Everything here has been given room to expand, songs drifting from dreamy ascension to full-blown rock revelation and back again. An album of immense power and conviction.

A far way away from debut ‘Chaleur humaine’, yet just as unafraid, ’PARANOÏA, ANGELS, TRUE LOVE’ is like no other exploration of grief - a new magnum opus.

The band remain successful at finding lush nuances in their well-established formula and ‘Formal Growth in the Desert’ packs more hooks than any of their albums since 2015’s ‘The Agent Intellect’.

Each track conjures up dusty Nashville bars, from the spoken word sandwiched between a lament to love on album closer ‘Chain Of Tears’ to a knowing play on country cliches on Jenny’s exploration of happiness in her forties, ‘Puppy and a Truck’.

As a whole, this ambitious project can be an oblique listen but Acaster’s enthusiastic delight in experimental, underground music is on full display.

Like a hangover, ‘Roach’ lulls around in this contemplation in the dusky corners of a rough Sunday morning, yet it remains laced with a little intoxication: experimental production hides behind its corners, making ‘Roach’ a little more interesting. And elsewhere there exists moments where sunlight cracks through the drawn curtains.

Across its 11 tracks, ‘Raving Ghost’ finds impressive variety and fun: less a haunted relic of the past, and more a Halloweeny romp through it.

‘The Love Invention’ runs the gamut of immediate, dancefloor-ready electro-pop with style.

‘i’ve seen a way’ sees the band marching down their own path, and it’s one worth following.

The result is a fun collection of melodically versatile songs which celebrate the power that can be found in dwelling on the fringes.

Homely and familiar in its sound for the most part, ‘My Mind Wanders…’ is a smooth ride of buttery emotional grandiosity and infectious London pop that sits somewhere between Paloma, Adele and Jess Glynne, with enough attitude and bravery to modernise these prevailing and reliable British tropes within soul-pop.

‘Aperture’ stays true to its title, Hannah adjusting her lens with ease and darting nimbly between styles. The album bridges the gap between adolescence and adulthood; Hannah Jadagu jumps high between the two and lands firmly on her feet.

Arlo emerges with a newfound directness, finding a sound and voice that fully represents the multifaceted complexities of the world outside the bedroom.

There is a genuine timelessness to the thirteen tracks of ‘Everything Harmony.

Westerman may be less accessible than either artist, but his latest is just as notable in its ambition. ‘An Inbuilt Fault’ is an acquired taste, but well worth the effort.

There’s a warm domesticity to many of these tracks that’s smaller and softer than the apocalyptic balladry that first made his name; these are vignettes plucked from a Richard Curtis movie - romantic and relatable, with all the humorous foibles left in.

A little change of pace and a tad more sonic variety admittedly wouldn’t have gone amiss, but nevertheless, ‘…Frankenstein’ is a solid addition to The National’s canon.

Confidence and swagger flows through the album as a whole, with every twist and turn adding another colour to its extraordinary palette. The sound of an artist hitting their stride and then some, ‘That! Feels Good’ really does live up to its name.

The first five tracks all clock in at under 2-and-a-half minutes and are almost all punchy, ferocious and crunchy. It’s bold and uncompromising, but often buries the singer-songwriter’s voice both literally and metaphorically in an overbearing soundscape. ... The record’s second half sees Indigo let loose, switching up her formula: songs are longer, more expansive, and it’s all the better for it.

There’s a perfectly fine indie-rock record here, if only it were a little less obfuscated by an aim it doesn’t quite achieve.

Ben Gregory has made a record quite mind-boggling in its scope and scale. Written following a stint in a psychiatric hospital, the explosion of ideas present across these eight tracks tally with an overactive brain trying to put itself back together - in the space of the seven-minute ‘deathbed hangover’ alone, moments of beauty and brutality jostle for space.

Perhaps a less confident artist would be tempted to finish on a grand crescendo, but Angel Olsen has made a masterful record that both requires and earns a little patience.

A poignant, thought-provoking record on so many levels.

Throughout the record, Fenne provides a poignant glimpse into the uncertainty surrounding your whole life changing in front of you.

This stylistic clusterfuck is likely to satisfy those who gobbled up Crack Cloud’s similarly ambitious shift to expansive instrumentation. And if you’re just downright confused by the whole preposterous thing, that’s probably just fine too.

‘Drop Cherries’ may be a soothing depiction of a relationship’s simple moments, but this simplicity does leave the listener wanting more, and its poignancy often lacks any punch.

While some of the stylistic variation here can feel disjointed at times, there’s plenty on offer to suggest a band on the rise, capable of rising even higher.

In its refusal to sound anything like its alt-pop predecessors, ‘With A Hammer’ is a breath of fresh air: innovative yet familiar, lackadaisically cool yet brave, a brilliant and sparkling window into the future. Its idiosyncrasies, consistently and wonderfully oxymoronic, are its greatest strength.