As you’d expect, there are bleeps and bloops aplenty, but underneath it all is a sexy, if slightly bizarre, groove.

ENSWBL, Part 2 picks up the baton of its predecessor and sends it surging to the finish line, leaving Foals legions ahead of their competitors.

It’s all hips, handclaps and riffs, lots and lots of riffs. It isn’t perfect, but you’d be hard pressed to find a record as fun as Devour You.

It’s a strange, industrial trip that’s full of experimentation. Kim’s signature vocal style - a kind of husky, gasping whisper - is as recognisable as ever, though. And like with the best moments of her career, here she is uncompromising in her artistic vision.

A restrained pace imbues the album with a feeling of deep sedation. It’s a blissful listen from start to finish.

Doubling as perhaps his most creative and experimental sound so far – swapping the more organic instrumentation of previous records for warm, electronic soundscapes - it stands an album which feels distinctly profound in both its lyrics and musicianship.

With their sixth studio album they bolster an already impressive catalogue with intricate explorations of the self in an ever-shifting world, accepting the inevitability of change and offering the solace of a shared community to an always-growing fan base.

At times, you yearn for a little more grit among all the blissed-out euphoria, but ultimately the hooks are big enough to sink in and take hold.

Beneath the slightly grating kookiness, FEET's songwriting is genuinely exciting.

Deceiver is his first truly clear-eyed artistic statement - it’s also his most mature.

In a world of diminishing attention spans, he keeps it moving - most tracks don’t linger longer than 3 minutes, giving the whole thing an inherently vital quality, a record you can let wash over you just as well as getting the party lit.

Hey, I’m Just Like You is a record underpinned by raw emotion, melancholy, and a quiet but clear sense of hope, making for one of the group’s most vital efforts yet.

Hot Motion’s only pitfall comes from frankly how safe it feels. Sure, it’s bigger and brighter than anything Temples have done before, but its whole aesthetic is still nestled deep in their sepia-tinted comfort zone. ... Nevertheless, it’s a solid statement that Temples are alive and kicking, drawing fresh inspo from the past without fading into it themselves.

It’s testament to their skill and commitment that it all hangs together so well. What could brush off as mere novelty instead thrives as an almost unique ability to mix anything and everything within arms reach. By being almost completely unrestrained and unmoderated ‘The Talkies’ can exist in its rawest and most vital form.

What makes ‘A Picture of Good Health’ so vital is the unshakable sense that the gestation of LIFE’s firebrand formula has run parallel to the country’s political spiral. Now, they’re hitting their stride just as the Brexit void looms. Accordingly, this record is indispensable.

The guitars are still awash in reverb, the percussion remains propulsive, and the deceptively complex vocal harmonisation is the axis around which everything else revolves. What’s new is a feeling of genuine exhilaration - on the freewheeling standout ‘Something to Do’, the infuriatingly catchy ‘I’m Far Away’, and on the gentle breeze of ‘At It Again’ especially. ‘Memory’, is music for the love of it, and unabashedly so.

Sure, single ‘Shockwave’ and ‘Be Still’ plod slightly, but Liam’s second is a whole lot more sentimental. ... Elsewhere, love song ‘Halo’ jams like the ‘Stones’ ‘Let’s Spend The Night Together’, the title track hints at later Weller, and - of course - there’s an unmistakeable Beatles-esque guitar solo on ‘Meadow’. All of which are references welcome to anyone who’s stuck around for Liam’s new stuff.

It’s an album which documents a fierce imagination at play; a truly invigorating piece of work that pushes her songwriting forward.

Unexpected, indulgent, and an absolute joy, ‘Metronomy Forever’ is a prophecy to get behind.

While it occasionally feels lacking in the kind of explosive energy that made the band such an impact in the late ‘80s, it still captures the spirit of Pixies in a way that’s extremely satisfying.

It’s still a worthwhile successor to them, of course. It’s just not the world-beater she’s surely capable of.

It’s the uniquely sombre and contemplative Iggy Pop album we didn’t realise we needed.

For the rest of us, Natasha’s first real pop effort since ‘Fur and Gold’ is an impressively lean and infectiously hook-laden romp; doomy disco for dark times.

Adam’s still the pied piper of indie, with a skip in his step and charm for days.

Saves The World carries the same weight as its predecessor, but breaks the dark-pop boundaries the band themselves created with their debut. It’s an exhilarating ode to self-preservation and to being your own number one fan.

Their most mature and concise work to date.

His sixth LP employs a rich palate in its production seamlessly blending trap beats with soul samples and orchestral flourishes.

Whether it’s a modern California of wildfires and livestreams, or a nostalgic glance at a James Dean, Marilyn Monroe make-believe - it’s Lana Del Rey’s world, we’re just living it.

Playful, weird and genuinely experimental, The S.L.P. is a ride worth getting on.

Painting a tranquil image of friendship and family, at times bordering on escapist, Black Belt Eagle Scout finds both the tenderness in companionship and its fragility.

An album which proves a bit of time off can make a huge difference, Powers sees The Futureheads fight fiercely once again.

The vocal interplay meshes with the restless instrumentation and some of the most layered and considered storytelling that anyone could ask for. For an agitated, hyper collection of weird songs about made up or distorted topics TFS come achingly close to the total package.

Jack Cooper’s soft vocals are so understated that for long sections it feels like an instrumental record, but this only adds to the album’s blissful allure. It’s a delicate piece of work that somehow it manages to feel fully-formed at the same time. And it’s this contradiction that makes it such a compelling piece of work.

Call it chill wave, call it dream pop, call her a bedroom producer - this album’s full of enough variety and adventure to make such generalisations moot. A real triumph.

The Center Won’t Hold is by far their most stylised, radio-friendly work to date; produced by St Vincent, Annie Clark’s icy sheen and dark seduction is all over the record.

It’s early to say, and its bold for sure, but there are a fair few legendary bands out there that were never quite as good as The Murder Capital are right now.

All in all, a confident second album that showcases why Shura should be on everyone’s radar.

The album is most interesting when it eschews from the guidelines.

This is as tropical and kaleidoscopic as Friendly Fires have ever been. It’s akin to gobbling an entire pack of Fruit Pastilles; colourful, maybe a little sickly, but you sure as hell want to experience it again.

Not so much Marika 3.0 as the Marika who was always there, but tougher, stronger and more triumphant than ever.

Sans-visual accompaniment the album can feel meandering and unfocused. Fortunately, the experimental production and dark atmosphere are compelling in their own right, and ‘Anima’ is ultimately a trip down the rabbit hole worth taking.

With a buoyant and self-aware use of slang that will have you opening up Urban Dictionary, paired with the one-track-per-week release schedule and the songs to back it up, Kim proves herself to be a true millennial pop princess in waiting.

A decade on from the pained remoteness of For Emma, Forever Ago, i,i holds the same intimacy and urgency, elevated by years of groundbreaking experimentation.

An album that finds the prodigious artist enjoying himself yet again.

Dude York are doing absolutely nothing new on Falling, but when they do it this well, the throwback is a welcome one.

Emotional Education is a thoughtful, carefully-constructed synthpop odyssey, based at its core around the vocal harmonisation by Lily Somerville and Megan Marwick and lent some tasteful gloss by production work from The xx collaborator Rodaidh McDonald as well as duo MyRiot.

The musical accompaniment to the installation works perfectly as a concept album, where heady instrumentals and psychedelic pop nuggets are intertwined with swelling strings and a nursery rhyme story narrated by The Clash’s Mick Jones.

A People’s History of Gauche captures both the rotten societal traits and inspiring persistence that is often associated with people on the ground.

Until The Tide Creeps In is a record totally out of step with any modern music scene, and all the more timeless and special for it.

Stonechild is an exercise in top-level songwriting, stately and intelligent.

Endlessly creative and euphoric, the MacGyvers of music have created a record that’s not only politically charged, but brimming with the joys of life and creativity.

The result sees Plague Vendor’s ferocious punk swirl around explosions of synth and thunderous electronic drums, a combination that ultimately propels their ever-present homage to classic sounds into the present day.

A record that barely takes its foot off the gas pedal. This onslaught would make even the most hardcore listener flinch. Bring earplugs.

Small Mercies is not a complete success, but Pixx’s creative voice remains unique.

Two Door Cinema Club have learnt how to harness their mainstream power while taking creative risks. They pay off almost every time.

The beauty of The Raconteurs is in the timeless joy of hearing two world-class songwriters, cut from two very different sides of a similar cloth, come together to make something if not greater, then at least as good as the sum of their considerable parts. And in that sense, Help Us Stranger succeeds, and then some.

A record that pushes each of its contributors to stamp their own mark, uniting them under the banner of heartbreak but leaving room for each vocalist to twist the blueprint to their own shape.

Their more collaborative process has brought an album that, while rarely deviating from that Hot Chip sound, feels lighter and freer. Like a band finally feeling confident in their own skin, inviting us to find escape from whatever troubles us in their music.

She writes and wears her heart on her sleeve, half-singing, half-sighing through her songs with wide-eyed candour, shining through such swoon-worthy dream- pop. At some point, you’ll wonder if it was Hatchie’s heartache and pain that was written about, or your own.

Far from the fools of their name, Dumb are onto something pretty magnetic.

Tackling interesting ideas and putting rock through an avant garde filter, Mattiel Brown’s powerful vocals once again impress too on what ultimately feels like a significant step forward.

A record which thrives on evoking feeling and catharsis, while remaining committed to their personal influences, on Doom Days they’ve managed to deftly build a conceptual world not all too different to the one we’re facing right now, and that feels like a triumph in itself.

On The Book of Traps and Lessons Kate Tempest continues to impress as one of the UK’s most vital voices.

With jubilant tie-dye riffs and squiggly guitar lines around every corner, And Now For The Whatchamacallit is every bit the celebratory psych-rock album it strives to be.

Much like their previous releases, Run Around the Sun is a collection of delightful, sunshine-soaked fuzz-pop.

A thread of hope and resilience runs through, via bright, surfy punk and power pop.

It feels darker an offering than some of their earlier work, more textured and full of otherworldly sound effects that often only become obvious on multiple listens.

The Dots is an outright success. It combines forward-thinking sound design with complex songwriting, and an astute taste for pop hooks with rich, intelligent lyrical content. It’s a joy to experience.

This opening statement from a band emerging as one of Britain’s most inspired and uncompromising, could just be a strong starting step in a vivid and unconventional journey.

Circling around Eva’s sharp, twangy vocals, the band’s second album is a gargantuan step forward, and one packed full of iron-clad mantras.

Everything feels less claustrophobic than on ‘Control’ as synths soar, rather than constrict. Beats bounce and guitars are led by the groove. Throughout ‘YU’, we see a grander side of her.

A bold, brave effort that’ll continue to see them rise through the rock ranks.

Eternal Forward Motion pushes onward with a clear mission and unrivalled force, and much like their two previous albums, it places Employed To Serve firmly at the forefront of innovation in British hardcore.

Diviner is an intensely intimate album that leaves Hayden with nowhere to hide. Thankfully, stepping fully into the spotlight and laying himself bare, he’s resplendent.

A great advert for Australia’s most incendiary live band.

The result is a deeply personal album, at once beautiful and mournful, and rarely straightforward.

Nothing Great About Britain permeates everything about this fantastic first record from the soon-to-be-star that is Tyron Frampton.

While ‘I Love You Like A Brother’ was littered with memorable choruses that would be lodged in your brain after one listen, it takes a good while of digging into ‘The Best Of Luck Club’ to find something that sticks.

There’s plenty here to push The National’s sound forwards and stave off stagnation.

Despite an overall likeability and affable sheen--it’s a little flatter than that.

Father Of The Bride is a joyous, fearless listen that builds on Vampire Weekend’s steeped history while simultaneously paying less attention to it than ever.

Overall, and perhaps importantly, it mostly sounds like something to sing along to, rather than the soundtrack to your next existential crisis.

One of his strongest bodies of work to date. It’s a richly textured piece of work which sees him expertly display his ability to make listeners find intimacy in vast soundscapes.

On their sixth LP, unpredictable Californians Foxygen are less up for a bop than an attempt at settling some scores.

Despite what the album’s plain, monochromatic cover art might suggest, this is a warm, textured collection of songs that breathes life at every corner. A real triumph.

Local Natives deliver a tale of affection deeply rooted in the realism of love, not just in romance but in life.

Closer ‘Cyboogie’, the cheesy, sci-fi-inspired lead single from the LP, is by far the most tepid of the set, as if marking the roll of the end-credits and a collective sigh of relief. With that being said, do not doubt that King Gizzard and the Lizard Wizard still know how to kick ass.

The music is genuinely rich, and creates a strong nostalgia for a musical era gone by.

Across twelve polished tracks, Jade switches from piano ballad to stomping singalong and back again, full of bold choruses and raw, ricocheting vocals.

Power and self-confidence run through the record. ... It also manages to veer away from feeling gimmicky, Lizzo’s vibrant personality and humour shining through a set of tracks that switches through elements of funk, pop and R&B with ease.

Both what you’d want and expect from a Chemical Brothers album, as well as a whole lot more on top, it pushes the duo firmly back to relevance.

It’s a charming and defiant debut, and one that encapsulates the GIRLI mindset, heartbreaks and all.

Fontaines DC have crafted a clear, unedited picture of who they are and what they’re made of. It’s a joy to witness.

The Seduction of Kansas is another evocative and considered album, the band reiterating their ability to present topics with tremendous clarity and depth. Which, given the complexity of their themes, is exactly what most of us are crying out for.

They may be using Morbid Stuff to face their demons head on, but there’s a sense of reckless abandon to the whole thing that makes it entirely freeing.

Titanic Rising presents an immensely elegant journey to a different place and time; in equal parts beautifully delicate and powerful.

Whether trying to find solace in community while battling your deepest demons, or after an uninhibited jig to some of the catchiest indie-pop around, Martha still have your back.

Despite this fervent distancing of themselves from party politics, Dog Whistle is a brutal, impassioned flag-in-the-ground for the disillusioned in New York and beyond.