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.