Even when the songs falter – the clunky ‘Dove Cameron’, or the over-filtered ‘Dream Scenario’ – they fail interestingly. This isn’t a pristine album. It mutates, glitches, repeats itself.

This is Svenonius with just an electric guitar, a microphone, an analogue-sounding drum machine and a tape deck, creating the rawest and most stripped-back manifestation of his singular muse to date.

Songs Of Praise is an ambitious, ferocious debut from a band who might just have something new to say about being a (load of white men in a) guitar band.

Machine is an album of military rhythms, deep sub pressure, rasping bass synths heavy enough to take chunks out of the earth, and massive, driving, low-end drones that occasionally sound like weeping hairdryers. Yet, through all of that, there are glimpses of a melodic melancholia.

Age of sees Daniel Lopatin, like the AIs of his album, escape his digital restraints and make his most human record to date.

It’s a record like Lice’s that can reinvigorate and re-energise. Yes, it may be at the end of some sort of sonic spectrum but your ears will become less misted and more clear.

The whole record feels hauled from a dream space where you’re laid on your back letting the sky sink down to you. It’s ‘Shadow of a Doubt’ the album.

[The title track is] a challenging conclusion to a beautifully crafted, exploratory piece of work.

The overall mood then is distinctly chill and pleasingly psychedelic. There’s enough space echo going on here to tranquillise a horse. Like cLOUDDEAD or Donuts, Few Good Things is one of the great bedroom hip hop records.

It feels more that Earth have given us time to absorb what may come to be seen, in retrospect, as something of a magnum opus.

By conveying the masculine and feminine duality inherent in old musical traditions and modern musical developments, Bruun has composed a truly rewarding record that defies direct categorisation.

Remarkable record. .... Of The Earth is so much more than an expected next step, far greater and more expansive than a development of earlier themes and ideas. For all that Shabaka’s journey has already proved to be long, winding and singular, you leave this record convinced that he’s only just getting started.

With tracks that demonstrate Bell’s versatility by encompassing spirit-of-Madchester-infused workouts, lush electronica and krautrock. Impressively, the album does this while maintaining coherence, never seeming less than the sum of its parts.

That Cowboy Junkies are still making music this far down the line is to be applauded. That it ranks with the very best of their material deserves nothing less than an ovation.

With Safe, Visionist has created a work so forward-thinking it's positively post-modern.

His background on the harder edge of modern dance music means that, for all its delicacy, Severant never feels retro or overly derivative.

Her latest creative effort, Tommy on Hyperdub Records, is the darker, more mature, older sibling to Lagata, and another firm exposition of her unique and extensive vocal ability and her creative, DIY production style.

It’s an album that if you take it at face value will delight, but if you stick around and penetrate its surface, you’ll find one of the most transfixing albums in recent years.

This is Pallett’s most ambitious album to date, filled with complex string sections, captivating melodies and the kind of lyrics that show a love for life seldom heard.

The album as a whole feels like a dream that’s always at risk of being interrupted by reality, where pure bliss is just out of reach. But there’s more power in the in-between anyway.

Each creative filament feels fully charged, dancing across tides of mercurial water. Lattimore’s harp echoes and elevates a time that harks back to a more distant past and Barwick’s synths and siren-calls keeps us in the glass-edged moment.

Slave Vows, then, is a masterpiece, its black-hearted explosions and sordid vibes coming from a darker place than most of those pantomiming their way through rock & roll. But while there’s bleakness here, there’s also that sulphurous sound of resistance, of high drama at very real stakes.

How To Stop Your Brain In An Accident is right up there with the giddy heights of Travels With Myself And Another and proves how downright essential FotL are.

The proverbial mask might be off but The Armed still have us in a headlock, forcing us to look at the atrocities we’d rather turn away from or scroll past.

The approach behind Two Ribbons is omnivorous, forming a vibrant kaleidoscope that fluidly twists between genres. ... Despite its more gentle touch, the album’s spirit remains restless, transmogrifying.

This is a very smart record, and one that bears repeated listening. The emotional maturity and frank lyricism shine through the electronic sounds and idiosyncrasy of her style, and ultimately good songwriting finds a beautiful symbiosis of sound and text.

Pretty much the whole way through, without pausing for breath, Pray For Me I Don’t Fit In sounds like a carnival band decided to make a covers album of 90s industrial rock classics. I don’t reckon this is an influence they’re especially punting for. However, happily or not, it’s where they land. This is a thrilling mosh, though it can get annoying.

Experimental music inevitably engenders pretentious music writing, yet when it's as good as Behold it creates a listening experience that altogether dwarfs any linguistic rationalisation. This is a record of light and shade, and one that demands your fullest immersion.