Always Strive and Prosper is arena rap in jet-set dance-pop drag, and while A$AP Ferg’s talent occasionally flickers when it’s directed in the wrong places, it shines brightest when he’s just being himself.

Niki & the Dove are making their own quiet contribution to politics on Everybody’s Heart is Broken Now and at the same time having a subtle evolution, rather than revolution, of their own. Same band, different tempo, slow riot.

There is a lot to appreciate here: Gnod have proven themselves adept in new areas, at carefully crafting tension and unease that hovers on the precipice of climax, in what's the heaviest record of the year so far.

It sounds like they’ve given kautrock an intense, life-threatening electric shock, while simultaneously floating through 41 minutes (or your entire lifetime, dare you interrupt the endless loop) with the elegance and unpredictability of a kite in the sky.

Dälek have stepped out just enough to create an album that sits comfortably within the band's discography, and deserves to be cherished.

It's a tumultious mixing pot of important issues, personal emotion, raw refrains, and cotagious hooks that makes their words hammer straight home.

While Bombino and his fellow Tuareg's music is now well settled in the same market, the rebellion which fuels their music is very real, and as such, Azel is a breath of fresh air.

For all the tragedy that’s to be found within Singing Saw, it is a warm, welcoming album, every second of it informed by a knowledge of the transience of all things.

What’s most impressive about the Blind Spot EP is not only how deftly Lush have mined the sound that made them a real treasure in the first place, but that they’ve matured without sounding tired, cash-in or merely nostalgic.

This is Suuns’ third album but their essence hasn’t changed, just honed.

By coalescing a number of everyday influences – from Television to John Cale--and adding her own distinctive formula, Crab Day doesn’t really sound like anything else out there.

What a solo album with all of his own bars over all of his own beats would have sounded like, we’ll never know; The Diary does more than enough to fire all of our imaginations, though.

Ultimately the potential legacy of BFF Hosted by DJ Escrow lies with the future artists it may inspire.

Where the band truly shines is when it strikes a balance between erudite musicianship and songwriting prowess.

Going the high fidelity route was definitely a risk this far into Woods’ existence, but the band never fully embraced the lo-fi label, and City Sun Eater proves that everything about them sounds just as strong with or without the fuzz.

This is not simply Koi No Yokan 2.0: if anything, its true parallel is White Pony, another moment in the band’s history that seemed to find them catching lightning in a bottle, condensing all of the elements that made their early sound so intriguing together with as-yet-unheard influences and producing a classic in the process.

By letting their political frustration run away with them, they’ve carved out their own identity and worn it on their sleeves; the results are engrossing.

We’re left with an album that hides behind the idea of specificity--the title and the lyrical content certainly want you to believe as such--but that ultimately provides a ferocious observation of our lopsided society. It’s also the best out-and-out rock record that Harvey’s made since Uh Huh Her.

Its resistance to structure creates in the listener a heightened awareness of each individual sound, and the resulting friction or harmony when pressed against another.

Ironically it improves with age, so pop it on little and often--most tracks are around 90 seconds anyway--and let it grow on you.

As a whole Brilliant Sanity is as fresh as it is reminiscent, as catchy as it is challenging and thoughtful--a welcome nod to what has been, with a firm eye on the horizon.

This is pop music as it should be: simple, unvarnished, young but world-weary, and ultimately timeless.

It’s an album that coheres more effectively than did the first, and it’s one that shows an adventurousness while staying within sight of the elemental spirit of its inspiration.

What the other releases do so well is that they either hit the spot hard or deliberately miss for effect, but this time round the result seems to be somewhere in between.

Super is a grower--a brave rejection of pipe and slippers, embracing the mythical dance floor with admirably vacuous experimentation, even if it mines the mid-nineties, when dance music grew least interesting.

Bleached don’t really break away from the tried-and-true pop-rock template here. When it’s done quite this energetically, though, it’s hard to care--especially when the sense of catharsis is so palpable.

Pennied Days is an album anyone who has ever been in love with rock music should listen to, and it has the kind of universal appeal that should mean big things for Night Moves down the road.

It’s a very strong release, energetic and intense, and promises a high-octane finale.