Even after several listens there's little here to really strike a chord with the long-standing Foos fan. That's not to say it's poor - it's far from that.

The travelling folk shows of Michel Cleis and Die Vögel, healing dancefloors and faiths while handing out daisy chains, head the electronic curiosities helping join the dots of a compilation that poses as much might as it does magic.

This is the sound of a questing spirit pushing at the parameters of unlimited freedom, a hand reaching out to grasp infinity and not falling far short.

Opener ‘Shock Out’ illustrates a playful approach that floats on the periphery of danger while ‘Slay’ sees her really flex her lyricism complete with a wavy flow. As is to be expected, The Bug’s production floats in the oxymoronic universe of heavy and atmospheric that is both haunting and devastating.

‘KOMPROMAT’ is an album that cements I LIKE TRAINS once more not only as a force to be reckoned with but as a band who are able to deliver a delicate critique on society.

The future, past and present is Enter Shikari’s, restructuring the sheer meaning of creativity with another commanding album.

It’s sci-fi, afro, poetry delivered with a snarl. This may not be for everyone, hell, it may only be for the brave, but if you take the ride you’ll be vastly rewarded.

It's All Real continues along the same lines: lush production, low-key bleeps and bloops, a hushed, lovelorn 2am ambience.

The music is engaging, yet thought provoking. It sounds unlike his previous three releases, but there is a continuation of ideas throughout. It’s an album from an artist who doesn’t pander to trends and goes his own path.

Oxymoron is all killer, no filler--and despite some tracks here not quite translating to radio, in the album context nothing feels out of place.

While every track on The Haunted Man is brimming with invention, there's little to keep you coming back for repeat listens.

While some moments may be a little theatrical, the astounding musicianship and production pulls it back, from the thick woodiness of clarinet and raucous cupped trumpet to the unbelievable percussion and strings.

This is a timeless collection of blossoming ballads.

A four-track EP that runs for the best part of 25 minutes and possesses more depth, more intrigue, than most full-lengths running to twice as long.

Wanting more of something is hardly the worst criticism to be leveled at an album. With this long-awaited release, Santigold has once more shown the world she’s one of the game’s most unique, imaginative, and fun creators. It’s good to have her back.

United States Of Horror is wired on a different kind of anger--these tracks seethe with violence and disgust, raging at dark political orders, economic inequality, racial tension and fractured society.

There's no reaching out to new audiences here nor attempts to break ground, just an accessible expression by an artist with the freedom to do just that.

A project as mystifying at it is engaging.

Beach Slang play with the kind of heartfelt abandon that you could imagine translating to wider audiences in a similar vein to The Gaslight Anthem or, going back even further, The Goo Goo Dolls. For now, the no-hopers have a voice, but you get the feeling that it won't be theirs alone for much longer.

While this may not be as perfectly realised as "Black City," it's still a beautiful, complex, weird and bold album.

A fine album that balances its expansive and experimental edge with rich, emotional musicality.

There’s a profusion of standout tracks that invite you into Teyana’s world of emotions, sex and vulnerability. ... This a grown woman ready to continue her reign over R&B.

An album that could be the soundtrack to the most fucked-up cowboy movie yet to be made.

It’s a multi-faceted and mature second album from an artist that a lot of people wrongly assumed could only work in one narrow lane.

A brave and open experience, it stands as one of Gold Panda’s most riveting statements, amplifying his technical virtuosity while also honing in on the glorious melodic jewels that allow his work to linger so strongly in the imagination.

An inspired listen, it stands as a wonderful achievement not only in jazz, but in African-American improvisatory arts more generally.

Khruangbin didn’t need to change much on this album, the sound they produce as a unit is still fresh, exciting and uniquely life-affirming.

Slimmed down to forty minutes split between ten tracks, Apple has the feel of one cohesive whole when compared to 7G’s daunting monolith.

Atlas is full of seemingly effortless, ageless, guitar-driven songcraft.

Martyn manages to strip through countless layers, to absorb numberless ideas without losing sight of his own identity. A fine return.

Between the caustic riffs and searing lyrics there’s some damned beauty in Parquet Courts.

The Liverpudlian foursome have by far exceeded expectations with their new, more defined, crisper record.

By cementing his role as musical heir to the mantle of Serge Gainsbourg (if you ignore the fact that Charlotte Gainsbourg herself is a pretty worthy heir), as well as perhaps the only musical peer of Sleaford Mods, Baxter might just have succeeded in further escaping Ian Dury's long, dark shadow.

A fine piece of work from a criminally-underrated talent.

Hard to ignore, her voice is glorious and rich, and her music intoxicating. ‘I Was Born Swimming’ is an intense journey to take with its creator, but it envelops entirely. You are where she is, you feel as she does.

She exudes the beauty of an artist comfortable in the idea of taking risks, an asset she’d do well to keep hold of as, from what exists on this record, you feel that a classic is just around the corner.

As they create their most on-their-terms album to date, Band of Horses manage to lift a weight from your shoulders you perhaps didn’t know was there.

So It Goes delivers on the promise they exhibited early on, successfully paying homage to NYC’s biggest hip-hop hitters, navigating busy, broken rhythms, and throwing up fresh perspectives with hazy, boom-bap production.

Unapologetic bangers with tongue firmly cheek and a furious, feminist bent, ‘Tilt’ is the album you need in your life.

A hugely accomplished debut album.

Jeez, it’s long, and there are some missteps, some ill-advised detours, along his peregrinations, but all in all, it’s worth coming along for the ride.

The National are closer than ever, the type of closeness that allows individual growth, and this organic coming together is reflected in the collection of songs on ‘Laugh Track.’ Music that will no doubt stand the test of time.

A relationship breakdown between the band's two founders, singer Nona Marie Invie and producer Marshall LaCount, is laid bare, but with dramatic and beautiful consequences.

Overall it's a robust, respectable detour but will leave some fans pining for the smoky chanteuse of old.

This is an album that strips Rae Sremmurd down to their bare essence. Removing any excess, it allows their contradictions to come to the fore, with sometimes fascinating yet always gripping results.

‘Hackney Diamonds’ is probably the Rolling Stones’ best album in two decades. .... Equally, while his status as a lizard-like, hip-shaking frontman of immortal prowess remains intact, Jagger’s lyricism – so often underrated – delivers a few clunkers here. The highs, though, are what fans are tuning in for.

It’s a jarring listen from start to finish, but worth sifting.

If you like your music heavy with feels, story and a tangible sense of nostalgia, this is for you. Oberst and Bridgers have created one of those rare collaborative albums that rank with the best efforts of the respective artists.

A core message for hope in a fragile world (delivered via singers like Moses Sumney and Tawiah) completes this delicate musical tapestry perfectly, resulting in a quietly triumphant comeback from the British masters.

It’s all over the place stylistically, but then no one ever said that feelings had to make sense.

A richly melodic, welcomingly melancholic debut.

‘Bunny’ is an album that rewards listening with a sense of naivety. Basking in its summery sheen is more than enough to draw pleasure from. But if you allow yourself the time to uncover all of its layers of depth, that glow only becomes brighter.

A record composed of experimental dissonance and slick pop bravery, ‘PARANOÏA, ANGELS, TRUE LOVE’ ranks as the boldest aspect of his career to date. A project that searches for honesty, it places Christine and the Queens in a quite singular lane of alt-pop abstraction.

Sacred Paws feel like they have figured out how people listen to music ie. as part of playlists rather than albums, and have set out to write a collection of songs that will fit perfectly into the popular picks in your three minute indie summery vibe playlist, a place where a fair few will nestle in nicely.

Somebody’s Knocking sees the former Screaming Trees frontman continue his foray into electronica, subtly blending ice-cool synths with dirgey guitars and doom-laden imagery to reveal a love of ‘80s English alt-rock. ... Welcome back.

Preaching the same elements on 'Different Scales', this EP shows us what is to come on Jenkins' forthcoming album. If 'The Circus' is just a prelude, then old and new fans alike are up for a special treat.

Its delicacy and sentimentality may strike a cheesy note on first listen, but Post-Tropical is a definite grower.

Total Life Forever is a massive leap forward for the band. The music writhes with a renewed ambition, capable of moving from near ambient strains of electronica to propulsive African funk in a drum break.

Though it’s slow and brooding, Impermanence is bold enough to employ silence as part of the music.

At seventeen tracks it's a purposefully meandering ride, one filled with funky instrumentals and ambient vignettes. While songs such as 'Lately', 'Insecurity' and 'Sex Emoji' show the band has not lost their ability to deliver funky floor-fillers, it's the more subdued material that really shines.

Throughout, Kirk’s hyper-literate brand of songwriting is fully captivating, thanks in part to his propensity for a real zinger.

To hear tracks like ‘Dizzy Dizzy’ or ‘Halleluwah’ hacked down to mere Can-ettes for the humble 7” format feels a little like trying to make sense of a vast painted canvass simply by focusing on, say, the top left corner. Once you get over that, with singles typically being the most accessible or marketable moments in a band’s trajectory, this collection represents a superb introduction to the Can catalogue for anyone lacking the willpower or patience to trawl their albums or the goldmine of material presented on 2012’s essential ‘The Can Tapes.’

Some of Ghetto Madness hasn’t dated well, yet elsewhere it’s upfront and out the gutter stature gives prudes and purists the finger.

Bloated at 16 tracks, it could have been a genuinely strong EP that formed a platform for Dizzee’s return to the sound he helped birth.

With Screen Memories, Maus once again welcomes all that dare enter into his all-consuming, oddball world.

It’s sometimes a little scratchy around the edges, but mostly honest, tender and wonderful.

Sleater-Kinney permit themselves a few self-satisfied experimentations – not everything comes off, such as the slightly wayward ‘Method’, for example. At its peak, however, ‘Path Of Wellness’ is a riot, one that underlines Sleater-Kinney’s hallowed status while providing a continual challenge to the idea of them as a ‘legacy’ artist.

Brilliant – if overdue – debut album. ... Welcome to Alison Goldfrapp’s paradisiacal, tempting, thrilling vision of the sublime.

Rock-hard and sloppy in equal measure, Boy King is a creature of base instinct from a band of high intellect more used to drawing their songs from their frontal lobes than their testes (even if their lyrics often suggest otherwise).

There's a wild-eyed energy that pulsates throughout Nozinja Lodge's 45-minute length and, while this may be an acquired taste, it captures shangaan electro's kaleidoscopic nature perfectly.

A bold, kaleidoscopic funnel of sound, Valet's rich return is worthy of celebration.

Equally fragile and resplendent in its execution, it's the kind of album that stays with you long after its haunting close.

With this new album Wallace proves himself as a complex and multifaceted producer and this makes us even more excited to see what he’ll come out with next.

Out of devastation, Loraine has pieced together an album to cherish.

Overall, 'S&M2' is a worthy successor to its predecessor, but not without its faults. ... From the outset, it’s clear the recording is sharper and punchier than its 20-year-old counterpart, but with a far less forgiving mix. While before the orchestra and band blended into one digestible wall of noise, at times, it sounds like instruments are competing for room this time around.

'Music' is an album that shines its brightest light on Sings himself. Often lending his talents to the work of others - including Rex Orange County’s ‘Loving Is Easy’ and Free Nationals’ ‘Apartment’ - Sings often had to be comfortable on the sidelines. 'Music', however, sees this prolific musician finally move centre stage.

Viagra Boys have a deep well of emotional intelligence hidden underneath their aggressively ignorant façade.

At once a relatively pragmatic re-release of already heard material and the satisfying conclusion to its previous flirtations, Joli Mai is a hybrid: part-album, part DJ-toolbox--and totally playable, in any context.

'Your Hero Is Not Dead' is essential listening for anyone at odds with themselves or the current state of society, which really should be just about everyone at this point.

In forty minutes, the band not only reminds listeners why they became scene heroes but also why they’re one of the UK’s most thrilling exports. For our money, it’s another home-run of a record.

The unconventional twists and turns of My Love Is Cool makes Wolf Alice one of the most exciting new bands around.

‘star-crossed’ demands to be listened to in one go. ... She has calcified a range of difficult, overwhelming, sometimes liberating emotions into a time capsule marking the most turbulent time of her life. This is heart on sleeve storytelling.

At once a joyous, celebratory ode to motherhood, elsewhere finding quiet liberation and acceptance during life’s darkest moments, it’s clear, Meg Remy has delivered her most hopeful album yet.

Always respectful of the traditions from which they emerge, Steve Gunn and the Black Twig Pickers are happy to less these sounds evolve exponentially into stunning, unforeseen vistas. A real gem.

Though they sometimes still miss, Twentytwo In Blue stakes out the loss of innocence that comes with growing up, and it does it beautifully.

This mini album sees Wire once again looking askance at modernity via cryptic cynicism, bassist Graham Lewis's obtuse lyrics reaching new levels of vexatious impenetrability.

FFS manage to combine all the characteristics of what makes each band appealing but the record never veers too close to Franz Ferdinand territory and neither does the supergroup fully embrace the experimental side of Sparks.

Mura Masa’s nuance, confidence and obvious versatility betray his relative inexperience, and it’s increasingly clear that he is already a musical force to be reckoned with.

[A] joyous debut album.

It’s a potentially fulsome harvest E.M.M.A. has planted.

This third LP’s motley magic merits the coveted breakthrough that these Celtic chancers deserve.

The undeniable influence of Krautrock in the drone, dirge and motorik beats interspersed with passages of ambiance make for a deliciously diffused, shimmering, summery psyche salad.

Perhaps lacking the urgency or unity of the label’s first instalment of 10th anniversary comps, Hyperdub 10.2 nevertheless successfully celebrates the diversity of a neglected side of its output.

Out of something very, very old has come something deliciously new.

Riot Boi is a trailblazing record very much in the now. It's bombastic, and transgressive.

If Deenmamode tempers his idiosyncrasies just a little, allowing his music to breathe better, the results can be even more profound.

A band mentality may of allowed the material to work some new ground but as a solo project we’ve a dense collection all sticking to one vision. One to dip into when the storm clouds are approaching.

So long as you can tolerate the musical hopscotch that a Barry Adamson album always represents, Know Where To Run is probably as good an introduction to this peripatetic musician as you're ever likely to need. Just make sure to expect the unexpected.