At times it feels like a strange fusion of medium and message but it’s a triumph that Catholic Action manage to imbue an increasingly staid format with some revolutionary zeal.

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.

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.

Not a single emotion is spared, as manic meltdowns (Medicine Burn) blend into polished pop (Kerosene!) and moments of melancholy (Romanticist) – all of this depicting a mind running riot.

At its most delicate points, slow climbing chord progressions carry as much emotion as her lyrics, and at its lowest, though sparse, carry them where they feel overly simple.

As usual Flying Lotus produces, with his fingerprints particularly keenly felt on tracks such as Unrequited Love, to assist Bruner with yet another fantastic release.

The Caretaker is not for the fainthearted, nor is it designed to be background music: it demands to keep your full and undivided attention.

Too many of the tracks dissolve into an atmosphere-for-the-sake-of-it sludge, yanking you into consciousness only every once in a while.

Snapshot of a Beginner might be their most focused and uplifting release to date.

New Me, Same Us finds its vigour in the sweet spot between pure pop and the band’s more adventurous tendencies. When an emotionally-charged, jazz-inspired piano climax cuts through the otherwise smooth veneer of New Fiction or when Where You Belong leans fully into a part-funk, part-R'n'B groove, the band really hit their stride. It’s just a shame there are some stumbles on the way.

That’s not to say that Saint Cloud is all moments of quiet self-reflection. Crutchfield’s artful command of heartfelt truths is still present and correct.

Chaos often ensues within oneself following heartbreak, and Maine captures that devastating chaos beautifully on Ricky Music, sometimes too accurately. It’s not always an easy listen, but it’s certainly a very relatable one.

With four years between their debut Rice, Pasta and Other Fillers, Every Bad is similarly anxious and seeking validation, endearing itself desperately to any listener who’s ever felt the same way.

Deap Lips works best when Wayne Coyne and Steven Drozd are in the background, as messy closer There Is Know Right There Is Know Wrong proves, but the fact that they know when to keep themselves there suggests they’ve learned lessons from With a Little Help from My Fwends. An intriguing diversion.

Ultimately, although it’s more immediate than their 2016 record, what you gain from We Are Sent Here By History will be dictated by how much you connect with its musical vision. Sink into its groove though and it’s an album that presents a fascinating societal commentary.

A record that thrives on its biocentric themes, it’s one you won’t want to leave behind.

It's not a record that's overly concerned with coherence, but the freedom to experiment suits Malkmus well, especially when he lets the ideas dictate the music without trying to adhere to any sort of thematic cohesion.

Produced by Remy and recorded live with 20 session musicians, Heavy Light is rich, textured and sonically huge.

Out of My Province finds Reid on magnificent form. ... For all the emotion she conveys and coaxes from the listener, she sounds like she’s been singing these songs all her life. Like all her thrilling and incredibly distinctive inflections come as easy as breathing.

Creative, life-affirming, funny and beautiful, Thumb World gets the thumbs up.

It never feels like an escapist project. It becomes an expression of the bleed between the unconscious and the world around us, through often beautiful, always unsettling music.

Sophie Allison, aka Soccer Mommy, just keeps getting better. Her latest record surpasses any expectations set by 2018’s Clean, which set her apart from the crowd with its effortlessly cool pop energy, razor-sharp riffs and wise takes on adolescent turmoil. With color theory, Allison revives a fiery and rebellious noughties aesthetic, upgraded with enchanting sonic clarity.

It's a beautiful album that requires patience and provokes instrospection, while still retaining the gorgeous discotronics and expertly stitched samples that come with a Caribou release.

While Peggy Sue never quite reached the dizzy heights of Mumford and Sons’ stadium-sized tours, their artfully woven narratives are more than double-tap worthy of it.

Miss Anthropocene is an uneven record, and one that arrives with considerable baggage that threatens to turn it into a punching bag. But Grimes' proven abilities as a producer win out. There are superfluous, overlong passages, especially when the brightness in her music drains away.

Hyacinth sees a strong progression in production values from its predeccesor. While there's a widening of Spinning Coin's scope here, there's still a tendancy to stick to a familiar formula across the album. Thankfully, they do it well.

Look At Us Now Dad is at its best when it treads further into experimental territory. ... Unfortunately, it can be frustrating that this isn’t emphasised more fully or frequently but still gives a glimpse into where Banoffee could ultimately head.

That there’s room for experimentation, too (see the spoken word outro to Graceless Kids, or the spacey closer Used to Be) speaks to her confidence. This is the record she wanted us to think California Nights was.