The ten songs on this thing really are special, and worthy of the epic introduction tacked on to every article about it.

Masking our flawed humanity with flawless electro, the South London trio fork over a delicious portion of pessimistic pop, drizzled in scrumptious synths and glorious electronic production, but bypassing a sugarcoating of over-hackneyed hedonism.

Despite its purpose, The General is a warm, intricate experience that can soundtrack whatever you need it to on each listen.

Although The Main Thing isn’t perfect, it serves as their version of it as we see Real Estate continuing to be both consistent and reliable as ever.

This is experimental music at its very finest, and rarest: unashamedly cerebral, but also unrelenting in its dedication to powerful dynamics and--crucial point, this--melodic hooks.

The album often also throws song structures open to unexpected twists and diversions: more than half the tracks on The Neon Gate unfurl at their own sweet pace over six minutes or more. The results can be revelatory

Both albums [Quazarz: Born On A Gangsta Star and Quazarz vs. The Jealous Machines] deliver uneasy commentary on modern times, and the music that supports it is as equally challenging.

Her vocal dynamism translates particularly well in rock-leaning settings, where her leaping registers make their way through enthralling kicks and mean guitar riffs.

The fact that a band thirteen albums in to their career can still make music that scares their audience is one thing. But the most amazing thing about The Terror is that it sounds like they still have the capacity to scare themselves.

It’s still clear, though, that she has too many ideas not to be able to take them somewhere interesting once settled into a new life. File under ‘transitional’.

The best albums allow us to ruminate on life’s big questions, giving insight not only into the mind of the artist but reflecting the sentiments of the beholder, and Viet Cong does exactly that.

Where past ventures could tend to exude a mannered self-consciousness, Adams acquits himself here with an easy and infectious sincerity.

It’s an emotional record first and an ambient record second, and one that will resonate even with those who typically aren’t fans of the niche genre.

Hard Boiled Soft Boiled is an album of progress for Odonis Odonis, and while appearing to be a bit conceptual on the outside, it’s got one hell of a tasty centre.

Faulty Superheroes, simply put, is faultless.

Despite these downbeat descriptions, the beauty is evident from start to finish.

On The Sovereign Self, they combine to remarkable effect. This is not an easy record, but it needs to be heard. Again and again.

Stars Are The Light drifts unassumingly in a dreamlike state and although the key component of all of their albums up to this point is relegated to atmospherics, it’s a transition which has been made with ease.

Juniore’s cinematic yet understated psychedelia provides much-needed opportunity for escapism in these turbulent times, and allows us to dip our toes into a world where all that matters are happenin’ hooks and rad riffs.

Neither bad, nor excellent, this is an album which sounds like a promise.

72 Seasons is certainly a triumph. It's Metallica by the books, the experimentation and curiosity pushed aside for brutality and sheer force. How much of this you can handle is debatable, but therein lies the trick of 72 Seasons.

Throughout, there is a compelling sense of commitment and deep love towards the material and the concept from both the stage and the audience – but ultimately the undertaking is perhaps a bit too respectful to make Cat Power Sings Dylan truly come alive.

Although his impressions of Sinatra give an insight into the music of his formative years and remind of the beauty and genius of that era, they are unlikely to appeal very far beyond hardcore Dylan fans.

On Send A Prayer My Way they apply tasteful country renovations and marry humour, melancholy and joy with timely themes in a way that will only delight fans of either artist.

There are no 'sound-

Californian Soil is London Grammar in an act of gradual evolution, signs hinted at on their sophomore outing but blossoming to a greater extent here; retaining an ability to innovate within the parameters of their synonymously plush electronic soul.

Long-time fans--particularly of King of the Beach--will find plenty to like here, but it’s difficult not to feel that Williams, by now, has scraped the bottom of the pop barrel; his future, as No Life for Me suggested, looks brighter when his stylistic eye wanders elsewhere.

The result is an earthy, positive album that buzzes with authenticity and pride.