Yes, B-sides and rarities are sort of supposed to feel rough or incomplete, but A Folk Set Apart seems to be characterised far more by its misguided decisions than by its lack of polish or perfection.

It’s a record that’s full of interesting ideas that needs a few listens to appreciate its subtleties, which are ultimately very rewarding.

If this album was written and performed by humans I would say that, at best, it's a gratifying listen of retro arcade game inspired electronic music and, at worst, a whimsical yet unremarkable collection of instrumentals. Good fun, yet a little inconsequential.

He worked tirelessly to perfect these songs. And it’s a revelation to hear just how he got there, and the compelling missteps and musical frustrations he experienced along the way.

The Home Recordings largely serve as a further step back along the creative path, to a point where we either see songs at their most infantile stage or at a crossroads where Cobain, the tireless perfectionist, probably realised he could take them no further.

Kannon certainly won’t be delivering any Christmas number ones, but what Sunn O))) have managed to deliver is an exhilarating, colon-shaking song cycle of pitch black metal that will perfectly complement those approaching January blues.

For the first time--a stunned silence at the intensity and pace of these cascading arpeggios (19.5 notes per hand each second, apparently, and the world record), these rhythms within rhythms that envelop and sustain. Boy, do they sustain.

Beyond Belief is somewhat less guitar-centric than Along the Way, but otherwise it is more in most every other way.

He has cultivated an allure and a presence by, paradoxically, remaining extremely quiet for long-periods of time. He has survived through the quality of his creative vision. Product streamlines this vision into a singular "product" that although is not an essential purchase, is still essential listening.

At the end of the day, Gibbs is too talented of a rapper to put out a lackluster album, so while Shadow of a Doubt might not go down as one of his classics, it features more than enough quotables and street-smart truisms to be worth a few spins.

Somehow, despite his success, Flowers understands that good music isn’t about what you have, but what could have been, and although his wife must wonder who he’s singing about all the time, the rest of us can press our face against the windows of childhood car journeys, and dream.

It’s not perfect--there are moments, such as during "Old Again", where my concentration has wavered--but when it hits the spot ("Big Bopper", "Guilt", "Acid Tongue"), it’s an absolute tour-de-force.

As an indicator of the kind of music the Wainwrights indulged in at home while they and their many and various offspring went on to charm and dazzle the musical world, this is an invaluable document. For those who simply want a dazzling, slow sunset of a folk record with the occasional lyrical bite--the same applies.

Musically there’s much to tie Rustie to his Scottish compatriot Hudson Mohawke, and though they may be working from the same spreadsheet, at the moment Rustie still remains in is shadow.

Heartache City has much more in common with the band’s first two albums, the freakiness of their folk here is undeniable, but the tracks all share a strong backbone of hip hop and afro-beat which elevates them above the streamlined pop melee.

It’s a testament to his cohesive sound and willingness to defy convention that this record, despite a lack of samples or anything really resembling typical electronic music, conveys emotion as well as it does.

The album’s OTT closer “Sweetest Devotion” doesn’t really provide the conclusion you want either. Despite that, there’s a very good record in here, propped up by a some incredible modern classics (“Hello”, “Remedy”, “When Were Young”, “Love in the Dark”).

Of all albums this year, Elaenia is one that could be--probably will be--discussed for some time. It’s as impressive and rewarding as you want to be.

As good as Modern Dancing is, it just doesn’t quite encapsulate the complete experience of TRAAMS.

Now it’s all about reinvention rather than replicating a sound, and by coalescing various influences and styles Chorusgirl have the balance just about right.

This is an album of sometimes brutal beauty; a risk taken and richly rewarded through a work suggestive of fragility, yet simultaneously attesting to defiance rather than any maudlin self-pity.

On Art Angels, we hear that high art experimentation fall into mainstream territory with only fleeting moments of brilliance.

AQUΛRIA is an interesting, risky record, but too often it confirms the notion that Boots’ development in the booth lags behind his touch on the mixing console.

Though it does wear its influences a little to clearly on its sleeve to be truly original, the end result is a wonderful homage to their heroes and full of some of the best pop to come out of Scandinavia in recent years.

The tempos are brisk, the mood is chirpy. No, make that chirpy chirpy cheek cheek. Keep it at, though, and much, much more compelling depths soon emerge.

The Things We Do sounds like the product of an alternate reality in which Bruce Springsteen was a teenager in the 2000’s who spent all his time crafting the perfect instant messenger away notifications instead of ruminating on small town America. But Alex and his bandmates pull it off with sheer conviction and force of will.

GOD isn’t about sensory pleasure. It’s about sensory gluttony, auditory overload, and revelling in the difficulty of its pacing.

Vulnicura Strings sees Björk restructuring an already phenomenal work of art and creating an even more desolate mood than the phenomenal Vulnicura, where time is frozen but also somewhere to move on from. It’s not a place to visit every day, but whenever you need a reminder about what great art looks and feels like here’s where to go to.