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.

Singularity it feels like he’s levelled up the melding of two worlds: ambient and techno. Hopkins’ signature deep tissue massage bass is stitched together throughout, with unreal moments of musical beauty making Singularity a simply stunning album of emotional highs and lows.

More notable for its meditative atmosphere than blockbuster tracks, Rebound isn’t the sort of record that will blow anyone away, but that’s never been Friedberger’s MO. When it comes to neatly capturing knotty feelings and subtle changes of mood, she remains one of indie rock’s masters.

Plowing Into the Field of Love was a champagne swilling, country honky-tonk left turn; and now comes Beyondless, a record altogether more iconic sounding, but no less strange. ... Iceage continue to be one of the most exciting bands in music.

This album continually bends and warps, jumps and starts, fully absorbing its antedecents and regurgitating a masterstroke of contemporary electronic music.

Harris says these songs were recorded over a brief but intense period brought to an unexpected stop thanks to a high fever. The album itself is much like that – fleeting, over before you can catch your breath. But, an imprint of something – a distinct mark you’re not quite sure the meaning of--is left behind.

This may be billed as their second album, but for those who haven’t been keeping up, it's a great introduction to an exciting young band fully-formed. With it, they may be joining the hallowed halls of the Sub Pop roster, but they don’t look out of place.

Too often for a 30-minute record do you find ponderous filler (Notes in a Bottle, Now or Never, Properties of Perception), in which even the ever-earnest Murray doesn’t seem to believe the lyrics he’s opining.

Twerp Verse is a polished, sonically inventive record that’s both playful and punchy, but its purpose feels unclear.

The Lookout perhaps does not give up its pleasures as easily as some of her earlier records. There are triumphs here--not least the title track which marches along at a sprightly pace graced by some lovely violin sounds. But there are also songs that worry at their subjects, circling and darting in and out of the light.

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.

Beautiful Thing, though, is more of a straightforward float through space, with a starry, galactic feel to the album.

Too often the feeling remains that the joke isn't funny enough to sustain a whole record, especially one that follows a masterpiece.

It's not perfect (Hugs and Kisses is something of a misfire) but it certainly stands alongside the best of what Rouse has done before.

This music is experimental and diverse in its sonic scope, but each unique sound is in service of its greater whole, making for a record that is undeniably the vision of a singular artist, a true auteur.

Closing track aside, everything else on Loud Patterns is threaded through with intriguing noises and the kind of urgency you can only get from a live band, making for quite a unique sounding dance record which sits comfortably on the shelf alongside the likes of Caribou and Gold Panda.

While there’s a strange sense of timelessness surrounding Moosebumps though, it also takes some time to get into its stride.

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

Bark Your Head Off, Dog is another great Hop Along album, intimate and grand in a way only few can do.

It took three attempts with three different producers before being finished. But it arrives a work of rich, elegant beauty.

This is a smorgasbord of an album: one to be indulged, and one to be savoured.

This festival-friendly record attempts to turn Tom Misch (whether intended or not) from a producer and guitar-player into a pop star. It hasn’t quite paid off.

The Louder I Call, the Faster It Runs revels in keeping you off balance; it impresses, inspires and occasionally overwhelms, but it never outstays its welcome. A fantastic statement from an endlessly evolving band shouting louder than ever.

There are still plenty of the magic, chaotic choruses that set alight their live shows, but in between are touching moments of melancholy, frustration and imagination.

The tunes are massive and buried in strings, synths and stacked harmonies, but the subtlety of the lyrics is lost in tunes like the Gary Numan-esque In Eternity and Broken Algorithms' Appetite for Destruction obsession. It's left to album closer The Left Behind to offer a signpost to where the Manics could go next.

Goat Girl’s London is a murkier, and at times far more unsettling place. Creep exposes a public transport pervert, complete with a 'dirty trouser stain,' atop ominous strings and fierce percussion, while The Man with No Heart or Brain is as scornful as it sounds.

Overall, POST- is a moment-defining record both for Rosenstock but also for wider popular music and culture; it's equal places angry and fun, something we could all do with in 2018.

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.