Silver Wilkinson is a solid return to (mostly) familiar, territory.

There is more than enough genuine, heartfelt emotion and originality coursing through Four (Acts Of Love), with Mick Harvey proving himself yet again to have a tender touch when it comes to the delicate business of affairs of the heart.

Its mood is all over the place, but that suits it.

That lack of wildness makes Modern Vampires of The City, while always thoughtful and often beautiful, the least captivating of their three albums.

It is a good record, brimming with lavish, romantic nostalgipop that will rekindle your love for Grease, neckerchiefs and pomade.

Savages own a gravitas, a brooding confidence and effortless cool, that no matter how cynical or wary of pretentiousness you are, will be suck you in.

The London four-piece mix and match ingredients to create sounds that, whilst respectful of what has gone before, are unmistakably rooted in the here and now. The results are frequently mesmerising.

It’s a foot-tappingly bundle of disco-pop that is not ashamed of its influences and refuses to bore for even the shortest of moments.

This is a pleasant plateau he’s found himself on, and it’s a perfect launching platform for further, more avante-garde endeavours.

Like so much of their previous output, it’s an incredibly bittersweet listen, but this time it’s less about Lewis’ wistful reflections and more to do with rueing what might have been if they’d continued; those first four cuts hint at a genuinely superb record having been in the works pre-split.

While not remotely original--the unabashed attempt to salvage the last remains of anthemic indie-rock music is admirable in itself.

Some will appreciate the record for the bursts of soul-infused pop, others will take time to grasp the tiny details and appreciate the deeper layers of Sing To The Moon.

Bigfoot is bittersweet; cheerful and charming in small doses, and--as that’s all you get--it’s time well spent.

For fans of expertly crafted summer toe-tappers, its gifts are ample enough for a summer fling, although perhaps few will be looking for more.

THR!!!LER is a significantly more organic record, one where picturing the band having the time of their lives bashing it out in a practice space requires no effort at all.

What William Tyler does is reach back into the past with complete honesty, and by doing so he’s able to create new and exciting sounds from the social, political and geographical changes of a particular period.

While Praxis Makes Perfect does boast some terrific, shimmering, moments, it simultaneously puts hurdles in the way of an easy listen, especially towards the end where it all gets a bit... well, dull.

The line between progression and self-indulgence in music is largely a flimsy one. However, The Phoenix Foundation walk it beautifully.

Themes and aims aside, Sub Verses is simply an example of Akron/Family’s continued good run of form, and undoubted confidence.

Johnston has made and most importantly shared a very good record here, one that stands as a reminder of his immense talent, of his longevity, of his kindness in spreading the benefit of his skill among younger, adoring fan-bands and yes, if you must, his power to overcome those much discussed mental problems.

It’s a far more eccentric record than their first effort, stretching past the obvious influences that led to their pigeonholing as a shoegaze band, but loses a little of the unbroken, hypnotic atmosphere as a result.

This compilation, of tracks from 2003-2013, captures what’s utterly brilliant about the A&C roster by mixing the hits with rarer tracks, giving perhaps the definitive overview of the Canadian music scene of the past ten years.

'We Make Pop Music’ adds another to their storied catalogue of press-aware music about music and similarly sounds like the band as they stand in a nutshell. Then there’s the second disc of B-sides, the original versions of the first two singles, more reined-in versions of songs from It’s A Bit Complicated left over from an aborted session with Pulp‘s Russell Senior, covers (the Beatles, the Cure, We Are Scientists) and assorted offcuts, none of which are essential but which add more layers to Argos’ wracked character.

This time around, however, the influences are mashed together more thoroughly, creating a uniquely rich stew where country, soul, rock ‘n’ roll, gospel, folk and more exotic influences mingle freely.

While there is nothing astounding or extraordinary about The Still Life, what it does is indicate that Alessi Laurent-Marke is a songwriter and musician who already shows a real promise of creating something very special later on in her career.

This is lightless, horrifically bleak electronic music, but it still sounds human despite its lack of words, melodies or analog instrumentation; there’s a tangible personality to it that’s all its own.

They’ve not quite mustered the courage to take the plunge yet, and instead what we have with FM Sushi is a band teetering on the cusp of greatness.

Desperate Ground is another great demonstration of what makes this band one of America’s worst kept secrets.