What it does signify is a willingness to embrace and learn the uncomfortable from a prolific artist whose output may have seemed set in its ways. Malkmus’ continuing willingness to think outside the box is much appreciated.

With this slice of US college rock, tinged with British humour, the band prove that they can maintain this essential quality of their sound, even as they mature.

Nostalgic, dramatic and not exactly short on synth, Iteration is the kind of album necessary to help us battle through the rest of 2017.

This has been billed as his most reflective album, a chance to make connections across his musical career but there’s a quiet confidence too, delivering some of his most intricate arrangements and roaming far beyond the Americana tag that he was often filed under. C’est La Vie just goes to show, you never can tell.

There are lyrical themes explored here – social media and the 'digital you' face criticism, as expected from an act sonically indebted to the past – but they are window dressing for songs full of rhythm, forward motion and tightly packed kinetic energy.

The record successfully transfers all the eagerness of their energetic live shows to portray punk with unusual tenderness.

Fans of experimentation with hardware in live shows, and evident in this work, Blondes have mixed all of these elements and delivered a fine album in Warmth.

If You Had Seen the Bull’s Swimming Attempts You Would Have Stayed Away provides three distinct sonic variations in its first minute alone, and does not rest on its laurels from thereon out. It encapsulates O Monolith, and elevates it.

All Nerve shrugs off any burden of a ‘come-back’ and becomes a truly rare thing: a wild, visionary, timeless rock album.

Across the record, Kelela’s striking and deeply affecting vocals are baked into sultry, hypnotic soundscapes that captivate and hold onto the listener at every turn.

The further away Hansard gets from his roots, the closer he is to home.

Starting where Enclave left off, Guerilla succeeds in its aim of delivering an aural interpretation of both the physical and emotional trauma attached to conflict.

While Painless is not so far removed from its predecessor that it could alienate existing fans, the closing brace of the mystic and anotherlife present some of the more interesting ideas here, exploring the complexities and capabilities of Yanya's voice, as well as her more ethereal pop chops. If this is hinting at where she's heading next, it’s very exciting indeed.

Homme’s relative subservience is largely to the record’s benefit--he’s clearly happy to ride shotgun for Pop--and the symbiotic alliance renders Post Pop Depression a beguiling listen, fascinatingly experimental, thematically compelling and a deeply intimate portrait of one of the all-time great rock wildmen coming to terms with the idea of retirement.

As ever, Lynch has crafted a strange world thick with foreboding, one that some will find inaccessible. For those willing to stay a while within it, though, there is much wonder here.

Full Moon is an utter joy.

The combination with Yorkston’s folky paeans was haunting and here, barely a year later, they’ve done it again.

Although it's easy to mock Peel's grand idea to create "a seven-movement odyssey" what we should really be doing is praising one of modern electronic music's most enquiring and captivating minds whose skyscraping talent shows no sign of coming down just yet.

Weather sees Hansen and co teasing out some new strands to their winning formula of blissful electronics. At just eight low-stress tracks, this isn't so much a headlong dash for horizons new as it is a gentle evolution, but you could do far worse than kick back and enjoy the weather.

A record that speaks to notions of presence and absence, and the impermanence that underpins all things.

The whole record contains this sense of purity, the songs sitting somewhere between hymns and nursery rhymes, not just in their simplicity but in the sense they seem to have always existed.

What sets Every Inch of Earth Pulsates apart from its predecessors, though, is the sheer urgency of the piece; it crackles with a nervous energy that will surely propel them to new heights.

As a whole this is a moving and interesting new project, proving that the end of a relationship can lead to something new and exciting.

Serengeti in particular is darkly captivating when portraying the self-obsessed Davy. ... Wolf’s typically lush backdrop meanwhile takes in sun-blurred psychedelicism and Pinback indie groove, all cut to a deft hip-hop pulse that’s both brightly hopeful and mournfully direct.

30 years since the release of Pure, Godflesh continue to sound as relevant as ever.

A challenging but rewarding album, Aviary continually grasps towards communication, exulting in common humanity amid societal ruptures.

There Is No Other is a similar, gentle masterpiece [to Beck's Morning Phase], but there's leather located behind the silk and the record packs an emotional punch.

The result is a suite of modern classical pieces that freewheel on orbits both real and imagined; a caul of percolating strings, woodwind and guitar, circumnavigating in loose patterns.

Loading all but two songs with features leads to a certain amount of tonal whiplash, but Brown has the chops, charisma and unbridled energy to mostly pull it off. Few of the featured performers can keep up with him, but the production is inspired and demonstrates how a newfound clarity and focus have elevated every aspect of his artistry.

There is poetry in silence, and with Vesper Sparrow, Ellis allows us to lean in and hear it.

Citizen of Glass delivers an ambitious and accomplished collection of pretty, ornate artefacts.

That there’s room for experimentation, too (see the spoken word outro to Graceless Kids, or the spacey closer Used to Be) speaks to her confidence. This is the record she wanted us to think California Nights was.

More importantly, though, it’s a different one; another good record in an outstanding discography and hard proof that a goodbye from Teenage Fanclub at this stage would be woefully premature.

I and II are both lean, economical, sweet and seemingly genuine. Both have a similar emotional tone but demonstrate some stylistic differences. The songs on II are a little slower, groovier and less manic.

A few wispy moments aside, there's a solid foundation of synthy techno-pop on Love Hallucination, as well as Lanza's greatest excursion yet in Marathon – a fizzing sex and sax romper that flows into the sultry, downtempo Double Time, a wonderful close to the album after a bit of a lull.

Significant Changes may well plunge you below the surface but by the time you reach final track Conclusion, tying in perfectly with the album's overriding scientific theme, we're ever confident that even deeper sounds are still to come from Jayda G.

Ace manages not to overwhelm its simply lovely melodies under sweeping layers of orchestration. With moments of sheer, sunlit beauty unfolding unexpectedly among the churning winds, Madison Cunningham shows us it’s well worth weathering the storm.

For those not attuned to Peggy’s ability to tap into the zeitgeist, All My Heroes Are Cornballs won’t provide a lyrical turning point. But as a showcase for his skills as a producer, it should win over even the most dyed in the wool critics.

Sticky harmonies and the running theme of longing for something more are just a few elements that make both GUV I and GUV II very fun, intriguing listens.

Dark Eyed Messenger explores themes of love, loss, nature and memory with the sort of understated evocativeness Crowley has made his own.

A raucous expression of love, TANGK is raw, vulnerable and inimitably IDLES.

It’s fitting BODEGA’s debut has all the essentials covered; wry wit, shrewd observations and a vision of art rock’s finest punk party. Like, listen, like, like.

The quintet may wear their influences on their sleeve, and pretty broadly at times, but there is such a fascinating range of them for such a young band that Permo can only be seen as a success, both as a record but also within a long line of great Glasgow bands.

The ex-Coral songwriter is unafraid to experiment on Yawn, and--aside from a few songs that lose a little of their immediacy due to similar tempos and an abundance of shoegaze guitar--the likes of Mither ('Is that your key in the door / Nothing else would mean more') showcase Ryder-Jones as one of the most distinctive, comforting and essential voices we have.

By committing to one idea Maus has found a focal point around which to craft his own musical identity.

Heavy Like a Headache feels like the natural next step and successor to Infancy and Happy Days! Expanding on both to enhance their playfully experimental and yet confident, brooding sound, it strengthens their status as one of Scotland’s most exciting bands.

Chaos often ensues within oneself following heartbreak, and Maine captures that devastating chaos beautifully on Ricky Music, sometimes too accurately. It’s not always an easy listen, but it’s certainly a very relatable one.

Her talents won’t be a surprise to anyone familiar with her band, but laid bare like this, her imagination is startling and singular.

A timely and exciting collection of songs.

Shade contains some of Harris’s most and least accessible work.

Skeleton Tree might be, to flip the phrase, a mile deep and an inch wide. The lyrics are often beautiful, and when he can be concrete, Cave conjures unforgettable, living images.

If you’re a fan, rest easy knowing that PABH have done good. The Haze is their best yet. For the rest of you, make a bonfire of your Foo Fighters, Biffy Clyro and Bring Me the Horizon records. You’ve got no need for them anymore. PABH are it.

For a band at this stage in their career, Blood, Hair, and Eyeballs is a surprisingly solid return. Die-hard fans will love it regardless, but if you haven’t checked in with AK3 for a while – now's the time. They still have their spark.

Sløtface’s songs reach out to a disenfranchised youth, much like the pop-punk bands that dominated the airwaves in the late 90s and early 00s did. Although the band members may be too young to remember that time, they are doing a good job of making those who can nostalgic for it.

Slowdive are scene vets that have seemingly perfected their sound, but still have enough drive to keep nudging it forward, one shimmering soundscape at a time.

Occasionally Ibibio Sound Machine venture a little too far into the wilderness with some slightly half-baked R'n'B and a rather meandering slow number, but they’ve taken risks and for the vast majority of this superb record, it has paid dividends.

Pixies needn’t ever escape their core identity, but they can enhance it like they have done here.

It takes a few listens to even begin to peel back its multi-layered complexity. It’s a triumph, though: a dense, paranoid and phenomenally pretty exploration of post-millennial wonder that’ll keep you coming back, even as it fills the pit of your stomach with dread.

God's Favorite Customer showcases Tillman at his most levelled: sly-tongued and biting, emotional and soulful, articulating life's most complex feelings in a way we can all understand.

There may be nothing here that hits with the immediacy of You or Junk City II, but the sense of control and restraint is well-suited to this kind of headphones music.

That! Feels Good! is a revved-up hedonistic joyride that extols and celebrates the sensual necessity of pleasure. Jessie is firmly in her lane here, and it’s a satisfying drive from start to finish.

New York five-piece Geese are sure to give you… well, goosebumps… with the impressive, impassioned sound of new album 3D Country.

In the End exemplifies the defiance that The Cranberries, and O’Riordan herself have shown throughout their career. Defiance of the status quo, defiance of violence, and ultimately defiance of death. It’s unmissable, unquestionable and unforgettable.

Hyacinth sees a strong progression in production values from its predeccesor. While there's a widening of Spinning Coin's scope here, there's still a tendancy to stick to a familiar formula across the album. Thankfully, they do it well.

Sometimes the influence of others brings a feeling of dilution, reducing the unadulterated Bon Iver experience, but it's hard to begrudge the sheer delight of these songs. The sexy atmosphere of Walk Home, the reflective pedal steel of There's a Rhythm and the peaceful instrumental coda Au Revoir don't match the experimental genius of previous albums, but Vernon and co have never sounded so hopeful and free from worry.

The cumulative effect is sublime and will leave even the most agnostic listener in a state of transcendental bliss.

Circle weighs heavy with its search for meaning, but makes no attempt to gloss over the answers.

The vocal melodies exuded on the album are irresistible. Paired with lush instrumentation, Sink Into Me is in a word, gorgeous, and the perfect soundtrack for a meander in the sunshine or a mellow morning in bed.

Closer Scorpio Purple Skies, a near ten-minute drone glistening with the lap steel of John Also Bennett, gestures to something more elemental and cosmic, the mythic and the earthly folding in on themselves.

Coated in oohs, FX and distortion, the record’s production by Margo Broom (Fat White Family, Goat Girl) is rich and textured. A tight debut, ticking all the boxes; job's done.

aya pushes her sound into more abrasive territory here, yet the record’s most crushing peaks come in its sparser moments, be it the haunting coda of peach, or the subterranean drone of the album’s title track.

Both make exclusively great records, and it’s business as usual here.

By key change three, your tolerance for theatricality may be tested, but Friko’s affinity for arresting melodies makes every twist and turn genuinely exciting and, with its wild, youthful spirit, their second record is the perfect soundtrack for the open road.

While certainly not a work for casual listening, NO TITLE AS OF 13 FEBRUARY 2024, 28,340 DEAD is, in all of its warped, noisy instrumentation, the embodiment of music as art. Removed from corporate influence, conventional song segmentation, and algorithmically tuned track lengths, Godspeed You! Black Emperor are free to convey a message uncompromised.

Crab Day, like its predecessor (the staggering Mug Museum), is underpinned by a bold stoicism far removed from calculable, sweetened melodics. Yet, when it really sparks, as on the mesmerising coda of eight-minute closer What's Not Mine or We Might Revolve (a spare, insistent pummel that recalls the fidgety formalism of early Throwing Muses), it yields an emotional resonance that is difficult to deny and impossible to resist.

Jesu’s crunching, industrial guitar, subtle drum machines and harmonies compliment Kozelek’s meandering, caustic tales differently to past collaborators such as The Album Leaf and Desertshore, but it works just as well, helped by star turns from the likes of Low and Will Oldham.

That’s not to say that Saint Cloud is all moments of quiet self-reflection. Crutchfield’s artful command of heartfelt truths is still present and correct.

It’s been a long time, but Riderless Horse is a timely reminder of what Nina Nastasia has always done. Great songs, performed brilliantly, to devastating effect. A record of powerful simplicity, and a stunning return.

The previously released singles on 1992 Deluxe, Brujas, Tomboy, and Kitana, are still as urgent and energetic as when they first gatecrashed YouTube. The bulk of the album, however, displays a versatility that appears directionless but is nevertheless entertaining and engaging.

After an hour it can be a lot to take in. But for all the soft pads and skittering percussion, the cinematic flourishes that are begging to soundtrack a near-future dystopia (he's already done Black Mirror), there are still enough unique and surprising touches to justify the long runtime.

It’s excellent, and filled with momentum, even if she could have gone a bit more ethereal on the 'ooh-aahs' at the end – we know she has it in her.

The record ultimately comes across as a series of experiments compared to the steely focus of their previous offerings, and perhaps in future will feel like a stepping stone record, but their sheer ability of songcraft means it never drags in its exploration.

The second album from Leschper’s Atlanta outfit Mothers, it reaffirms the band’s talent for making the familiar sound so strange.

The Art of Pretending to Swim is an album that will reveal itself after a few listens.

The album is certainly on the weirder end of the EE spectrum. ... Another great Everything Everything album.

It’s a richly realised record and one that is as powerful a statement in support of Case’s measured musical expertise as it is her long-established prowess as a lyric writer.

A vibrant, eclectic joy.

FEVEREATEN is an act of catharsis scaffolded by rage, disappointment and hope. At their most connected moments, Witch Fever are prophets of a kind, delivering the listener to a space where big things – noises and feelings alike – are welcome.

So What is a delightful addition to the 'I’m doing great, actually' canon, where barely concealed heartbreak begs to be felt under swaggering lyrics and Big Stick is a snarling powerhouse.

At Weddings shows Tomberlin tapping into a tentative inner strength, creating a soothing record that ends up resisting its self-doubts and reaches out its hand.

A work of emotional clarity and quiet resolve, The Passionate Ones is a timely reminder that tenderness can be its own form of resistance.

While the slippery compressed horns and strings snaking through a few tracks feel a little over-sanitised, they do match the sense of unease in Pearson’s lyrics reflecting on loss and pain, like shadows subtly bleeding into her kaleidoscopic soundscape.

Let’s Go Sunshine is a triumph for a band unafraid of pushing their sound, fusing together a variety of influences and flying the indie-pop flag high and proud for all to admire.

SASAMI’s rich authority holds together an album that’s pulling apart at the seams.

While nothing on Woman is quite as bombastic as when † was first unleashed on an unsuspecting public, there's plenty of intriguing stuff to chew on here with deep cuts such as Chorus and Heavy Metal, resulting in a terrific return from the French duo.

Where WU LYF once teetered on the cliff-edge, barking every utterance like they knew it might be their last, they're now sure-footed and comfortable, speaking with a conviction that can only come with experience.

Viagr aboys is a return to form and pushes the band’s strengths to the forefront. Although the album perhaps lacks tracks with the earworm qualities that past songs like Sports had, the band succeeds in creating a bizarre and entertaining listening experience.

Tenderly, expertly picked guitar supports the voice: Byrne doesn't so much sing as exhale and her unforced delivery serves to mesmerise.