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, the only possible problem with Heart Like A Levee is that some of the cuts fade out too soon.

The richness of the source material and the deftness of interplay of each member of the band ensures that Your Queen is a Reptile leaves you with a sense of having been a part of something truly special.

Mangy Love is a terrific, bizarre album made up of familiar parts rearranged into something new, unfamiliar, and offbeat.

Deceiver isn’t your Oshin or Is the Is Are, not by a longshot. Yet, while certain touchstones are present that give away that this is in fact DIIV, in a much larger sense we’re observing a band operating unlike they have before, and in the midst of that shift, they execute it stunningly.

MICHELLE will always be a pop group, but the tension in this slate of songs gives a different air to the other flowery elements in the production. It’s a product of six people developing individually and collectively.

Such moments of challenging, bold experimentation (which Wilco hasn't really bothered with off-stage on this scale for a while), coupled with a set of by turns desolate and uplifting, strange and sweet tunes, makes Ode to Joy mandatory listening for anyone interested in the enduring creative potential of rock - sorry, folk – music.

Dilly Dally have crafted a well formed rock album that’ll surely go to make Katie Monks the next pin up girl of the anti-pin up girls.

Simultaneously more overtly experimental yet more easily accessible - even the most cacophonous warble here is rooted in strong melodies--than Holden's past output, The Animal Spirits is a triumph that makes rigidly electronic textures seem so last year.

White Roses, My God is an often compelling experiment, but it’s hard not to suspect that its bold, often inscrutable excursions into alien territory ultimately undersell Sparhawk’s immense gifts as a musical communicator.

Potently precise and exceedingly witty, Kirby’s lyrical prowess is written all over Blue Raspberry, showcasing its sheer range from the earnest theatrics of "Drop Dead" to the quiet craving on "Wait Listen".

Sometimes you have to look back to move forward, and by doing that, Underworld have made their best album in almost twenty years.

Masculin Féminin offers a fascinating trip down memory lane for a band which has quietly--or rather more loudly, in the case of these songs from 1994 and 1995--made their mark on modern music.

Exploring his spiritual side, Kevin Morby has shown us the light, and it’ll lift you up, comfort, and enlighten.

Bea is a beacon of nostalgia for '90s kids who wished they were born a decade or two earlier, donning their Walkman, listening to cassettes, swapping out one grunge gem for the next. Bea provides a much-needed trip down memory lane, but not so much that it’s a pastiche to the era, rather an ardent nod, an ode to.

The album ends suddenly and uncertainly. We’re left with plenty to mull over but, equally importantly, a great desire to hear those ginormous hooks all over again.

The album closers says “Bon Voyage” in style – with a short but infectious final offering. At just over the three minute mark, sultry vocals dominate – making sure that Viva Hinds is not a record to be forgotten, but sweetly lingers.

To Love is to Live works best when Beth channels solemnity rather than bombast. The relentless bursts of energy that punctuate the record are often thrown as wild haymakers, yet it’s the cerebral moments before they land that deliver the most rewarding blows.

Time has its highs and its lows. It’s an album that doesn’t take itself too seriously. The lyrics may be tongue-in-cheek, but the craftsmanship of each song is nothing to smirk at.

Weird Faith toys with the emotional cohesion of Diaz’s best work, resulting in an album whose sum is only the value of its parts.

For the bigger part of Screen Violence, Chvrches keep things exciting while staying unapologetically themselves.

Amongst the album’s subtler shades, some might miss Lone’s trademark fireworks, but while Reality Testing might not bear the genre-defining feel of its predecessor, its personality and refreshing humanity provide ample compensation.

They’ve come out the other side with a debut that rips and tears with a whole lot more force. The band hasn’t lost any of its wildness, any of its chaotic energy, though it does feel like they’ve gone through a bit of development: they’re now a full-sized, frothing rottweiler, instead of the growling pitbull pup they were just a few years ago.

This is a riveting, first-rate record from a man who has made quite a few of them.

We never quite reach the mind-blowing heights of the first instalment’s greatest discoveries, namely Larry Jon Wilson’s “Ohoopee River Bottomland’ and Jim Ford’s ‘I’m Gonna Make Her Love Me’, although Donnie Fritts” does-what-it-says-on-the-tin “Sumpin Funky Going On” comes very close, but the quality remains very high.

Fin is a record of intimacy and confidence, a rare and sumptuous combination that Syd has pulled off quite remarkably.

As a whole, Inventions plays nicely as the backdrop of your psychedelic dreams. In pieces, it fares much better and commands more attention.

As the album plays, even now, it’s clear why so many people got involved, it may not be something you head towards when putting a record on these days but as a long player, like all the best albums, it plays like a greatest hits collection.