Drifters/Love Is The Devil isn’t always an unqualified success, but more often than not it displays Dirty Beaches as a project increasingly adept at the scattershot of styles, imprinted with Hungtai’s own recognisable mark.

Although this might not be a record that grabs you by the collar and slaps you in the face with its genius, for those who are happy to give a little of themselves to bring these songs to life, Along The Way could prove an excellent companion for whatever journeys lie ahead.

Joy, recorded with Ty Segall and released last year, was a cocksure, psychedelia-tinged swirl of sex and limbs and thumping rhythms. I Have To Feed Larry’s Hawk exhibits little of this exuberance and is in large part a more gentle work of perspective and introspection, aided by a curatorial production that treats each element of the music, electronic or acoustic, like a moving part of a clockwork diorama, Presley’s breathy vocals condensing on the glass of the bell jar as he watches them all tick and turn.

If you’re a longtime fan of the band, you might be concerned about all this talk of simplification - you might even wonder if you’ll be able to detect the kind of madcap playfulness and mind-bending experimentation that brought you to the band in the first place. You’ll find out that actually, you can.

If I’m dinging anything, it’s the temptation to coat every chorus in frosting, but I guess that’s also what makes Man’s Best Friend so much fun to listen to. Even when Carpenter over-ices the cake, the bite underneath is her own – funny, flirty, occasionally feral, and unmistakably Sabrina.

Despite Hypercaffium Spazzinate feeling as referential as it does, it's surprising that there's nothing obviously referencing ALL, the attitude and mantra that populated some of their earlier records. The sentiment is there however, it's rooted in the record, its sheer energy, and the attention which has gone in to making it.

After The Great Storm is an emphatic record, conjuring up moments of hope and reassurance for difficult times, but also unafraid to reveal flashes of vulnerability and insecurity, all conveyed through an unfiltered and organic new style for Brun.

You do have to dig at times though, to forage and find your own touchstones. Without that effort you may be left wandering around the realm she inhabits admiring the craft without feeling its warm embrace.

There are real signs of musical development on Sremmurd 2 that point to longevity for the duo.

It’s unassuming and introverted, an odd mix of murk and clarity which proves to be ever more intriguing with each listen.

A celebration and a middle finger as Banoffee reclaims her strength across tracks driven by wonky pop sensibilities and a drop of infectious playfulness.

Through a dizzying blend of experimentation, innovation and stylistic idiosyncrasy Everything Everything have created another peerless record with Raw Data Feel, one which proves once more that the horizons the band chases are theirs and theirs alone.

In giving his compositions a little more leeway to spin and pirouette with maximum emotional force, Son Lux has made his best album to date and proven the wisdom of waving goodbye to restraint once in a while.

For if you don’t get distracted by the constant temptations of modern contrivances and social connectivity, and buy into these simple but striking songs that Lewis is selling on Electric Slave, then he’s got the cure for the modern ills and then some.

The New Abnormal cements their continued relevance when many had been written them off, and as ever they don’t seem to care either way.

It’s light years ahead of anything Goodman turned out with Vivian Girls; she’ll never be the world’s most original songwriter, but the opportunity to let both her vocals and her guitar breathe is one that’s already paying dividends.

This is a wonderfully assured comeback record, but it’s also precisely more of the same.

It’s hard to find fault with Bashed Out; timeless and completely modern all at once, Stables might have taken a little bit of time to hit her stride with This Is The Kit but this combination of players has helped her realise a vision of sorts: it’s as lucid a record as you’ll hear all year.

There’s no doubt that Pianos Become The Teeth are fully aware of where they want to be; all that’s left is a little more refinement and consistency to get them to that point.

Reflection is a product for everyone; not just the music lover. Yes, the music alone can be easily appreciated for its virtuosity; however, the whole package assists people with their day-to-day lives and provokes mindfulness and interaction with the wider world.

Mourn is a hearty, eye-popping reminder just how far we have swayed from rock music’s embryo nowadays and how awfully contrived the revivalist stabs have been.

Parton did exactly as he set out to do, bridging a self-recognized gap in his songwriting habits to produce a melodically dense record packed with insatiable hooks with minimal sacrifice to the band's signature sense of nostalgia-infused momentum.

Weezer’s greatest misses may come from their frontman’s visceral desperation to stay relevant, but it’s a relief to hear them take chances and risk failure in such a new way. The album might just be OK, but it’s been a long time since Weezer have dared to be this human.

While the album has its forgettable moments, there are points where McVicar and Tweeddale really show what they’re made of--and that, if you piss them off, you’re going to know about it.

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.

Like with their lyrics, The Goon Sax are still working things out on the fly. Getting caught up in the feeling and riding the wave until they find some sort of conclusion. For the Brisbane trio, truly embracing that feeling, however messy, is what makes them so special.

There’s a pleasant sea-change at the mid-way point on “Togetherness Is All I’m After”, with the dropping tempo allowing some finer feeling and vocal range to return, but tracks like “Cell Phone Blues”, “Love Chant”, and “Marauders”, feel forced and lumpen.

While there’s a bit of a formula to be spotted, it’s one that works for them--given that it’s new to us, it’s easy to appreciate and doesn’t wear too thin over Weird Sister's duration.