artificial Sweeteners doesn’t have a great deal of low-end to it, and struggles for genuine groove as a result.

It was too easy for Weiss and Presant to make a record like this: they’ve not challenged themselves, and they’ve certainly not challenged the listener.

It’s a brave act on Furler’s part, to stand up and present a body of work that so many other people deemed not good enough, but ultimately, it’s a great collection of pop songs, cynical or not.

This is pop, pure and simple, and taken as such, is a rollicking pleasure.

The Beyond Clueless album stands on its own merits; it is as much a soundtrack to your own memories/current experience of tennagerdom as it is to Lyne’s documentary.

Even without the visuals, the mood and narrative of Vanbot’s journey are sometimes sharply articulated, sometimes mysterious--we can piece together a story, or just sit back and observe as it passes.

Unhealthy though it may be, the pain expressed certainly produced a great debut.

Though the album isn’t an entreaty for mass acceptance, Tobacco’s music does sound increasingly comfortable in its stitched-up skin.

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.

Overall though, this still feels like a missed opportunity; a more inspired roll call of contributors could have pushed Song Reader into essential listening territory. As it is, fans might well get more out of playing these songs than listening to them. Then again, that was always the point.

Hexadic works best when Chasny dials down the guitar squall and channels his energies towards more nuanced fare.

Outside sounds exactly like the repetitive spinning wheels on a bus (going ’round and ’round) and causes you to become restless and slightly angry of its lack of forward movement.

He's had a reputation for being guarded in the past, but on Trick, we see him wear his heart on his sleeve.

Even in busier moments, there is sufficient enough breathing room to catch each sound and instrument’s subtle exhalations.

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.

It’s good that Data Panik Etcetera knows exactly what it wants to do instead. Unfortunately, it does this with none of the edge, none of the drive, none of the sheer urgency that made them as great as they were in their prime.

At best, it suggests that Crystal Castles are entering a more mellow and accessible phase in their career, potentially welcoming new fans, and at worst, it suggests that Crystal Castles have lost the bite that made them so exhilarating in the first place.

Ultimately, Dunes is a collection of tracks which showcases Gardens & Villa’s distinctly original twist on the well-worn and much abused genre of synth-pop. It’s fun, it’s clever and it’s mature--electro-pop for adults.

Much of the album largely lives and dies by how much The Fresh & Onlys can animate five-decades old materials.

All Hail Bright Futures sees And So I Watch You From Afar fulfilling the promise that both their debut and follow up teased.

The album is fresh with synth, bells and whistles that could be part of an actual gameshow. There are some cracking verses and screeching guitar sections that will sound great live.

Bones is a remarkable, chameleonic entity.

Yellen’s vision is ambitious and expansive, but not always easy to digest.

Performing at a venue that once hosted the iconic long-running Grand Ole Opry show, the band do seem slightly in awe of their venerable surroundings. They certainly never get too chatty here, with Bridwell limiting himself to an occasional aww-shucks ‘Thanks y’all!’ or similar.

It’s a record that’s full of interesting ideas that needs a few listens to appreciate its subtleties, which are ultimately very rewarding.

It’s a shame then that much of Wait ’til Night lacks the depth of narrative that made the imposing tales of urban romance on Playin’ Me so engrossing.... There’s still much to embrace here though.

Though The Mountain Will Fall cannot be considered a failure by any means, it does continue the trend of his recent work being left firmly in the shadow of his past.

It’s that sense of balance--the epic and the intimate, the light and the shade, the coldness and the warmth--that puts Taiga in contention with Stridulum II as Zola Jesus’ best work, the purest distillation of an ever-searching soul.

The Album is a solid effort of accessible pop-rock, and to expect any more or less from Jonas Brothers would be foolhardy.

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.

The credentials are there, the ability is clearly there, but for now these emperors are yet to truly shine.

Seventy-five percent of the tracklisting consists of lovingly bastardised fan-favourite versions of demo tracks that have been online for up to eleven years.

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

The album is a little verbose in places as Okereke delights and demeans in equal measure past loves and lovers.

Music For Listening To Music To is a record that sounds simultaneously old-fashioned and modern, a delightful reminder of ‘that’s how it used to be done’ but ultimately a modern country album charged with electric guitars, a love of jangle and a showcase of Goodman’s glorious singing. But most importantly, it’s a gorgeous collection of timeless songs.

It’s an album that washes over, vying for attention, but never quite succeeds in grabbing it, and never quite living up to what Cold War Kids could be.

Heartache City has much more in common with the band’s first two albums, the freakiness of their folk here is undeniable, but the tracks all share a strong backbone of hip hop and afro-beat which elevates them above the streamlined pop melee.

Country Mile is a fine album, testament to the smartly ornate take on English folk old and new as one and the same, but given Flynn’s own catalogue and his undoubted abilities it hasn’t progressed as far as it could have done.

The LP is constructed, played and sung with acute skill, but all done without a hint of pizzazz, little colour, vibrancy or peculiarities--it's all a lackadaisical tumble of synth and guitar.

It is interesting that Barnett’s chosen soundtrack to the movie about her life is much more subdued than the rest of her discography. Where she has previously depended on frank and revealing lyrical turns to convey emotion, she here demonstrates that she can do the same with only her instrument.

I Said I Love You First barely even tries to entertain during its runtime. It’s fundamentally uninteresting music.

This album does do something to placate their critics on this issue. Kind of.

It might be a little light on lyrical substance, but it’s gorgeously melodic and irresistibly mellow; they don’t make pop records like this any more.

While Pedestrian is not the most remarkable album, it feels honest and comforting.

This is a marked improvement on the density of their first effort, and sounds like a band who have grown very sure of themselves in the best way possible.

Yet although it lasts barely half an hour, it feels as if the album doesn't quite cohere into a convincing whole, and that the first half's captivating energy is lost amidst one too many hazy, half-formed slow jams later on. Even so, a hugely promising debut.

At 17 tracks, A Moment of Madness could be more taut and, frankly, have a bit more madness in the mix. Bizu is such a gifted vocalist that it would’ve been a treat to get a few less polished cuts.

While it satisfies the need to move around and proclomate, the end result of V proves hapless as well as frustrating to see because the Bronx have an immeasurable amount of talent--it’s just too bad that this far in, they haven’t managed to harness it entirely and create something more monumental.

While their sound might indicate that the Icky Blossoms walk the streets at night in search of fresh blood, the overall affect is quite a bit less dramatic.

In Dreams skirts a line of uncertainty between if the album is too over-populated or if the listener is too feint of heart.

And The Wave Has Two Sides may be severely front-loaded, but it sees ON AN ON offer up a handful of songs that appear to be a genuine attempt to take a stride towards some sort of commercial success. Currently however, the misses outnumber the hits.

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

In For Ever, J and T have taken their ability of animating moments in life, and have looked inward, applying it to their fresh heartbreak. Littered all round there’s signs and sounds of love’s wreckage.

It's still early days, but this London-based quintet have delivered a debut with all the hallmarks of a band who will continue to refine their own distinctive niche.

Once Gonzalez has had his fun and begins to settle in to the ways of the old M83, but with a bit of a pop sheen to it, is when Junk works best. It’s just a shame you have to flick through the channels to find the gold.

Haze and her production team have creative ideas and the means to realise them on record. They simply distract themselves trying to turn a rapper into a pop star.

It's a thrilling, if occasionally nauseating, sojourn into the spontaneous world of freeform performance.

With Angel Guts Stewart once again manages to dig his nails into the grubby under layer, not returning with any transgressed beauty but instead stark honesty and brutal truth. You may want to turn away, but you might not be able to.

The end result is an album sure to be a curiosity for fans but likely to be lost on everyone else.

The moment you think you've had enough, it's over with, leaving behind a trail of desire to press play, over and over again.

With Älskar, Nina Nesbitt has profoundly demonstrated her knack at penning emotive, and sonically layered numbers that range from classic-pop to piano-ballad cuts.

Where the band truly shines is when it strikes a balance between erudite musicianship and songwriting prowess.

Thumpers maintain a vertigo-high quality on Galore, and provide us with another option in the hotly-contested battle for ‘album of the summer’.

Although the album is perhaps two songs too long, Angus & Julia Stone succeeds because the whole outnumbers the sum, and does so with a light-touch intensity. Rubin might not be breaking new ground here but he’s mining precious stones.

There are so many different genres, instruments, sounds and ideas at play here that at times its too much to digest.

The Golden Age is undoubtably the work of a mature consciousness.

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.

Where the original lacked depth, these versions source it through the lens of a quasi 21-track double album with revived bass and energy that is the stuff of their live shows.

It’s an album that sets out to excite and take risks and be messy. Alternately visceral and cerebral, and building with a whole new set of tools, UMO’s second release this year feels like a band bursting from their bubble; saying plenty about both Nielson’s fevered creativity, and the future of his cherished project.

You have to admire the experimentation and musical audacity demonstrated on this album--i’s a shame that it doesn’t always work in jj’s favour.

Alone Aboard the Ark is an album that moves The Leisure Society forwards, outwards, and upwards, as a band that continues to grow into their story.

Waking Lines is an ambitious premiere, but one that’s not had all it’s misshapen foibles ironed out. Patterns have, however, ensured that they’ll remain inside people’s heads for a considerable time to come.

It’s simply not striking enough to elicit a stronger response than this, as well polished as it may be.

There are some excellent discoveries waiting to be heard across a surprisingly wide array of artists and (sub-)genres. The collection features everything from safe recreations (White Reaper’s “Sad But True”) to left-field rejiggering (J Balvin’s rap reimagining of “Wherever I May Roam”).

Where things get truly interesting, though, is watching Joey’s flow adapt to the song.