The instrumentals of Ooh Rap I Ya are a feat of surrealism in songcraft, ebbing waves of synths and overblown drums soundtrack much of the run time, but in increasingly more abstract ways. It isn’t long until the mastery of the pop form displayed in the first half of the record devolves into the spare parts of a song: 90s hits deconstructed and remade in the most obtuse yet enjoyable ways.

Jenny from Thebes, depending on one’s fascination with The Mountain Goats’ 30-odd years of winding lore, may either have the connotation of your dad and his group of friends finally getting around to making that album they always talked about, or, where charity applies, stay just high enough above passability that it can be recommended by fans with the asterisk, ‘one of the better ones.’

Though Can I Get a Pack of Camel Lights? is a magpie-mix of familiar genres and influences, from Indian-raga-inspired psychedelia to tripped-out electronica, it is also clearly the product of someone freely expanding their sound in multiple directions, and that sense of exploration and fun is infectious.

Ultimately, while her opus may lie elsewhere in her discography, Blue Banisters achieves precisely what it set out to - free from distractions, it’s a welcome insight into some of her most warm and introspective moments.

How Do You Burn? ups the ante on its two predecessors going deeper in a richly assured display of Dulli and the band’s abilities.

Not only is King of Cowards Pigs’ best release, the promise of their previous work fulfilled; in a year of hip hop and R&B dominating charts and critics’ minds alike, it’s probably also the best time you’re likely to have with a rock album in 2018.

It’s precise where MASSEDUCTION was deliciously sloppy. But in real terms, they’re both as near to perfect as a pop record is going to get these days--incredibly perceptive, personal and inviting with clever lyrics sitting on beautifully inventive melodies. Both albums are great. Both albums deserve all the awards.

Man Forever harnesses the power of repetitive drumbeat-drills and the misdirection of some innocuous silence and droning vocals to create a sort of synesthesia, blurring the lines between each piece’s individual components with clarity as yet unheard within Man Forever’s canon.

Suuns makes a point of honor to make the sounds as an absolute priority, the only small thorn lies in the melodies and vocals, sometimes too shy or idealistic to sublimate the whole.

He is a rare talent that we must cherish and allow to scratch what ever creative itch he wishes to. With I Tell a Fly, Clementine proves he is indeed an artist of extraordinary ability.

On The Invisible Way Sparhawk has managed the rare trick of rendering that language not only intelligible but lustrous and attractive to even the staunchest naysayer while simultaneously steering his band around a fresh and perhaps uncharted musical turn.

All Of Us Flames reveals a perhaps more humble and equanimous Furman, an empathetic artist still committed to truth-telling, still railing against the injustices of the world.

Here is your soundtrack to that world, perhaps unsurprisingly it rocks righteously.

It all makes for a pretty giant leap forward, with the weighty, emotional subject punctured by a Willy Wonka factory of discombobulated guitar pop that has the tUnE-yArDs’ finger print all over it.

Here, finally, is some of the ebb and flow, some of the emotion that’s been lacking on the album up to this point. What a shame that it comes so close to Slow Focus’ end.

Since bursting on to scene with “Young Blood” all those years ago, The Naked and Famous have proven themselves to be more than well-deserved mainstays in the indie bop world.

This record has that waltzing, wispy quality which makes you want to stand on the top of a hill and have a good cry. It's far from the first album to do that in this style, and even further from being the most experimental, but it really nails what it’s going for.

Talk Memory excels as an advertisement for prodigious jazz technique, but it just doesn't excel as a BADBADNOTGOOD record.

Delicate and crystalline in sound & execution, what we have here is brave, innovative, unexpected, and brilliant.

Golden Sings That Have Been Sung manages to catch the restlessly churning, improvisatory lightning of Walker's live shows in the studio, whilst wisely cutting out any idling that could grate in home listening.

Foxing have crafted an album that expertly balances what drew in old fans in the first place – the borderline-unhinged emotional highs of their early math sound – with fresh, indie rock that is very likely to perk up the ears of new listeners.

Making mischief of one kind and another in a world gone wrong is what Osees do, and Abomination Revealed at Last is a solid rumpus.

Vulnicura Strings sees Björk restructuring an already phenomenal work of art and creating an even more desolate mood than the phenomenal Vulnicura, where time is frozen but also somewhere to move on from. It’s not a place to visit every day, but whenever you need a reminder about what great art looks and feels like here’s where to go to.

Her new found confidence comes through in spades here and the end product is a record that shines with a captivating vibrancy.

The arty fusion of cabaret, baroque and psychedelia somehow places it between Beach House and more recent Fleet Foxes, but does not always make for the easiest of listening.

Toward the song’s end, “Mad About You” takes a left turn into a blurry coda unlike anything else on Hollow Ground. It is a sign of stronger connections to the present that Clarke can turn to, having proven here beyond a doubt his prowess with the past.

It isn’t often that metal is as direct and exhilarating as it is on Viscerals, and despite a series of songs concerned with the more unsavoury facets of life, there is a furious energy at the heart of the record it’s hard not to get swept up in.

Throughout the highs and lows, the album ultimately invites listeners to join in Berrin’s cathartic journey and embrace their own complexities, searching for solace in a chaotic world.