This is more Ben Frost than Burzum, more interstellar overdrive than terrestrial church torching. And it’s just a bit brilliant, basically.

Bolt on an undeniably zealous execution, a set of simple yet well-written songs, add an element of confident adventure via some experimentation and diversity and the rebirth of indie may just have found its leading protagonists.

Molly Burch’s debut saw her emerge as one of the finest songwriters around, and the follow up only cements that.

A strange brew of instrumentals both delightfully becalming and playfully boisterous.

An album pieced together by a band in mourning, with the sweet sadness of O'Riordan‘s voice layered over, makes it cruder, rawer yet ultimately more truthful and hard-hitting, evoking the charged vulnerability of their very first releases.

A project that outstrips most of his peers, ‘Intruder’ offers a stark and impassioned vision of our society – one that could well rank as his most complete project to date.

HWTD has dug himself a neat, little songbird alcove and it's one only he can reach.

It’s a ridiculous, and ridiculously enjoyable, treat, a sign that rock and dance don’t have to be at odds with one another. Taken as a whole, ‘Typhoons’ is a daring evolutionary gesture, one that finds Royal Blood claiming fresh ground for the future.

Uncompromising and unconventional, ‘Glasgow Eyes’ sit comfortably in The Jesus and Mary Chain canon.

Much like the show itself this is a wonderfully crafted set (check out the deluxe ‘condiment’ vinyl), which is at times both smart, sweet and very, very, stupid.

It is the blistering irresistibility of what is achieved at that point, which makes this record striking and inescapable.

A distinctive, nigh-on unique listen, ‘Isn’t It Now?’ is a fine experimental broth for Autumn listens.

This time, the concept of political awareness reigns supreme, accompanied by some funkadelicious licks from The Roots' guitarist Capt. Kirk.

t’s open season on genres here. There’s the puerile punk of ‘Hollywood’ (“makes me wanna puke”), and the misguided balladry of ‘What’s With You Lately’. But they’re the only real bum notes. This experimental streak finds better pay off on ‘Hymn (Remix)’, crammed with juddering synths, and the delicious 80s pop of ‘Can’t Cool Me Down’. Sometimes, they veer almost to the middle of the road, radio-friendly hit ‘Martin’, warmed up with muted brass and intricate looping.

The Blue Hour is unlikely to win Suede many new followers, but it should convince any fans of old that their vitality is restored and they are at the peak of their powers once more.

Though her personal tragedy has been transformed into an affecting record of real beauty, one truly hopes Li’s next chapter isn’t quite so agonising.

The only shortcoming is that Machinedrum lacks a definitive singular angle, making him amongst the frontrunners of dubstep/juke interpretation, but not quite ahead of the pack.

Food is a fabulous and immediate record, rich with muted brass and low-key electronics.

This is a strong record that's all the more powerful for being so wonderfully, majestically disjointed.

‘The Don Of Diamond Dreams’ is a glorious album that yields more and more with each listen. And listen you need to, because if you don’t you might miss something.

Overall, it's a glittering, multi-sensory synth-pop record that compels you to let yourself be transported through cosmic dimensions and the rich, textured under-layers of Beck’s creative psyche.

It’s an ambitious and sprawling work that tackles some big topics, but it’s not fit to hold a candle to the likes of ‘Lemonade’, ‘Blonde’ and ‘A Seat At The Table’, all of which have furthered the cause of confessional R&B this year, and have done so while being resolutely down-tempo.

Highlights ‘Voice’ and ‘Sonic 8’ will be a surefire test for any club or festival sound system to really prove its worth, and the cold, menacing techno of ‘Release’ sounds a bit like the insides of a power station working really hard to keep a city warm. That said, if you don’t have the huge rig needed to do these tunes justice, and with the days outside just getting warmer, it might be a tough sell to sit at home and curl up with ‘LP. 8’.

More in keeping with the spirit of indie rock iconoclasts bar italia, say, than Autechre, it nonetheless feels wholly deserving of its place in the Warp Records catalogue – questing, free, and dissonant, it’s the work of a group who remain steadfast in their ability to challenge themselves.

Best listened to with the context of Part 1, the way Part 2 rounds the 'Everything Not Saved Will Be Lost' era off makes for the argument that this is Foals' most accomplished body of work to date.

The album does lose momentum towards the end but hey, here we have a relatively new band experimenting with the boundaries of their proposed genre, with generally impressive results.

This is a debut with lots to love, abundant in experimentation and overall pop accessibility--and not many comparable collections can claim those qualities.

Sure, it’s not as good as ‘Turn On The Bright Lights’, but c’mon, it was never going to be. But as an exercise in getting back to where you once belonged, El Pintor is highly successful.