Hinds are here to have fun, whether you like it or not. They may not push past boundaries they are comfortable with, but they have identified the qualities that make them special--carving out their own niche in the modern music spectrum of loveable lo-fi embedded with off-kilter charm.

It’s not a complete lack of experimental ventures, but a limited volume. Regardless, this latest version of the band has clearly found a style that works, and the album definitely exhibits a bold direction, even if the average STP fan would naturally like to see a higher volume of daring moments.

Ultimately, Sex & Food is a very impressive record from not only Nielsen but also just to possess during these troubling times. There’s a lot to be scared about right now, but there’s also a lot out there to love, and thanks to UMO, we now have a soundtrack for that.

Goat Girl might be 19 tracks long but don't let that put you off. At just 40 minutes in length it doesn't stick around long enough to incur tedium, and what's more, each of its consistent parts makes for an explosive whole that demands repeat listens.

Nonetheless, if you sense that Preoccupations have yet to nail a defining sound, then it’s part of their appeal that they may in fact never be defined by a sound. New Material hits the spot more often than not.

The Louder I Call, The Faster It Runs is a symphony in freedom, and a potent testament to Wye Oak’s ambition moving forwards, the possibilities for this band are limitless.

Opener ‘Breathe’ raises shivers with its breakdown and descending strings, ‘Flowers’ has the queasy intensity of My Bloody Valentine and makes elegant use of space and balance, while ‘JOY’ is a throbbing fuzz monster, all desperation and thunder. Again and again the trio wrap drama in something shimmering and glorious, like aural pigs-in-blankets, weaving intricate and catchy lead lines and rattling snare fills between huge pillars of sonic emotion.

The few extra tracks that follow ["Slow Fade"] don’t really do much apart from bloat the run time, which is my only gripe with the record, really. That aside though (and what it lacks in depth, it more than makes up for in atmosphere) it’s an intriguing look at a talented producer carving his own path, and making dancefloors a little bit weirder.

In producer David Fridman, whose psychedelic instincts have added glow to everything from Flaming Lips and Mercury Rev to Creaming Jesus, MGMT and Sleater Kinney, Lovely Eggs have found a collaborator who understands that warmth, weirdness and wit can be melted into walls of queasy noise to quite gorgeous effect. Between them they’ve made something genuinely glorious. There’s nothing funny about that.

Hormone Lemonade is an endearing listen that focuses primarily on the here and now, and as a result messrs Gane, Dilworth and Zapf have every reason to be overtly satisfied at their latest creation.

There’s no swinging drama in Brion’s work on Lady Bird, but the meaning isn’t hard to find, either; it’s light, but not frothy. Above all, just like the film, it’s warm as toast.

Nash hasn't just tried to continue her legacy as one of the UK's most iconic, honest and innovative pop sensations… she has completely rewritten it.

The strongest chunk of the album comes not in the first third, but in the stream of songs that starts with ‘Out On the Street’, ‘Take It Easy’ and ends with the final track.

It's a richly evocative record that is impossible to sit still to and confirms Laveaux as a unique talent.

It’s esoteric and unsettling, because he’s done trying to reason with us.

Like its predecessor, Now Only lays profoundly bare Elverum’s grief. But although it is often an excruciating listen, it also finds room to step, however briefly, outside of the agony that marked its predecessor, if just for long enough to suggest that Elverum is, somehow, beginning to find some relief in the unbearable.

POST- is an incredibly fun record, and its sequencing feels like the live experience. The way Rosenstock launches into each song is a delight.

There’s a Riot Going On is their fifteenth album and, like most of their discography, it carries itself with an unassuming (but powerful) air of quiet confidence.

This is the organic culmination of our protagonist’s most singular travels, and he’s reached a most puzzling bliss.

The first half of the album is characterised by high energy, fast-paced songs, best shown by raucous singalong ‘All This Way’ and ‘Getting Along’. At points these are in danger of blurring into each other but I think this may just be because of the specific order they’re listed in. ... The second half of the record is quieter, with a more musing outlook.

This is yet another example of Hot Snakes at the top of their game, except this time they gave 14 years in exile for other, lesser bands to catch up with them only to reclaim the throne with ease.

Girl or boy, The Decemberists have been there to drape a drunken arm around in the absence of fortune for the best part of 15 years now. The good news is, the tone in that arm is firmly set again. A genuine and welcome joy.

He hits heights that few artists of this genre can reach and although this isn’t maintained consistently throughout the record, the heavenly levels of joy and bliss he’s able to impart prove the purity of his talent and the worth of his experience.

This is a far more stripped down, stream-lined record that remains just as essential and urgent as all their output so far with little to no compromise.

I'm Bad Now delivers throughout its 11, mostly restrained pieces in a way that highlights Chapman's exquisite prowess for astute observational prose.

It’s clear with Violence that Editors are working to build upon their new sound instead of re-inventing and re-producing, and though their efforts of combining dark indie disco pop with more morose lyrics and guitar undertones, it is a refreshing new direction.

Mutual Horse is a feast for the senses, demonstrating Miranda’s potential. She is truly an underrated artist with exceptional talent and imagination.

This album has a scale to it that occasionally transcends the intimacy one may associate with much of Youngs’ back catalogue.