The Delta Sweete Revisited probably isn’t destined to be anything more than an interesting footnote in the career of anybody involved. But it certainly has something to it: a mood, an ambience, an ethereal sultriness, chilly northern mists turning to hot southern steam.

There is something to be said about a record like Quiet Signs, which finds its maker willingly dwindle and fade within the corporeal world’s fog and decay. It may be an old fashioned idea, sure, but it’s one that will undoubtedly age well.

Of course, we already knew that SGD could dish out more than most amateur punks. But this time around, the duo flaunt even more of their hard rock swagger. Ursula finesses the kit like the legends, while Delilah can command her voice with more expression and scathing attitude than ever before.

Slaves of Fear isn’t perfect, but then I’m not sure it’s trying to be. It’s all over the place, but is also strangely connected. It’s good, just leave me alone now--I need a lie down.

Folk-rock, synth-pop, and more mature delves into the post-punk spectrum of alternative rock are all explored in What Chaos Is Imaginary. Each song is a new chapter offering insight into the multi-dimensional world that is Girlpool--and every one is more intricate, more complex, more captivating than the last.

Ripples is a record which will likely struggle have any relevance, impact or longevity beyond the goodwill of its own gestation. Which really is a shame.

As well as they’ve delivered The Teal Album, they don’t quite hit the mark with every one of its takes, with their version ‘No Scrubs’ feeling more than a little bit uncomfortable.

Creevy’s vocals are a controlled force, and it’s hard to image a woman who writes so incisively about her feelings ever recorded a song about grilled cheese. The potential was there from the beginning. It’s nice to see that they’ve realised it.

With Highway Hypnosis, the cool kid sets the trend yet again--now floating almost entirely away from the bass, Moolchan cranks down the tempo for a decisively more urban flair that draws from the streets of Lisbon, Atlanta, and London in equal measure. And somehow, even with all this new swag, our sneaky protagonist loses none of the prankster wit that turned heads in the first place.

Blake’s musical pallet is a fair bit brighter of late and you can expect a deeper, stronger and more solid vocal tone on much of the album.

Get Tragic, quite candidly, is a virtually perfect record. There’s nothing about it that’s out of place. It draws on the best parts of the band’s past history, catchy choruses, glam-rock guitars, electronic riffs that don’t leave your mind for days, mind-blowing lyrics--all combined with a glamour that lurks at the edge of the hometown you escaped, as the sun slowly sets.

Future Ruins progresses at a pleasing rate, though it never really pushes beyond its genre confines. Every track here is solid-to-good-to-occasionally-great with a friendly, familiar vibe of a bygone nature without ever really presenting anything new or challenging.

With 2019 fresh upon us, hopefully the splendour of Outer Peace is an eclectic foreshadowing of a thrilling year in music.

Its strangeness is all-pervasive, yet understated. It‘s Deerhunter’s quietest record to date, and not exactly lacking in hooks--’Element’ and ‘Plains’ are earworm-ish. And yet everything’s ineffably odd. ... But it all adds to the the album’s allure--a singular thing, not quite of this world, desert fruit ripening quietly on the eve of the end.

Remind Me Tomorrow isn’t as consistently captivating as Tramp or Are We There, but it’s nonetheless a delightful return, one that gives us a new (pleasingly less traumatic) window into Van Etten’s world.

It shows an artist no longer caught in his own artistic web, but someone watching his past selves struggle from a higher vantage point.

It’s a determined, seductive experience, brimming with belief and completely torching everything they’ve done before. As of now, The Twilight Sad are basically untouchable.

It’s unsentimental and unfussy, as both Moffat and Dickens’ best stuff usually is, but still radiates a simple joy in celebrating a special time of the year.

None of the live tracks which also appeared across various formats of This Is My Truth...'s singles are included, which is a shame as there was no better live band anywhere on the planet at this point. Nevertheless, this is a rewarding compendium if only as a means of re-evaluating an album that was promptly dismissed by some, yet when all's said and done, in many ways years ahead of its time.

This, like the other excellent records he has given us since his belated emergence into the global limelight, is a work of quiet--but nonetheless defiant--beauty from a true great of contemporary classical music, who we must all continue to cherish for as long as we can. Essential.

Along with fellow Birmingham rabble rousers Table Scraps, Sunshine Frisbee Laserbeam have made a record that proves the spirit of DIY is alive, well and living somewhere off the M42/A34 axis.

These are ultimately, however, personal stories that are elevated by their universal nature.

Less a concert than a monument to a life, a jubilant-sad, bittersweet way to mark the beginning of this old man’s final act, a taking stock, an affirmation that this all mattered. Springsteen on Broadway is a show about a man who dreamed of escape who never escaped.

Amidst the madness of Oneohtrix Point Never’s music, these are songs that hit the core of humanity and therein lie their beauty.

It is not monotony but repetition, not sing-a-long surface but deeply-felt rhythms, shunning songwriting convention for more fertile ground.

It’s the points at which A Brief Inquiry Into Online Relationships veers away from the preset aesthetic that feel the most profound.

Where this EP lacks in progression, it makes up for in the strength of the songwriting.

Laibach has done little to diminish their brilliance on a loaded, thought-provoking, and immeasurably entertaining release.