Both vivid and dreamlike, each narrative swims in and out of focus without ever being forced; the type of record to return to, again and again.

Bottle It In calmly addresses rough themes with maturity and elegance. On his seventh solo album, Kurt Vile discards the negativity, generating an affirmative landscape of awareness.

This is a record that feels handcrafted for the fans that waited so long for new material. Had you already previously invested in their icy yet sleek sound, then Ladytron is a welcome, if not wholly groundbreaking, return.

Unfortunately, it seems like the record's runtime was set before material was allotted to the space, unleashing a high-octane sugar rush in a space fit to dilute it into the unbearableness of being palatable. There are worse things.

Better Oblivion Community Center isn’t an obvious step forward for either artist but it’s a generous and grounded collection of songs, showcasing the complementary talents of two of America’s most talented songwriters. By the crackling close of final track Dominos, you’re more than glad they opened their doors.

The entire album is a triumphant showcase on how to master percussion, and the finished result is a dreamy 53 minutes that seems to end as quickly as it began. Stunning.

There is a lot going on in PARANOÏA, ANGELS, TRUE LOVE and yet it remains remarkably cohesive. It skilfully borrows and elevates.

The second record from Rachel Aggs and Eilidh Rodgers, Glasgow-based duo Sacred Paws, is an unrelenting, fast-paced doubling down on its energetic predecessor Strike a Match.

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

Skullqueen and Electra Rex mix serenity and apocalypse to excellent effect, with the latter indulging in the manic pitch-shifting you've come to expect from Arca. But the quieter cuts are also nice, like the Björk-ish Joya and hip-hop inflected Señorita (co-written with Max Tundra!).

Whilst it’s fair to say that the offering has been fine-tuned somewhat (frontwoman Lili Trifilio has all but ditched the Courtney Barnett schtick in favour of a far more direct punk-pop far closer in tone to early Paramore), it’s still a solid effort.

Certainly a contender for the most electronic of their canon, Boy King is perhaps also their most compact and claustrophobic release since 2011’s Smother.

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

Suicide Songs sees the trio perfect what they started to build on their debut.

It's perhaps not the finest Hiss Golden Messenger album, but it's certainly one of the most joyful, and in the current climate, maybe that's just what we need.

Amid dense waves of sludgy guitar the classically trained singer manages to make herself heard, hinting at the resilience required to endure in a world that demands too much. Then the album exhales, shifting from confrontation to contemplation. What follows is a gentler, but no less affecting suite of slowcore ballads.

The record ultimately feels like something of a minor work in James’s already imposing output, but remains a pointer to both her and Eastman’s sparkling talents.

Giannopoulos’ writing here has a dark intensity. But by closer Nude Descending, he has opened up to softness: 'I felt like needing your embrace'. The guitars are suddenly frolicking and playful. It’s that crack of hope that permeates the best slowcore.

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

Seven years on from their first record, Shopping are still giving audacious levels of energy. It would be interesting to see the band develop their electronic experiments even further in their next album; though All or Nothing builds on its predecessor, it only gives us a taste of what the trio can do when left alone with a synth.

At its best, Time's Arrow is mystical but commanding, with electric synthscapes pulling you deeper inward. However, at times the sonic landscape they’ve created risks suffocation, leaving little room for manoeuvre between one song to the next – a lighter touch in areas could stand to draw out more subtle nuances and make for a more compelling journey overall.

Even at the midpoint meltdown of Pain’s insistent fuzz-mangling, it's all sumptuously glazed with a thick veneer of moreish melody and buzzing hooks.

This is a record made by people who you sense are full of all of the possibilities of the world, looking to cram it all in and make some fine music as a soundtrack. They've done a pretty great job so far.

The first half of All of This Will End hits with some serious force. The lyrics are forthright and clear, , and the arrangements are stripped back to their grungiest essence. ... With the arrival of the title track, the back half slides into a (relatively) mellower mood. ... The lyrical sharpness is still there, especially on absentee father-based Always (featuring some choice yells), but there's more reverb and layers to the arrangements now.

It’s a confident, competent step forwards from a sure-footed talent, earning its repeat listens through mature considerations. And there will be repeat listens--just you try not to.

While Mr So and So shows the gig perv no mercy, elsewhere Hanna’s bonehead-nailing, predudice-lancing manifesto reverberates, as ever, with humanity and truth.

In short, they make experimental rock sound so easy when the reality is anything but.

Although there’s a clarity and confidence in the slower pace of Lips That Bite and the darker post-punk textures of Somos Chulas (No Somos Pendejas) (translating roughly as 'We’re Elegant/Intelligent (We’re Not Dumb)')--sensing that Downtown Boys are capable of ever greater ferocity, you just want to urge them on even further.