He knows great stories can be found in even the smallest moment, and that is something worth cherishing.

There's more to digest, and WALLS' personality becomes more evident.

It's coarse, awkward and at times lacks air; but the stubborn nature of Splazsh's development leaves you parched for more.

Talk About Body is a long, long way from the oblique post-shoegaze blur of chillwave, witch house, ill-bient and experimental dubstep at the cutting edge of the alternative.

There's still only one Stevie Nicks – witchy, mystical and romantic.

It's the achievement of their fourth studio album that this giddy mix hangs together as an endearing whole.

Although the parallels with Bonobo's peers are obvious, his fourth album doesn't just sit in their shadows. Rather, it's an inspiring example of how, free of pressure and publicity, he has blossomed into something beautiful at his own pace.

Transit Transit is full of the sort of implausible leaps of imagination that normally only happen in your sleep.

Good Things is sufficiently accomplished, in fact, to at least temporarily banish the clouds of financial doom and gloom to the horizon.

Albarn has done his research but this is no dry slice of worthy academia; the way the spirit of each style interlocks is brilliant, and he continues to pull memorable melodies out of his (Elizabethan) hat.

The ideal album to soundtrack wistful contemplation on balmy summer days.

Although fourth album Mines, released three years after its predecessor, retains Menomena's trademark virtuosity in production, here the band's complex, monolithic sonic structures are supported by a consistent emotional foundation that elevates the songs to new heights.

This is primarily a celebratory set of greatest hits to appeal to casual and obsessive fans alike.

Wray and Walker’s transatlantic pairing is beautifully natural.

The results are expectedly analogue of warmth (exceptions: the 8-bit insistence of No Distance's bleeps; the crackle-and-squelch of Unknown Host), but just as enveloping as the best today's modulator manipulators can produce.

It's when the outfit really attack their instruments, however, that sparks start to fly from the Wild Flag sound.

The resulting album is an intriguing mixture of the ancient and contemporary, with every track sounding different: electronica mixes with traditional African styles, reggae with funk and more.

Much has been made--often unfairly--of Gray's awkwardness and lack of convention. But after several stabs at clumsy conformity, it finally feels like it's something she's embracing, and that's massively evident here.

The rest of us will succumb happily to Grinderman's sick skill and wonder why rebel teens don't make dangerous, dastardly rock'n'roll like this anymore.

Seven albums in, Jimmy Eat World are still going strong, and Invented is an enjoyable record. But it also fails to dispel the concern that the band's well of ideas is about to run dry.

Replete with moments of jubilance and tranquillity, cataclysm and contemplation, it feels like the successful culmination of everything the band have been aiming towards over their career to date.

Free Time improves when the band tones down the simpers and demonstrate the lessons of 30-odd years of playing as a touring punk band.

This album's a string-driven thing swinging between bravado and bleakness, and always beautiful.

He sings with such soulful conviction, fitting the wizened candour of these strong, memorable songs like a battered leather glove.

Streamlining has done them good, as has ignoring the need to be as brainy as possible, with classy and effortless-sounding results.

The result, invariably, is that they hold the attention like a movie that keeps tantalising you with strands of plot then flashing back and switching the viewpoint. Some may find it irritating, but many more, you suspect, intoxicating.

The outcome is impressive, and throughout he remains true to himself and his esoteric style.

Reinventing a genre they're not, but Nedry are certainly evolving trip hop in an enticing fashion.