All told, it’s a finely wrought collection that could appeal to fans of The Decemberists or Vetiver as much as some of those longer-in-the-tooth bands.

Semper Femina continues her decade-long hot streak with another collection of finely wrought vignettes on love, loss, and the empowerment that can be found in both.

L.A. Witch's dreamy, gothic take on garage rock is more about atmosphere than message, but you'll find plenty of devil in their details.

While there are some tracks that feel distinctly like filler, there's more than enough substance on Why Lawd? to justify the price of admission. Let's hope we don't have to wait another eight years for this duo to get together again.

Distinctive and likely divisive, some spots showcase the most original beat-work you'll hear this year.

Still, the beating heart behind The Kid is the curiosity and delight that Smith brings to her meticulous electronic compositions.

The production is pristine, while none of her lo-fi charm has been lost. My Method Actor is a triumph on all counts.

This time it’s only a partial reinvention, but by the time the huge guitars and stereo panning of One More Hour fade away, there’s no doubt that Kevin Parker is a man with his own unique sense of time.

From Appalachian folk song Golden Willow Tree to shape-note tunes like I'm On My Journey Home, Amidon preserves the melodic integrity of his source material while allowing foreign tones and textures to seep in.

It’s perhaps convenient journalistic twaddle to suggest Great Ytene's loss of their initial recordings for this LP means that Locus feels desperate to get out of the traps, but there’s no denying the irresistible energy on show here.

As protest albums go, it’s a strange one, but if this is what the revolution sounds like: sign us up.

Forever Howlong sees Black Country, New Road take their individualistic aura another gallant stride forward. What comes next is anyone’s guess.

It’s the soundtrack to our most outlandish dreams, perhaps the exit music to the unmade film of our most romantic lives. If you're still to discover Radiohead, listen to this, for it's the perfect way in.

Despite the daring newness, Screen Violence still feels unmistakably CHVRCHES, and one of their strongest records at that.

Fall Into the Sun, while bursting with bounce and youthfulness, is a maturation, tweaking the aesthetic that brought them a loyal band of cult followers using a long-developed confidence.

Not quite Hertz’s most dazzling work, but another string to the bow for one of electronic music’s most intriguing artists.

Eno Williams and crew up the ante on all fronts for Uyai; the percussion races forward while the arrangements are busier and more ambitious, each tune twisting and turning through rhythm changes and back-to-back riffs like a living thing.

The heavier tracks are the album's most interesting moments, allowing for singer Nicola Kearey to stomp out her vocals with extreme force.

An album imbued with heartfelt sentiments, both expressed and inexpressible, At the Party with My Brown Friends is at once earnest, rippling with intensity, and a refreshing summer soundtrack. It’s a colossal forward-step for BBES, but one that keeps intact, and sees Paul’s unique artistic vision flourishing.

TILT is definitely missing the cool, camp interjections of Sugar Bones that were more prominent on their debut. Still, Conman has delivered yet another non-stop album that is guaranteed to raise the bar of your next party.

It’s an album that’s at times danceable and at others meditative, but always filled with emotional honesty.

The album is an expertly crafted assault on the fallacy that ignorance is bliss, an eye-opening invitation to see our society for what it really is. Bliss is overrated anyway.

A cathartic release following years of volatility and instability. It feels like the most important record of his career, as he works through his internal and external conflicts to, ultimately, find peace.

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.

It’s these 12 weary waltzes and bright ballads, written gazing upon the sea from the window of his Cellardyke studio, that will find their way into your heart forever.

Like a Russian doll which opens to reveal evermore intimate and foetal musings on communication, self-awareness and comfort, this debut album has, at its core, that which sits on its surface: raw, honest emotion. It wears its heart on its sleeve.

Further instrumentation was added with care afterwards, but the skeleton of each song can still be discerned, pleasingly, like a pencil sketch beneath watercolours.

All the hallmarks of Omni’s debut are present and correct: jaunty, stop/start arrangements, intense guitar melodies, muffled vocals and a propensity for the poppier side of post-punk. It doesn’t quite have anything as immediately appealing as Afterlife here, in fact it’s much more of a grower, but over time Multi-task proves itself to be a triumphant lesson in post-punk authenticity.