Chasescene will delight existing fans and lure in fresh blood with equal measure.

While Finally Free has a handful of songs that are excellent and some that are simply okay, the vexing dilemma points back to Romano himself. It’s as though he isn’t quite sure the direction to take and that hesitance alone is off putting.

This is a finely crafted, elegiac album.

An album that makes no apologies about its struggles, but it’s one of many moments that confirms Cara’s journey is as authentic as it is unpredictable.

WARM sees this industrious figurehead of intelligent American rock return to a form where he can balance these two extremes effortlessly and make the deeply personal sound thoroughly universal in a manner that is unlikely to leave cold anyone with a heart that is still beating.

The moment you think you've had enough, it's over with, leaving behind a trail of desire to press play, over and over again.

Fourteen years have passed since they arose, and while so much has changed in the world, Art Brut are a welcome constant. Wham! Bang! Pow! Art Brut are back, and better than ever!

While some of the artists brought onto the project feel more tactical than functional, when Ora is placed in the spotlight she tends to deliver.

By interrogating the strategies we employ to keep on living in an impossible world, this astonishing album has become one.

Using music as an outlet for often irresolvable frustrations that we can all share in, Vera Sola establishes herself as a unique talent. On her debut, an album awash with tormenting demons, she emerges unfrightened, defiantly alone, from the shade.

Of course half the fun is in hearing how the band have transformed oh-so-familiar songs into something quite different, and transform them they truly have.

Little Mix’s candidness throughout is admirable, even thrilling in its bravery.

Like many of Dawson’s projects, its effect is gradual but profound: it takes a little time to truly settle into Mogic, but it’s nigh-impossible to leave once you become accustomed to its mores.

A still-formidable effort, but perhaps not the homecoming .Paak would have produced if he'd decided to go his own way.

This retrospective gives the perfect platform for some of Brainfeeder’s forgotten gems to be rediscovered, too. The vivid textures of Teebs, Lapalux’s dystopian soul and Taylor McFerrin’s retro glow are a beautiful reminder of the unsung heroes that have helped keep the label’s sound moving forward. Not ones to dwell on the past, the second half looks to the future, giving fans a brief glimpse of things to come.

The ten songs on this thing really are special, and worthy of the epic introduction tacked on to every article about it.

Everything is presented with a glossy sheen which may prove too much for some, especially fans of arguably their best album, 1998’s underrated and unloved Adore, and as with every other Pumpkins album, it’s hard to see where Corgan and Chamberlin end, and the other players begin. Yet if you weren’t expecting much from this latest attempt at keeping the band alive, you'll be impressed at how revitalised they sound.

It achieves the toughest task for a soundtrack--to maintain interest independent of the images it was built to accompany and accentuate--with impressive ease.

Cocoon Crush is a portrait of an artist in transition. It’s rough around the edges, occasionally stunning, and always surprising.

BTR best functions as a way to experience every mode that Grace has to offer as both songwriter and vocalist. It’s also the closest that Grace has come to letting others in and having a direct dialogue with the outside world.

Elastic Days will for many be a welcome catch up with Mascis, and for those not yet acquainted, it is the perfect place to say hi.

The results are expectedly bonkers, with some of Ling’s tales ushered into songs and others scored by improvisations, the collection bound by a deeply English eccentricity and a shared love of pop music's spikier edges.

Clearer in vision and production than debut Shapeshifter, Crush Crusher is especially potent in the trios that start and end the album.

Thresholder is a triumph of meticulously detailed composition and, at the same time, a masterpiece that seems to evolve, albeit in an unnaturally sepulchral soundworld of fragmentation, from the simplest of sources into a life-affirming wholeness.

It’s an album that sets out to excite and take risks and be messy. Alternately visceral and cerebral, and building with a whole new set of tools, UMO’s second release this year feels like a band bursting from their bubble; saying plenty about both Nielson’s fevered creativity, and the future of his cherished project.

Sincere, moving and musically ambitious.

There is palpable pleasure--for both McCallum and her listeners--as she shrugs off her old identity and, in losing her voice, goes in search of herself.

Be warned: a full appreciation of this album requires numerous listens - it offers little at first glance, but the moment you surrender yourself to this fate, all becomes clear.