Bulat performs with passion and authority. Ten songs and not a hint of filler.

It takes courage to remain open, and Big Thief lead us gently from the beaten path and into the wilderness with U.F.O.F. There are lessons to be learned underwater, in the cold and among the shadows.

It’s varied, it’s vibrant, it’s wacky, it’s experiential. Loss of Life, contrary to its title, is brimming with the stuff and serves as unmistakable evidence of MGMT’s continued renaissance.

Late Developers is not simply a collection of offcuts but a catchier and more diverse collection than its companion piece. It finds the group pulling at the threads around the edges of their sound and, in a couple of cases, striding out into new territory.

Murry's singular talent makes sure this record never sinks beneath the weight of its influences.

There are no overt leaps or shifts in the development of Parks’ sound from her Mercury Prize-winning debut Collapsed In Sunbeams, but there is something to be said of the unbridled confidence and general badassery she exudes on tracks like Weightless and Puppy. Parks also treats listeners to the undeniably beautiful Pegasus.

A record that thrives on its biocentric themes, it’s one you won’t want to leave behind.

It’s noisy, it’s militant, it’s human, and it’s a time capsule for the year you’re already burning an effigy of. Get it while it’s hot.

It could read as overstuffed – and at times, it can feel that way – but the sheer force of performance and skilled production more than carry the album.

The record sounds warm, full and flirty; the snares hit you, the bass bounces and harmonicas and organs are as bright as California stars.

Musically, it’s varied and adventurous; thematically, it sees the world’s present darkness and raises it hope. A vital record.

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

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.

Hug of Thunder ploughs through emotional highs and lows with an empathetic grace, sometimes decorating its more dramatic moments with swells of brass, ditto its out-and-out rock’n’roll cuts; elsewhere they just let everything hang loose on a light robo-funk groove.

Yawny Yawn finds Ryder-Jones parting ways with every instrument that, on Yawn, did more than simply accentuate the trauma, resignation, fondness and care colouring his vocals. For the most part, this is an incredibly rewarding endeavour, as Ryder-Jones' painful words are brought, emotively, to the forefront, though the deceptively similar pace and ambience of a few songs may frustrate those who aren't listening intently.

The More I Sleep follows on nicely from their earlier releases, channelling them in a consciously reflective manner, and harnessing their typical dissonance while also not feeling as frantic in places as its predecessors.

At nine tracks and 27 minutes long, Highway Songs isn't the longest of albums, an element that's perhaps suggestive of the brief period documented by these songs. The best is saved for last, though, as Pajo's true shot at self-redemption makes for a stunning close.

Featuring guest stars such as Joey Santiago, Teri Gender Bender and Anna Waronker, A Walk With Love and Death is like a one-stop shop of everything to love, hate and feel infuriated by about Melvins.

As an album, If Words Were Flowers won’t win Harding any new fans but it is a contemplative, thoughtful exploration of modern love through the prism of traditionalist soul.

Aldous Harding's fifth album doesn't deviate much from her winning formula, but there are small flourishes peppered throughout to keep it feeling fresh.

It’s invigorating and profound, mapping a sonic current which traverses moments of gently unfolding beauty (The Quietest Shore) and even brassy grandiosity (particularly on the widescreen projections of Exquisite Human Microphone).

It’s testament to Clark’s self-assured and enigmatic oeuvre: indeed, she still holds surprises for us yet.

Less cinematic than Luppi’s previous work in scope and style, MILANO is an intimate collection of snapshots about life in a certain place at a certain time. It’s insightful, invigorating, and honest.

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.

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.

Remarkably generous in its open nature, it further cements Jacklin’s place as a future alt-country great.

Despite its brevity Anoyo contains some of the most straightforwardly beautiful music Hecker has made in some time, and makes for a strong companion and continuation to the themes and sonic developments made on Konoyo.

Sunshine in music form, A LA SALA is another stellar addition to Khruangbin’s blissful repertoire.