There’s nothing particularly new here, nothing cutting edge, but there is beautiful, considered, genuine songwriting, and to greet such art with any kind of disdain would be nothing short of a travesty.

The great success of In The Same Room is that it achieves the admirable feat of making us feel intimately close to each performance.

There's no hidden agenda here, the intention is to make as much noise as quickly as possible, and it sure does that, there's no deviation, no clever studio trickery, just in your face ear affrontery. It's a shattering, but ultimately thrilling listen.

Love And Compromise was written as an album for everyone; on those terms, it's an unqualified, joyous success.

Time Skiffs angles between incidental blasts of digital fuzz and the purely melodic, resurrecting the freeform yet tangible instinct of Animal Collective’s earlier work; ambitiously addictive without appearing self-indulgently so.

Come Closer is a hostage to 90s Euro-Club-isms and torn in half by the lesser devices of two highly talented individuals, a near-first in music where a collab brings out the worst in each participant.

Thankfully, Mutator proves that Vega was capable of moments of excellence, even without his Suicide co-pilot Martin Rev. These are great songs, and wonderful additions to Vega’s ever-expanding back catalogue.

Wonderland‘s a cracking slab of chewy pop-toffee. It’s sugary, and superficially slathered with rainbow glitter, but it takes more than a few seconds to comprehend and devour the music.

It’s music made by a human being, intended for human beings, about losing one’s humanity in order to transcend it. By nature, that makes it immensely incomprehensible, scary and challenging, even difficult to get through for the uninitiated. But if you meet Anhedönia's creation on her terms, ready to plunge into the depths and emerge semi-alive, Perverts will open up to you – at least, it did for me.

It’s certainly one of his best, and like numerous tracks on the LP, it plays with a glossy melancholia; a dark edge to the lush, string augmented tracks can be found in the lyrics, in these tales of downtrodden souls in pursuit of an elusive salvation.

32 Levels sees Clams Casino step up a level and make a hugely positive and lasting impression.

Startisha, as such, finds Juwan transcending genre without qualm, a path crossed by many, but delivered here with a precision and confessional centre that feels innate, organic and without lull.

Chopper doesn’t reinvent the wheel, nor does it steer into anything surprising or off kilter, but it definitely shows how nicely the wheel continues to spin.

SweetSexySavage is a powerfully optimistic record, and while it glances back to a pop/R&B heyday, Parrish has crafted something entirely of her own, refined by a canny approach to lyricism and unbridled intimacy.

In Hug Of Thunder, Broken Social Scene have managed to master the balance between spiky energy, tender melody and a singular knack for carving out a soaring chorus. Hug Of Thunder has undoubtedly been a long time coming, but it has unequivocally been worth the wait.

This is an often-beautiful, fully professional work from an artist that clearly knows the toys his listeners will allow him to play with outside of his own sandbox.

The Great Dismal, thankfully, is everything it promised to be – it sounds huge, and it sounds miserable.

While the band leads us down roads we have assuredly traveled before, that doesn’t make the sights and the sounds any less interesting or intoxicating this time around.

It’s a thought-out piece of work; a collection of collaborating and competing daubs of colour across a blank canvas; a flock of sounds moving together as one, for one simple reason alone: to bring you joy.

Blondes' third album sees them take several steps forward, delivering a piece that's often mesmeric and always distinctively theirs.

On A La Sala, Khruangbin prove their talent for making intricate instrumental music that is capable of casting an evocative spell, whilst also hinting at the potential downfalls of becoming locked inside the band’s mid-tempo comfort zone: more of the steadily intensifying drama of gently soaring first single “A Love International” would be welcome.

In other words, they haven’t lost a step as a band.

There’s heaps of incendiary six-stringers, throttling beats and barbed tongues; it’s a potent brew that they peddle, but one that suits them just fine.

That Seven Dials is always on the move, though, doesn’t hint at finality, more at the further possibility of great things to come. This, for any lover of the cracked ballad, the pop hit, the smart word or the perfectly chosen chord, is essential.

Removed from the expansive instrument-led sounds of previous records Ganglion Reef and Golem, 1000 Days immerses inwards. Strident stadium rock collides with characteristic psychedelia with a natural euphoria.

Musically the album moves in a more organic way from one song into another than if it were just a collection of ten songs.

It doesn’t as a whole compete with its first offerings.

It’s still a difficult record to parse – Smith’s complex collaging lends itself to attentive admiration – but on this release, she wants you to hear the concept. She wants you to see what she can hear.