Curt's voice sounds beautiful, crisp and clear, resigned to fate, yielding beauty in the midst of cracked flaws. And the band, fleshed out with keyboardist Ron Stabinsky and Curt's son Elmo, work the magic of making all of this sound fresh and new.

Weighty subject matter, then, but Harris’ John Darnielle-esque delivery rams the message home amidst their strongest set of tunes since 2006’s The Body, The Blood, The Machine, with Kathy Foster’s on-point harmonies (Thinking Of You) and propulsive bass (Always Never Be) adding purpose to their power-punk arsenal.

While the interjection of these songs provide sobering reminders of what lies beyond the pleasantries, the party continues over the course of the record's 11 tracks, and an air of euphoria is present throughout.

The record does peter out a little with the closing few songs, and it can’t be said that Mitski has broken significantly new ground. Still, she’s as enchanting as ever.

With his new album Space Heavy, King Krule takes varying flavours from his unique sonic world and brings them together to create his most colourful work to date.

Navarasa: Nine Emotions is a rollercoaster of vibrancy.

They’ve gone from mammoth, side-long pseudo-jams to relatively bite-sized chunks without sacrificing any of the fury they’ve harboured from the beginning.

Wide-eyed in sound and vision, three is the magic number for Sacred Paws. They haven’t just jumped into life... they’ve leaped.

Flowers is another lunch-line scoop of hearty 70s soul revivalism from music's most dependable dispensary. It's just on the underside of too pretty for its own good.

The result is less revelation than stress test – a popstar proof-of-concept. In that, Thirlwall proves herself pop’s newest chameleon: brash, uneven and impossible to ignore.

It’s here to piss off metalheads, push boundaries and showcase that BMTH are certainly not one-dimensional.

Pasar de las Luces is over an hour in length, and while it is immersive and layered enough to justify a long run time, it still feels overlong. Nevertheless, it's a thoughtful and aurally beautiful album.

While it lacks the truly avant-garde attention of her previous record, trip9love…??? still contributes to her tripped-out, sensual surrealism with the intent of an artist willing to unfurl. In a carefully improvised moment of surprise, a definitive auteur of the modern feel decided to waltz into the centre of the dancefloor and yearn through that great release.

Although this album has some appealing pop melodies, any further examination or appreciation removes their surface-level charm. Elevator music isn't bad, it just fills awkward silences.

The title track of Van the Man's 40th (!) studio album, the slow jam is a brilliant blues number based on rolling Rhodes keyboards, fat horns, thin cymbal splashes and a vocal with such clarity, concision and quality that it will stop you in your tracks. Yep, that good. The rest? Well, you've seen this movie before: blues, jazz and soul standards delivered with minimum fuss and maximum quality.

While the project makes more sense if you’ve seen the movie, there’s plenty of warmth and intelligence alongside the tits and willies.

It’s true that psychedelia of this type is often frameless by its very nature. Yet, despite the album’s delights, one wonders how tight Neilson’s eccentric work would be if reined in a little.

An enjoyable if low-key listen that consolidates rather than shakes Stables’ current status.

While there is still plenty to love here, Everything Now feels like Arcade Fire's first non-essential album which is a serious matter given their illustrious back-catalogue.

Big Sigh's strength is in not holding back from confronting darker feelings, and revelling in the raw honesty of experiencing them.

There’s not enough adventure to make this truly feel like Pixies; it lacks the sense that the wheels might come off any minute. Lenchantin, for her part, holds her own, especially on All I Think About Now, but her new colleagues need to rediscover the urgency and ambition that defined their best work if they’re ever going to match it.

ASIWYFA haven’t reinvented the wheel with this album, but it’s a worthy addition to an increasingly accomplished body of work.

The palette can feel restrictive, and the lyrical matter predictable. It’s a stepping stone, a moment of reconciliation and recollection from a talent who is just about to surge ahead.

While still evoking a sense of auditory adventure on tracks such as The Deku Tree or instrumental interlude Off World Colony, this more sedate middle section can feel slightly too mid-tempo. Despite this, the duo's sonic voyages make it worthwhile to sink into Bamboo’s realm.

Act One: Music For Inanimate Objects is certainly a good album, but sometimes it feels like the only thing linking all the songs together is their slower tempo.

The result is less a stylistic refresh than a confident reaffirmation of their combined output up until now.

At 20 tracks long, however, it takes some serious listening to get through the whole thing, and a sense of sag in the latter third threatens to overpower on the first few spins. Essentially, this flower could've used a little more judicious pruning.

While Deliverance does have instances of real bracing power, it equally finds itself faltering in its most exposed moments where it really needs to connect.