DON'T TAP emphasises that, really, he’s simply multifaceted. We all have radically different sides to who we are, and Tyler’s committed to expressing as much of himself as possible, from the cliché to the novel, the ugly to the beautiful, the cold-blooded to the empathetic.

Ceremony is not going to be to everyone’s taste, but this doesn’t take away from the fact that it is a stunning piece of work, which--with the time and attention it deserves--proves to be a thoroughly rewarding listen.

Yoncalla isn’t earth-shattering--everything sort of blends together, as is often the way with most dream pop records. But what does it matter when it’s the sort of album that makes you feel good.

The Baby is an incredibly self-aware pop record that proves Samia’s not a baby anymore.

Harlem River sees Morby’s melancholic discomforts through a refreshingly soft lens.

Abstract philosophizing aside, Sweet Justice remains as immediately gratifying as the rest of her catalogue; its rapping is smoother, its hooks are catchier, and its instrumentals more fine-tuned and studied.

At its best, the album is all at once loud, ethereal, and haunting--as if being violently jolted awake from a lucid dream you can’t quite remember.

It’s not packed with bangers, and the vocal tracks are a let-down, but as a fresh statement from a band that has promised and delivered much in the past, it’s exciting to hear them go down this route.

Black Rivers are creating sombre yet euphoric, uplifting music that shows how to sound far out whilst still retaining the knack of writing beautifully cohesive songs.

Collectively, it’s certainly Moss’s strongest work to date - a thoughtful, mature album, which delivers plenty of food for thought and a range of sounds, emotions and lyrical quirks to keep most listeners happy.

A few of the less memorable cuts drift by without making much of an impact: adventurous arrangements in search of a substantial centre that would allow for a real connection to be made. That said, the blissfully floating, richly melodic closing suite “Alma_The Voyage” makes up for the occasional idling.

On a surface level, the melancholy strum of a slow acoustic guitar can come across as another translator for yet more sad songs, yet Atwell tenderly works on herself beneath its topline, where more complexities also lie, refusing to change for the acceptance of others on tracks such as the steadily-paced "Fan Favourite", even taking on crunchy guitars in "Release Myself" for a change in pace.

Tapestried by contributions from the likes of Rousay, Roy Montgomery, caroline’s Alex McKenzie and Squid’s Laurie Nankivell, Murphy’s debut is an uncanny and heroic game of hide and seek.

KicK iiii soundtracks the edges of her universe. So far out from the frenesis of KicK iii and ii, the fourth installment’s driving force is a “bloodlust for beauty” (“Whoresong”).

There isn’t a weak track on the album--just varying degrees of excellence.

Balloonerism is an emotive and plaintive testament to Miller’s lasting legacy and firmly establishes the profound impact he’s had on shaping rap.

A daring, self-assured statement by a band who have finally figured out just what a special thing they have created with Volcano Choir, but still aren’t aware of where it’s going to take them next.

Carrier is a joy and we have an album that’s up there with the most moving and stirring records of 2013.

It might not be enough to breathe new life into DJ-KiCKS but he’s created a new blueprint for every other curator to follow. This is brilliant, and mix number 47 has got some way to go to match it.

Circle is a compelling, often mesmerizing listen, but you might have trouble finding a foothold.

It’s yet another release from one of Sweden’s many stunning exports that make us want more of their “less”.

It’s phenomenally exciting to have that sense of danger back in music. It’s subtle, malevolent and utterly charming noise, and if Glass Animals turned out to be buttering you up with a cannibalistic lick of the lips, you’d let them gnaw away.

In another step away from her new-folk singer-songwriter roots, Emmy The Great has delivered with a well-considered venture into a wider, colder, dystopian world.

This is a songwriter who has mastered his craft and now has applied a frivolity to his record and the outcome is the most essential release to date.

Garbage’s seventh record No Gods No Masters is their most direct and overtly critical to date, making for a visceral, re-energising listen.

It’s an overdose of things that would, individually, be fantastic, but are made lesser by their combination.

Musically speaking, there are a few hopefully upbeat indie-folk numbers to provide a certain spark to the otherwise bleak lyrical subject matter.

His perfectionism has done him proud, as Telluric is a masterful glimpse into the mind of a man who has much to say, and who says it beautifully.