This is an album swimming with inventiveness, quality and variety: it’s good to have her back.

Nostalgic, dramatic and not exactly short on synth, Iteration is the kind of album necessary to help us battle through the rest of 2017.

It’s an album of shattered dreams and primary colours--“Where’s your sense of humour?” decries Blunderland--and more than once it isn’t obvious if the band are laughing with us or (in the nicest possible way) at us.

All in, it’s a diverse, bravura undertaking that sees Hubby not only moving on, but upwards as well.

Heavy Meta is most likeable when he directs those high standards inwards. ... More often though, Gallo is on the offensive, and his technically commensurate and frequently enjoyable garage rock gets entangled in a scornfulness that becomes a little uncomfortable.

You Had Me makes for a luxurious if over-rich listen.

Unpeeled’s problem is that it is too long at 21 tracks, and the band’s new sound only really works on some of their material. Their older work simply doesn’t benefit in the same way.

There are moments where things becomes a little sluggish, though perhaps a stumble here and there can be expected when an album tries to fit so much into a short space. For the most part though, The New Monday is a valiant attempt at distilling Detroit’s musical culture into a single, cohesive record.

You Might Be Smiling Now... is lyrically smart, funny, and terrifyingly relatable.

With a tracklist as tight as Tape Recorder, moments of indulgence are hard to stomach. When a song comes together, though, Lionlimb give their inspirations a run for their money.

At times, however, Violence is uninspiring; it lacks consistency on the whole, but their ferocious new direction results in Editors sounding the best they have in years. And when they get it right, such as on lead single Magazine, they're up there with the best.

Great moments in great songs ('I love you, there, I said it') still seem to be deep enough waters for EELS to swim.

Nothing is broken with their sound, but the album feels like an extension of their previous work rather than a progression of it.

A Better Life is total fire from the get-go, offering great melody and pop lifts that you’ll be singing for days. Buck-wild and vicious songwriting, not for the light-hearted.

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.

A grab-bag of experiments, as the now-trio try on a variety of stylistic hats while they figure out what the future of WWPJ sounds like.

The problem is that beyond the singles which dominate True Entertainment’s Side A, the band seem at a bit of a loss as to what to do with their newfound dancefloor credentials. The second half of the record rests on an at-times plodding and repetitive rhythm section, without enough excitement in the melody to buoy it up.

Despite a relatively concise tracklist of ten songs, at points the 45-minute runtime seems to drag on, giving the album a sense of heaviness. Not dissimilar ambient sounds wash into one another – overall perhaps a more pared-down curation could better highlight the album’s strengths.

Goodnight, God Bless, I Love U, Delete. is overlong and perhaps too diffuse for its own good, but to hear Moreno wholeheartedly indulge his melodic instincts makes the whole exercise a worthwhile one.

Nothing here feels inauthentic.

There is an attractive simplicity to this record, perhaps the band’s most straightforward since their debut. These are catchy feelings-forward songs with football chant-worthy choruses. It is, quite simply, an album full of singles.

Downey has captured something that you’d perhaps have to call 'Caledoniana' – Scottish country with a pure heart.

There isn’t much depth to the lyrics. This album is about feel. ... For once this is a Ladytron album to listen to in the sunshine.

There's a lot happening in just six songs, with too many jarring ideas to fit on a cohesive album, but as a grab-bag of ideas it's an interesting and enjoyable listen.

Resigning itself to well-trodden paths, Venus seems curiously content charting no new territory.

What is surprising is how this darker direction unearths a hitherto unearthed pop sensibility in Moon Duo with songs like White Rose and Will of the Devil recalling the gothic melodies of Siouxsie and the Banshees or The Cure at their gloomy best while Creepin’ skips along like something off The Strokes’ first album.

More often than not, United Crushers settles into a groove and gets comfy.

Hiperasia might be a less accessible album, but it’s Díaz-Reixa at his most experimental and inventive.