Which isn’t to say that she gets everything right--the new arrangements of both Killer and Georgia lack the immediacy of their originally released versions--but when she does, you can see her making a long career of this.

Ultimately, like the Henry Moore sculptures she mentions near the album’s end, Harding’s songs can be as mundanely lifelike from afar as they are strangely alien up close.

God Games provides glimpses of what makes The Kills so compelling, but is unlikely to convert many new listeners to the cause.

A memorable addition to Chasny’s admirable body of work.

From the bombastic earworm title track to the pulsating requiem that is Paradise, to the twisted pop spectacle We Cannot Resist, Animal is utterly intoxicating – something that cannot be contained. Surrender to it.

There are long stretches, particularly during the muted take on V1 in which the pieces are impressive rather than affecting, where you can marvel at Malone’s skill with timbre without being moved in any way. It leaves a sense that the album feels more like one for the most committed fans of all three artists, but one that, given the chance, has some astonishing moments.

With acute taste and an ability to meld disparate sounds together, bdrmm have a solid formula: radio-rock with more substance, nuance and historical awareness than most of their contemporaries.

It's a decisive success from one of NYC’s most distinct exports – though its head may sometimes come before the beat, it is no doubt an impressive achievement.

As a whole, Anak Ko is the type of project you listen to while allowing the rhythm of the singer to take you away.

The album may not be more than the sum of its parts, but thankfully those parts are packed full of enough weird and wonderful sounds to ensure another excellent Fever Ray album.

The Lookout perhaps does not give up its pleasures as easily as some of her earlier records. There are triumphs here--not least the title track which marches along at a sprightly pace graced by some lovely violin sounds. But there are also songs that worry at their subjects, circling and darting in and out of the light.

At times, these eccentric – and often downright baffling – transitions in style and tone can be disorienting, but they also speak to Cunningham’s dexterity as an electronic auteur, and his refusal to play by the rules.

In its 13 tracks and just shy of 40 minutes, Wide Awake! shows perhaps the band's broadest emotional range to date with a healthy dollop of anger on display (see Violence or Before the Water Gets Too High).

An album of just Danilova's entrancing voice would be sufficiently good, but ARKHON shows a restless creativity that warrants all of your attention.

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.

Good at Falling has a feeling of the relief that comes after crying. It takes a moment to sit in sorrow, to feel every inch of it, only to find it washed away by hope and gratitude.

Compared to Tillman’s previous releases as Father John Misty, Chloë and the Next 20th Century feels like an immense achievement musically, while not wholly dropping the cynical and whimsical elements of his songwriting.

Despite its name, there’s nothing ambiguous about Tune-Yards’ return. They’re back with bombast and the permission to take a breather if it all gets too much.

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

Allison’s debut Tourist in This Town shows she certainly has the potential to go it alone too, provided it’s on her own terms.

The Arctic Monkeys of old are long gone and so too should any expectations of them returning to dirty dancefloors. With The Car, the band become increasingly comfortable in their lounge-laden musical attire.

At times it feels like a strange fusion of medium and message but it’s a triumph that Catholic Action manage to imbue an increasingly staid format with some revolutionary zeal.

Over the course of their unabashedly DIY-sounding debut – whether that sound is merely an invocation rather than authentic, you can’t deny that it nails it – these songs walk the same line of art rock as Goo and Dirty-era Sonic Youth.

While Deafheaven's change in direction isn't an unwelcome one, there isn't quite the same rush as their previous best efforts, as they adapt to their new surroundings. Minor gripes aside, Infinite Granite proves Deafheaven's mettle and shows you don't always have to shout loud to hit hard.

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.

On this latest opus, Washington and company are a tightened-drum of an ensemble that effortlessly flit between an intense focus and a playful freedom, and the results are stunning.

The risk of taking that deliberately vintage tack is contrivance, and though this album tows the line occasionally, it never disappears into itself.

The Nashville Sound isn't a bad record by any estimation, but there are flat moments.