Former Things indicates more ambition, comfort in shifting tones and overall sophistication in its production which ultimately proves a more rewarding listen. A thought-provoking and reaffirming record.

It’s not always effective – there are moments of meandering, repetition and filler, points at which the band seem to reach their textural limits, and the occasional re-hashing of an idea they’ve already explored – but what’s most striking about Guadalupe Plata is that even these missteps gel perfectly with the ritualistic atmosphere they’ve whipped up. This is a brisk record, but one that leaves a marvellously macabre impression.

This album will certainly tick a lot of boxes for Super Furry acolytes, but for those who couldn't take to the SFA brand of avant-pop, Gulp should provide you with a nerdgasm or ten. Library electronics, jangly loftiness and enough in the way of melodies and choruses to soundtrack your summer.

There are moments where Frost is clearly the architect and noise tamer, orchestrating becalmed undulations that offer repose, often of lament rather than of hope. ... Yet there are just as many moments when Frost lets his muse fuse with unadorned, unadulterated noise, creating arpeggios of tension that ratchet up steadily, the life raft tipping over, all feeling of equilibrium and control ripping away from the listener and composer both.

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.

If you’re welcoming another wired morning, indulging in orgiastic dance floor exploits, or simply want to lose your head, Decius have got you more than covered.

The overall mood is reflective but such things are relative, this is still intense and emotionally heavy stuff.

Each track is executed to perfection as Santi morphs with chameleonic pizzazz.

Music For Drifters is another fine showcase for the prodigious talents of this Sunderland twosome.

In Kuedo’s hands, they’ve landed in nebulous terrain, drifting between possibilities of rhythm and bass, atmosphere and drone, noise and melody. It’s a beautifully complex tapestry.

On Romaplasm, Wiesenfeld seems to have finally made something that could pass as a pop record, exuberant in both its content and execution.

You come through it all not with a standard sense of enjoyment; playing it loud, you really feel like you’ve been through the wringer. But it’s the way that Sex Swing blend textures of psych, krautrock, doom, and goth that rewards those who are prepared to get their ears mangled.

Oneida are really good at this stuff, always managing to ensure that no matter how frazzled they get the whole package packs a hard punch that can only be rock and roll.

It’s different, daring, and, fortunately for the trio’s fans, effective.

The Underside of Power is both the latest chapter in a long-running and universal story that seems to be nearing climax, and solid, sonic proof that Algiers are capable of not just acting with their hearts, but ripping them out and offering them up on record.

Cascade is a unified and more straightforward album from Floating Points, made for those looking for dancefloor elation.

I suspect that you'll be unlikely to come across a better mixed and more punchy summary of current underground dubstep this year.

It’s an album that abounds with details but feels perfectly homogenous, and one can only wonder where Laurel Halo goes from here. It could be very interesting indeed.

I’ve not yet had the chance to hear this music in its natural setting, but perhaps more than any funk full length, Radio Libertadora! gives a real indication of what that might be like.

Even if it could never feel like a childhood's worth of lovingly curated music, and even if the shock of the new's way out of its reach, it's still another out-of-its-time, forensically assembled wonder.

The sense of meticulous balance that dominates 'The Dream' permeates MSOTT.

If arguably too one-note to constitute a stone-cold triumph, the album serves as a charming side-bar to two stellar careers. It is a collaboration that soars without ever quite getting so close to the sun that its wings start to melt.

In keeping with its title, Trouble arrives as a more explosive record than its predecessor, Birch’s first solo album, I Play My Bass Loud. .... The smooth and cohesive production (with the help of Youth from Killing Joke and Michael Rendall) makes Trouble an appealing listen.

TYRON feels like a necessary release for the controversial rapper. Even though he’s placed himself as the centre of attention this time around, there is still plenty of societal commentary to be gleaned from his autobiographical missives – and it’s no less urgent or energising.

Their cover of Ryuichi Sakamoto’s ‘Merry Christmas Mr Lawrence’ feels superfluous and unnecessary. But that aside, this album sees Sherwood and Pinch take a big evolutionary step in their partnership in terms of keeping their inventiveness and the slabs of bass fresh while managing to ditching much of stodge.

Frightening though some of these passages are, the effect is not all hard going. The power of space is writ large everywhere on Burnt Up On Re-Entry, the giddy weight of infinity, the feeling of soaring transcendent journey and ego death--it's all rather exhilarating stuff, especially on a cold January evening.

On Undertow there’s less of the upfront ferocity of previous years but it’s not as if they’re toning anything down, just prolonging the hallucinatory qualities and the twisted, anomalous ardency of their vision.

An album that has not only been well worth the wait but also, a clear indicator of the benefits of having an incubation period and what happens when artists are intentional in slowing down the process in order to get the best results.