Subversive, non-conformist and melodious, this record has the credentials of a classic rock and roll album. The decision to take a radical approach only works for the few, the possession of ammunition that’s needed to master such a challenge is not for anyone. Fontaines D.C. have it.

On her third album, the view has swung from microcosm to breathtaking panorama.

If this is Spiritualized’s last – and Pierce hasn’t fully rowed-back on that threat, given his lucubrations drove him “crazy”--it’s a very satisfying denouement. If not, it’s still a stellar addition to the Spiritualized® catalogue, matching the vitality of ‘Songs in A&E’ or the richness of ‘that famous one from 1997’, even if it doesn’t say anything especially new.

Arab Strap are back with a vengeance. And it’s fucking glorious.

This record comes on like the voice of a friend, confessional and familiar-- full of small, important reassurances.

The lack of pristine sound quality also gives the songs something they might have otherwise lost. They, and Neil Young himself, sound more vulnerable. I’ve never heard ‘Ambulance Blues’ sound so urgent. Which, considering some of the other songs, is very impressive.

It’s a collection that proves Moby’s a gifted, mature songwriter.

Ryley Walker’s approach strips back well-worn truths, to reveal something startling underneath.

Previously it felt like as though these two sides have been difficult to reconcile on record; the abrasive would often be at odds with the tranquil, particularly on last studio album ‘Cherry Bomb’. On Flower Boy, though, Tyler has perfected his marriage of the two.

There’s nothing nostalgic here--it’s the sound of a band reborn, rather than one reformed. And yes, it’s well worth the wait.

An awesomely designed underground rising.

There is never any doubt in her authorial voice and ability to commandingly tell her own story, with all the tragedies and triumphs contained therein.

This is a career high from an artist about to reach his creative zenith.

Tense, manic strings chop away at the languid celebration, presaging a gathering storm of noise that reaches its peak only to be plunged abruptly into silence. No neat resolutions here, folks. Onwards.

A synth heavy, angst ridden, paranoia-fuelled musical monolith filled with catchy hooks, heavy drums and nods of the cap towards Dubstep.

A rich, fascinating, and perplexing album, The Curious Hand continually deals out new and unexpected elements, stretching Seamus’ until it breaks into the spirit of fanciful experimentation.

Eton Alive captures the self-proclaimed “Best Band in the World” as wide-awake as ever, dolloping fun all over their music like it’s Daddies Brown Sauce.

Breathless and perplexed with ears ringing, the live trip of ‘Rare, Forever’ will be a must witness.

‘Fever Dreams’ is very possibly Villagers’ most ambitious and endearing record to date.

An uplifting album with a distant and ever present sadness culminates on a high note, and then right before you know it, you’ll start it all over again.

Suffused with an indefinable sense of melancholy, the likes of ‘I Can Change’, ‘Home’ and ‘Dance Yrself Clean’ instil the rubbery electro with a tangible soul - whilst ‘Drunk Girls’ delivers a giddy hit of bony post-punk.

Though undoubtedly a beautiful set of tracks, Once Twice Melody suffers from its length – almost eighty-five minutes is hefty for a listen in one sitting – and the occasional clashes in instrumentation and vocals, with sequenced drums and synthesisers taking away from the warmth of Legrand’s voice.

Unpredictable it may be. Biffy Clyro it definitely is, and its uplifting and optimism hook the perfect catharsis for a year that’s been nothing short of terrible.

Where once the band may have occasionally caught your ear, these songs command attention throughout.

Wistful and wise, ‘Twin Heavy’ offers a portrait of the young man as a record collector. With his magpie-like eye for treasure and eagerness to share, Willie J Healey has conjured something special.

Sleigh Bells' novelty though, lies in a tingling barrage of granular guitar distortion and overdriven, over-compressed girl-pop squall.

Essentially, it’s rock’n’roll at full pelt; Bob Mould doing what Bob Mould has always done best.

Wonderfully engaging from the first line of opener ‘Our Girl’, this cracking debut mirrors the nuanced nature of modern life with equal parts noise and softness.