Chalk it up as another transitional album of sorts; Love Yes has TEEN well on their way if they’re not already there.

On their debut, Delmer Darion present an album that can be enjoyed studiously through exploring its depth and archival references, but more importantly they have simply created 44 minutes of music that sounds like it is from a new world as beautiful as it is strange.

Alix is not a perfect album--Widmer and Joyner’s vocals still prove an acquired taste and while better balanced than previous efforts, the duo could still use a wider dynamic. However, it does arguably prove that Generationals’ bread and butter lies on the poppy side of the fence, this perhaps their most cohesive statement to date, and their yellow brick road’s poppy fields appear to serve only to revitalize.

Western Stars is simply a classy record from a man growing increasingly comfortable with his status as an elder statesman of classic rock. And I absolutely cannot wait to listen to it in a car.

First Demo reinforces the impression that this particular band never really set a foot wrong; they sound more assured here, with just ten performances under their collective belt, than many bands longer in the tooth do in a lifetime.

Richard D James still manages to be one of electronic music’s most captivating producers, and even if this does not have quite the same effect on the listener as much of his other work, it still feels far more engaging and accomplished than a simple genre exercise.

Push/Pull is brimming with stellar cuts. Every track is an intriguing mess, a cavalcade of hodgepodge elements that when smooshed together, far from sounding like a steaming dump, are riveting.

It’s thirty five years of dance music history wrapped up in a glorious fifty minutes and with Whang at the helm, it’s encased with an icy sheen, impossible to resist.

The Jesus and Mary Chain are trapped in amber on Damage and Joy, untouched by the very different musical climate to the one they last sent an album out into. Good job, then, that it contains far more hits than misses.

This is a record that shrugs off some of the grandiosity of America and instead offers more detail and smaller, more nuanced yet easily interpreted emotions within a relatively familiar context.

As Brun has demonstrated over these last two records, whether experimenting or sticking closer to home, she remains essential listening.

Overall though, this is a special album, and a real accomplishment. To make a record largely of solo violin music with songs played as impeccably as this, but have the performance itself not be the focus, is remarkable.

It may be a relatively short listen, which can easily breeze past you if you don’t pay attention, but Swim Inside the Moon is a warning shot, a sign of things to come. This is just the beginning for Angelo De Augustine--an artist full of potential.

Everything is presented with a glossy sheen which may prove too much for some, especially fans of arguably their best album, 1998’s underrated and unloved Adore, and as with every other Pumpkins album, it’s hard to see where Corgan and Chamberlin end, and the other players begin. Yet if you weren’t expecting much from this latest attempt at keeping the band alive, you'll be impressed at how revitalised they sound.

On balance, Music For Dogs kind of ends up resembling a bag of chocolate misshapes: weird-looking and questionable, but still somehow oddly loveable.

On first listen, the absence of a nihilistic mantra to grasp onto may disappoint fans, but the deceptively simple pleasures of Honey open up with each listen. Robyn is trusting her instincts; finding care and wonder in the spaces she once went for punishment.

It’s an album that sets out to excite and take risks and be messy. Alternately visceral and cerebral, and building with a whole new set of tools, UMO’s second release this year feels like a band bursting from their bubble; saying plenty about both Nielson’s fevered creativity, and the future of his cherished project.

Modulating between grandiosity and relative constraint helps to root the band’s sound in an eerily-wrought hinterland; a template that deters the fabled afflictions of second album syndrome, securing itself as a credible successor to their spry breakout debut.

The songwriting is there, as are great performances. But with a band like Horse Thief, the difference between in studio and on stage is a distraction that’s as unfortunate as it is glaring.

Ultimately the Screaming Eagle of Soul continues to soar, and despite all of the changes, the reasons to fall for Charles Bradley remain constant.

While Deafheaven do their best to coalesce their efforts on OCHL, it’s the bigger moments that resonate most satisfyingly. It’s not perfect, but on this evidence, the Cali-based group are still one of today’s most stimulating metal bands.

Though it has been sixteen years since their last studio album, not much is technically new here except a further tendency towards the mellow and ongoing hopeless romanticism.

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

With Transfixiation, they’ve provided a compelling rebuke to their detractors; once again, there’s no shortage of consideration behind the chaos.

There’s much on this sleek and self-confident debut to suggest that the young band are wholly capable of sculpting their own unique voice amongst all the others.

I Remember isn’t a masterpiece, but it’s an all round strong record where both Reid and Francis solidify their complimentary strengths.

On the whole, this is a wonderful album, and a suitable follow-up to Bliss Release.

It’s the haunting, beat-driven atmospherics that ultimately make the songs memorable (or not), and throughout this new record the textured dynamics of these songs pulse with a clean, modern inventiveness, while also echoing the moody tones of his best work.