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.