While still creating boundless, exceptional fringe-pop, on Platform Herndon is finding countless new ways to hold our attention: deploying a greater sense of narrative, an emboldened melodic arsenal and enough enthusiasm to remind us why she remains a vital voice in peripheral pop.

Overall, though, this is a satisfyingly substantial listen.

Unlike previous Hot Chip records there is arguably no definitive “single”, but a coherent collection of ten songs that burst at the seams with ideas and hooks, and provides some of Hot Chip’s most gorgeous pop songs to date.

Ultimately though, there's more here that will shock than will appease.

Whether it’s dark and driving or elegant and echoing, Vultures is at all points capable of igniting a spark in your gut that’ll burn until there’s nothing left.

At times, it verges on saccharine, but these heart-felt, jubilant moments are so unexpected they are actually endearing.

The band is tighter, more focused, and have honed their sound ever more slightly, tossing in snippets of texture and becoming even leaner.

A work of striking, defiant abstraction that cements Braxton’s position as one of the most interesting composers of modern times, and one that’s more than worth careering off the road to.

Yes, this is serious music, but it blends a mischievous sense of fun and incredulity at its heart.

Hairless Toys is no mere pastiche of a scene; there is no major departure in terms of style for Murphy. It is, however, a surreal and poignant exploration of an iconic cultural movement.

There are moments that remind us that Watson can still work a great melody, but Love Songs For Robots is by no means contains his best work.

Overall, Heyoon is an impressive effort, broad in its scope and ambitious in its reach. Landshapes possess passion in excess, and this is made evident in the unbridled rhythmic ruptures and psychedelic pulses that define the record.

It’s hard-hitting, but behind every tightly honed riff lies a bubbling sense of optimism, and these songs are as resonant as they come.

Whilst there are fragmented glimpses of influence peppered throughout, the record remains very true to And So I Watch You From Afar’s sound; too much at the beginning, but brilliantly later on.

Throughout the album, Broderick conveys the sense that he has a confidence in his songs to the extent that a hitherto unknown (to him) band can bring out their quality. It’s a risk, of course, but the rewards are at times startling

What remains is a definitively good album, albeit not a great one.

This LP is deliciously ambitious and stunning in the production and collation of such varied elements and influences.

Cronin is often at his best when laid bare, and one of MCIII's greatest moments is the relatively sparse closing track "vi) Circle."

Like its predecessor, it’s a little too long, but California Nights reaffirms the things that Crazy for You had me believing and The Only Place had me doubting; that Cosentino is a fine songwriter with a keen ear for melody, that Bruno’s guitar work is the perfect foil for her.

It’s nuanced, subtle and magnetically beautiful.

With II, Metz have done more than enough to cement themselves as the new kings of transgressive hard rock, and that's a crown which is going to be difficult for anyone to wrestle from them.

Some might consider it messy, and the old adage is, life is messy; well, the latter is true, which lends it its exhilarating beauty.

It’s music from an imagined film, not an imaginary film in music; and although laudably ambitious, it goes down as an opportunity missed.

At its finest, The Waterfall balances between mad and magnificent.

By stepping into this unfamiliar territory, he’s not only proved that he’s the dynamic and hugely talented producer that those early EPs hinted at, but he’s ended up just inches away from making that record he’s aiming for.

In the end, few of the songs here approach the heights promised by his debut. But Scott, still just twenty-two, deserves the time and the encouragement to develop what is very clearly a unique voice.

It’s Blur at the top of their game, as they had been, as they should have always been, as they deserve to be.

Deep In The Iris feels like something of a sidestep for the band, a digression that toys with candour while still being dominated by a carefully calculated instrumental palette. Overall, their song structures are more concise than they’ve ever been, and they demonstrate an increasing willingness to draw from popular paradigms.