The music on Big Inner is so wondrous that it seems entirely obvious that we’ll always find that peace, joy and contentment in music rather than anywhere else.

There’s a balanced mix of wistful folk, and rockier, more radio-friendly offerings which lure in the casual listener, ensuring an enduring record that warms the cockles in these frosty fledgling weeks of 2013.

The Skrillex moment aside, there are really no glaring missteps here.

Their first full-length doesn’t feature too many surprises, and a lot of the cuts have already been released in one way or another, but start-to-finish, it’s an honest conflagration of scuzz that will leave jaws agape, eyes moist and hearts full.

Sadly, so much of Somewhere Else exists in such a haze that it’s difficult to really find anything to sink one’s teeth in to.

Drenched in minimal, slow and moody arrangements, Badwater, like Speck Mountain’s previous efforts, gives no apology for its intentional pace. In fact it revels in it.

This second album is less of a record than an experience. You truly get a sense of cosmic alignment here.

It’s probably fair to say that if you’re not a fan of drone or ambient music then Centralia is unlikely to change your perception of the genres. However as a document of the music of Mountains, it’s their finest work to date.

Let It All In is another strong album in I Am Kloot’s canon, and one which should hopefully see their status as songwriting legends confirmed.

This is a marked improvement on the density of their first effort, and sounds like a band who have grown very sure of themselves in the best way possible.

A master of mesmeric laments, Roberts can conjure dusky cemetery air in a twitching of his fingers or sombre exhalation, yet A Wonder Working Stone offers high spirits in the gloaming as well as low.

Oak Island is an exciting ride with uplifts, lulls and a sporadic note of menace--but the all-round brilliance of Slave Ambient ensures that Nightlands is just a quality aside for now.

What happened to Jason Chung’s mind and body in the last three years to prompt such a hesitant album is unclear, but despite its flaws, Home feels like the perfect encapsulation of weakness turning into strength.

In places Toro Y Moi succeeds effortlessly in adapting the mainstream for his own alternative means, but frustratingly, at times is only as meaningful as few comedy jabs of the ’90s dance demo button.

True North is another solid addition to a formidable canon.

Just as it really gets going and starts shining, it splutters and finishes, leaving a sort of empty feeling.

If you’re willing to spend some time in Widowspeak’s headspace, chances are you’ll find yourself wanting to roam Almanac’s enchantingly surreal landscapes a little longer each time you visit.

He has not made a classic here, but he may have made an album which allows him to do so again in the future.

Wrapped in ’60s nostalgia and emphasising the complexities of emotions, the record really has a little of everything, except true love.

For the most part, then, The Flower Lane is a glowing ember of a record that shares much of the spark of Mondanile’s “day job” band, but also a little of their occasional tendency toward stylistic appropriation over dedication to content and originality.

While the album is pleasant enough listening, and certainly doesn’t make you want to block up your ears, it is just too plastic-sounding to yield any lasting substance.

On Wonderful, Glorious, Mark Everett not only has the songs but also a band capable of delivering the sort of breadth and depth of response he needs to keep the Eels vehicle moving onwards and upwards.

At 40 minutes, this is an easily digestible, at times highly enjoyable and always playfully inventive listen.

Pedestrian Verse sees Frightened Rabbit make a triumphant return to the magnificent songwriting present on their lauded second album, The Midnight Organ Fight.

It’s the witty and indirect way Thao and her band approaches the subjects in these songs that makes We The Common a minor delight.

Regions of Light and Sound of God is as succinct as he’s ever been on record, and while it doesn’t exactly live up to its grandiose title, it’s a fascinating musical backroad to find yourself stranded in.

The results can be more chilly than chilled this time, not always making for an easy listen, but there’s certainly a process at play here.

There’s still plenty to bewitch the listener, particularly if your shelves are stacked with the likes of, say, The Darling Buds, Kirsty MacColl or Allo Darlin’, but it’s a more refined approach, shall we say.