Though hit and miss, Brighter Wounds is a solid addition to the group’s catalogue.

The Scandinavian chanteuse has returned with more anthemic contenders in the shape of her sophomore album 'How To Let Go'.

A solid return, there’s a lot to recommend here – for those familiar with Slow Pulp’s influences, or otherwise. Engaging songwriting with a real punch, we’re already looking forward to catching them live.

Last Place is an occasionally misty-eyed but very welcome return. A broken but pretty mess.

There will be plenty of people who opt to be snobby about the fact that this record is so commercial, so polished and so brazen, but those people are all, to a man, idiots. If you can't love these songs, you are incapable of experiencing joy itself.

Why Love Now is a brash ballache of an album that will make you hate yourself as much as it makes you hate the world. Rest assured lads, the bar is now slightly higher than it was a week ago.

Shelter is a haven that tugs you out of your comfort zone.

Alexis Taylor’s vocals are always worth experiencing, blessed as he is with one of his generation’s most striking pop instruments, yet ‘Freakout / Release’ doesn’t tug at the heartstrings in the same fashion as ‘Flutes’, say.

Other than final track ‘A Certain Spirit’, the clearest crossover of irked techno and David Byrne-d, samba deconstruction, the melting pot (remember those aforementioned ingredients) that has gestated for five years ends up being served cold as gazpacho.

An apt step forward, Rave Tapes finds its makers matching grace and irreverence, noise and beauty with the don’t-give-a-f*ck bravado of people who can only know better.

This polished set is pure aural candy from front-to-back and firmly re-establishes Jackson as one of Britain’s premier pop talents.

I Love You But I Don't Know What To Say perfectly concludes a haunting album that truly reveals Adams' bruised soul.

If you don't like vocal dance music, if you're going off funky or you don't like a bloke playing live behind a faux-Polynesian tribal mask then avoid. Otherwise SBTRKT will delight the droves of bass fanatics that want something a little more sophisticated.

Azari and III are good clean honest fun, but not the future of music.

Davidson has easily transitioned between dim clubs and big festivals and learned to balance her acerbic ‘existential pop’ with hard-nosed techno. Drawing on the former, ‘Renegade Breakdown’’s appeal is in some ways broader, but she also risks putting off some of the initiated. On the whole, it functions as a reminder of the virtues of going against the grain and not playing it safe.

There’s enough here to make even the most discerning New Rap playlist – but as a body of work it doesn’t land in the effortless fashion that made EARTHGANG such a pivotal pairing.

For all their recent productivity and renaissance, A Certain Ratio are no closer to their zeitgeist moment. But with output as strong as this sitting alongside their back catalogue, they are all the stronger for it.

The Canadian boy-girl duo's debut is a whirl of delicate dream pop.

While not their best work, ‘Ultra Mono’ takes many leaps forward in terms of songwriting and tunecraft, while blowing a few kisses at their detractors. That’ll be mission accomplished.

It’s not an Oasis record and it’s not a wholly experimental album either. However, it is his best work in an age and an interesting marker for a Weller-esque creative purple patch from an artist rediscovering their sense of purpose.

At the end of this journey, we’re left not only with a playlist you’re itching to put on repeat, but also with the a much-needed notion of an inspirational woman made much stronger- much more in love with herself- by the trials and tribulations of her life.

Whilst there is a real danger to being overly nostalgic, this album hits a happy medium.

As his main band disappears into "indefinite hiatus", console yourself with the knowledge that Birgisson has just made the best record of his career.

The approach proves that there’s still relevance to be found in the commercial compilation. This is largely down to the third disc, titled ‘Meditation’, which serves as a compilation of entirely new material that sees Craig shift his focus from dancefloor fodder to some impressive ambient explorations.

‘Mutator’ is not an epitaph or vault-scraping footnote; it is a painful reminder that New York lost one of its important critical voices when Vega passed away in 2016.

Pure pop is an unforgiving master and a slight dip in quality results in the flaccid 'Patient' sounding like a blighted Go West off-cut. Fitfully good.

Restless and fast-paced, 'Kids' nurtures critical reflection without compromising humour and a good time. The songs are energetic and energising, a sonic punch right in your face.

There’s nothing on this release to suggest that Clams Casino has ascended to the next level. In its own right, it’s further evidence of Clams’ special talents but for those who have followed his career closely, it’s hard not to think about what could have been.