These little monographs are masterpieces in their own right--they are thought-provoking and cleverly composed. Consider this a guided listen that continues on the brilliant path of its predecessors.

WOOF. is an intense joy, and absolute in establishing Fat Dog. It can, however, hit the same notes throughout.

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.

A dazzling record that finds the trio slightly more optimistic, slightly more resolute, but defiantly themselves.

Suffocating, stressful, and challenging, Splendor & Misery is uncompromising in its desolation, and it’s all the better for it.

To be sure, it's a crazed, nihilistic rollercoaster and like all rollercoaster rides it has its ups and downs, its moments of exhilaration and its dizzying plunges into horror.

With Dirt interlude pt. 1 and pt. 2, Rodgers structures the record to complement her narrative--leaving us with these three acts against misogyny, and again evidence of the sheer intricacies of talent that dance through the record.

Hozier’s far-reaching vocal range is on full display on Unreal Unearth – as an artist, he possesses that enviable fearlessness when it comes to being earnest. At times, the gospel overtones in the album reach cinematic scope. In places, this orchestral breadth comes off as over-produced, in a departure from the intimate honesty we've come to expect of Hozier.

Statik is muted to the point of silence. It’s hard to truly warm to a record that, while often morosely pretty, feels like it struggles to say much beyond a defeated sigh.

Teenaged at heart, but adult in mind and execution, Smitten combines sounds, moods and eras to present arguably Pale Waves' most complete album.

He shares the ennui, dissociation, irony and unfulfillment of his particular celebrity destiny, coupled with a biting and original take on a more widely shared quotidian anxiety that listeners will note with nods and laughs and hums of recognition. But a hit or two would have been nice.

In all, Bunny is as varied, strange and untethered as you might expect. There are moments of singular genius that can only come from a committed tinkerer like Dear, but also forgettable experiments that sometimes get lost in the whirlpool of creativity that this album stirs up.

Is merits (pep, sass, tunes) come to the boil in the ludicrously catchy I Hate The Weekend, but Lost Time is such an enjoyable half-hour you’ll barely worry about favourites.

Ruminations isn’t going to blow anyone away--it’s in the title--but it is a quiet addition to his substantial body of work and this thoughtful set of acoustic songs will certainly keep us warm as winter sets in.

This early run of songs is perfectly enjoyable and the lyrics play superbly with country clichés, but rarely does it reach towards the quality we know the band to be capable. That is until lead single Gentleman turns up and gives the album the kick it needs.

Ultimately, though, Close It Quietly doesn’t sound particularly exciting or new, but it certainly succeeds at its intentions – it’s a triumphant album for people that find catharsis in indie pop’s niceness.

Dulcet and sensitive, high on love and open to change, Nao expresses it all in vulnerable communion on Jupiter: the collapse, the calm, and the ascension.

The band knock it out of the park with a magical cover of Unable by the elusive, long-defunct Suburban Lawns which makes a convincing case for their new sound. Much like their expeditious songwriting style, Snõõper are always moving forward at breakneck speed, unafraid to broaden their wacky musical horizons.

Whilst it's good Buffalo Tom are still around, and while there are enough moments that recall the highs of their vintage years, there is also a corresponding sense in which we and they have all gotten a little bit older and perhaps, just perhaps, they're not quite what they once were.

Thankfully for them, Thrice Woven returns the band to their original glory. This is, simply put, a beautifully composed black metal record that stands up with all the greats.

The record is an interesting proposition, and one that, while never quite hitting the nail on the head of what it could be, still offers glimpses of what both artists are capable of.

There's a point during Transuranic Heavy Elements where the bludgeoning beats pause and something (Guitars? You? The earth?) begins to howl, and you think: This is probably not for everyone.

It’s confidently compressed, and where this kind of urban dance music can serve as a vehicle for ego, Rodrigues' deft arrangements and choice guests speak for him--and speak volumes.

Gnod continue to take no prisoners; play loud.

It’s an introspective record and, although there are flashes of the melodic indie-pop Mull Historical Society are known for, it’s overall more laid-back.

Cheerfully melodic, you’d be forgiven for not noticing the dark biblical story it retells – of assault, abandonment, fear and faith. These themes persist across this sparse diaristic record, coming to the fore on the grungy, vulnerable Don’t Kiss Me. Surprises, too, sees Zeitsch reckon with how mundanely a life can be altered.

Overall, and despite a brief lull, Babes Never Die is enjoyable from beginning to end. Peppered with catchy choruses and heroic riffs, and with sing-along moments galore, it's much fuller, better rounded and more complete than 2014's Honeyblood.

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.