Even if it doesn’t always hit the mark, Evergreen is an album that should see Gunnulfsen continue to climb festival line-ups and charts alike.

Big Sigh's strength is in not holding back from confronting darker feelings, and revelling in the raw honesty of experiencing them.

The constant changes in tone that come with such disparate collaborators mean that the album never settles into a comfortable groove the way 5:55 or IRM did.

Despite the gentle forays into new styles, the universally relatable stories are still well and present, with enough morbid humour, intricately drawn character studies and down-to-earth wisdom to keep you coming back again and again.

Americana is an album you’ll want to make friends with. If there’s ever been a moment in your life that Ray Davies or The Kinks made better, you’ll find joy here.

With its main influences taken from the distant past, Medieval Femme has an inherently Gothic feel; its mystical sounds transporting the listener through the rich, vibrant history of Arabic music and culture.

Patchy and unfiltered, but charming as all hell, it’s a candid reflection of its creator.

It's yet another successful reinvention from the Californian artist who continues to be an impenetrable force, laying herself bare and rebuilding for all to see and hear.

Despite all this heavenly sunshine, however, the breathy confessionals beneath tell a different story. Out in the Storm proudly flies its flag as a break-up album, albeit one that ignores ‘woe is me’ emo-isms.

Give Utopia Defeated time, and the alien logic that binds this outstanding record begins to unfurl and initial skepticism turns to sheer awe.

The album’s second half slows down and lacks some of the oomph of the first, and the tone does shift around a bit too much, but that’s part of its joy.

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.

His best yet? Perhaps. For the first time ever, the Sheffield hero has chosen not to name the record after a local landmark close to his heart--the irony being, he's never sounded more at home.

Harris says these songs were recorded over a brief but intense period brought to an unexpected stop thanks to a high fever. The album itself is much like that – fleeting, over before you can catch your breath. But, an imprint of something – a distinct mark you’re not quite sure the meaning of--is left behind.

Running With the Hurricane is the sound of a band who have hunkered down at home and found calm at their core. They might no longer be storming the patriarchy with this contemplative collection but Camp Cope has pitched their spot for a bright future, regardless.

With The Jacket, Widowspeak prove once again they can find the irresistible spot between timeless and fresh. It might not be littered with huge, unforgettable moments, but the spell it casts lingers long after the music has finished.

For all the screeching dissonance and politically infused anger present, No Home Record is a real joy of an album, proof if proof were ever needed that Gordon will not allow herself to slide into anything approaching resting on her laurels.

The title track, Cruel World, is a brilliantly deceptive slice of sunshine. .... Elsewhere, the album is quieter and less sure footed.

Aside from the heavenly chorus that opens the title track, this feels very much like business as usual – which is no bad thing. Nada Surf are a fine guitar pop band. There’s not much sense on Never Not Together of them looking to change things up.

Where previous releases under the moniker have explored the grittier, DIY side of house, here Moss leans towards the lush, psychedelic end of the spectrum, and delivers a kaleidoscopic sonic journey that commands you to keep going back.

The best indie rock songs can often lean on the shorter side, giving in to the sugar rush of instantly memorable riffs. But Jordan has no qualms about letting her songs draw out, as they do on Lush. That’s because she always has something important to say and it’s worth listening.

While displaying every tongue-in-cheek, New Age sleight of hand Lopatin is famous for, it all feels less immaculate this time around, more polished for the big screen.

It’s not all headbanging and blistering hooks. Penultimate track Hangovers plays with the classic album construct of a stripped-back number, yet it’s really in the nostalgic nod to emo heartache where Muncie Girls dazzle.

Vocally and lyrically charged, Self Esteem’s debut is one that takes several paths in its journey, revealing Taylor as a remarkable vocalist and a powerful lyricist.

The record’s sequencing underlines its restless thesis: the solemnity of Appointments melts into the weightless bounce of Drop A, a movement from stasis to momentum central to Duterte’s embrace of flux. Past Lives, buoyed by Hayley Williams’ harmonies, erupts into a scale Jay Som once shied from, before collapsing into the spectral murk of D.H.

Four talented youngsters from LA of Asian and Latinx descent, wearing their influences on their sleeves, have produced a light-of-foot album of fun riffs and effectively simple ideas.

Ben Watt’s restrained piano and taut, anxiety-laden synths hang back so Thorn can carry the weight. She’s more than up to the task – her voice now fuller, deeper, enriched by experience, and perfectly suited to narrations about seeking light in the darkness.

Their confidence is so clearly on show here, and despite two fresh members for the album they're already tight and unanimous of their vision: "to make interesting, up-tempo rock & roll."