Ultimately, >>> is yet another excellent record from Barrow and co, one which will surely delight for quite some time post-release.

Unfortunately, for all but the hardcore, Free seems to baffle as much as it bewitches.

The record oscillates between earthly comforts (In the Hallway / Keeper of the Garden) and galactical ponderings (Map to the Stars), but Mannequin--a charming, disquieting simile for a claustrophobic relationship--best shows off Mondanile's ambition to step out on his own terms.

Rebecca Lucy Taylor's third album as Self Esteem sharpens what’s always been at the core of her musical identity: the tension between frank vulnerability and pop maximalism.

The most successful of these joint efforts is Outgrown which was co-written by Bonobo; elsewhere, partnerships with the likes of Lil Silva and Tracey Thorn cast a pop overtone--a characteristic of FitzGerald's past productions, but here it feels overly saccharine. Ultimately, All That Must Be’s best moments are also its least contrived.

Good Nature plods along at a pleasant pace, but there's nothing here you won't have heard elsewhere before.

Always Ascending thrives when the band indulge their sense of fun--it's not the best work Franz Ferdinand have ever produced, but it's proof that they should embrace their intelligence and their quirks more and not try to be a standard indie band. They’re too good for that.

There’s very little room for light and shade amongst their wall of cavernous synths, and while this can generate an evocative mood (the bursts of percussion and gloomy electronics of pink lightning does give the impression of thunderstorms) it can sometimes feel like James and Roddick are happy to operate within their comfort zone. Nevertheless, fans of Purity Ring fans will undoubtedly find WOMB to be a welcome return.

A few later tracks don’t quite land the punches that others do. Still, the band's maturity is audible for all ears, as Pale Waves continue to carve their own path and embrace their best fiery and forthright version of themselves.

As a mood piece, It's Immaterial works. As a showcase of the talents of Stewart's broad field of collaborators, less so--there's a homogeny to the album's sound that is by turns impressive and suffocating.

With Stunning Luxury, Snapped Ankles have achieved that rarest feat, a stridently political album that loses neither its sense of humour nor its capacity for bangers.

Repeat visits are sure to unearth more of the band’s thought process, but there's a lingering sense that less could've been so much more.

For the most part we're in familiar territory: the sounds are familiar, the production is crisp and the songs are full of the colour of widescreen Americana.

The album doesn’t make for a grand departure from Let’s Eat Grandma’s sound, though fans of the band will have no problem hearing about what Hollingworth got up to on her holiday.

Compassion’s best moments share this kineticism: the chirpy cowbell entry in Sudden Ambition; Tokyo’s driving bass. When the pace slows however, the group’s very affected 80s-evoking style becomes a bit overbearing, so committed to its trendy celestial shtick that it runs the risk of rebounding past retro-chic back into tacky territory again.

Blunt colloquialisms can detract from philosophical musings, and sunny chords sometimes overshadow introspective lyrics.

Working with a number of producers, he's created another collection of songs that speak directly to an intense and emotional connection with someone, and all the good, bad and sexy that come along with that.

Blossom's debut record isn't short on marketable material, but its impact could certainly have been enhanced by a more ruthless pruning.

This is a band on a journey. Modern English Decoration nods to its predecessor, certainly, but you can hear the way in which the original duo has consolidated their appeal as a five-piece. These guys have got promise written all over them.

Vive la Void can be intriguing and enveloping if given the time and space to truly immerse yourself in it, but otherwise might leave only a fleeting impression.

After an hour it can be a lot to take in. But for all the soft pads and skittering percussion, the cinematic flourishes that are begging to soundtrack a near-future dystopia (he's already done Black Mirror), there are still enough unique and surprising touches to justify the long runtime.

Mystical and psychedelic, with a real knack for texture and detail in the midst of a big, blown-out prog adventure, this is an album best served whole.

Beautiful People Will Ruin Your Life is the sound of a band maturing and evolving, having come a long way from their first meeting in Liverpool. Now that they're 15 years and four albums in they know what works, and still have an ear for a catchy melody.

Unfortunately, Olly Alexander’s first solo outing as Years & Years doesn’t quite hit the mark, but even though they may be few and far between, there are still some glimmers of potential on Night Call.

While this is an exciting new style for the band, the album could have benefited from more of the stripped-back moments that we hear in the likes of America. In the opening and closing songs of the album, we’re reminded why Courting are such a captivating band but New Last Name, while fun and energetic, sadly fails to match the impact and charm of their debut.

There will be much to admire for Fontaines fans, but anyone with a penchant for the poppier end of The Cure’s catalogue will also find plenty to love.

Exploring retro music as inspiration can sometimes anchor acts to a sound, but in addition to the overarching transformation into this suave stranger, this artist’s ability to reinvent the album’s genre – hip-hop, R’n’B, synthpop – with each track makes Christine and the Queens' debut as Redcar transformative and enticing.

Grapefruit is both excruciating and luxurious in its patchiness.