Nothing remains a heady listen, but there’s an embodied immediacy that’ll make it easy to return to when the sun hits our skin again.

Redirecting the euphoric energy of the club toward creative ends, City of Clowns is a rallying call for a more humane digital future.

While a few of the songs feel somewhat repetitive, they are more than compensated for with the experimentation and risk-taking on tracks like Angel Like You and Could Be Machine.

All up, it’s an energetic, accomplished debut from a group of highly-seasoned musicians, making Flat Worms an emerging outfit with a fuck-tonne of punked-up potential.

It's a little front-loaded as the first three songs are by far the most immediate (except Witness and Pour Another) and memorable. But luckily, Tall Poppies anchors the closing songs with its six-plus minutes (nothing else exceeds four), painting a grim portrait of dreary, provincial life without being condescending (ahem, Model Village) or reductive (Glory Days).

Cala is a beautifully crafted addition to his collection. The record will appeal to those who enjoy soothing melodies and imaginative lyrics, as the Irishman continues to follow his own wonderful path.

It’s an album of growers, taking its time to reach unconventional climaxes. But there’s nothing fluffy about it; Jordan’s delivery is clean, precise and exudes confidence well beyond her years.

Grizzling, fuzzy guitars occupy a large amount of the album lead parts and chord shifts between major and minor mix up the mood while still retaining a positive outlook and feeling of cheery hopefulness. It’s short, sweet and easily one of the band’s best efforts to date.

The sound is raw and grinds with edgier and harder beats, perhaps signalling a new direction for the group’s versatile beatmaker, DJ Próvaí. .... A well put-together album, thanks in part to working alongside super-producer Dan Carey.

Luckily, the finished product is articulate and bubbling with energy and positivity--much like Lekman himself.

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.