Keepers of the Light is a rarity for a double album: its indulgence (seriously, 144 minutes?) rarely grates, and its individuality doesn't cramp its funkiness.

Stranger to Stranger’s effect is most potent when there’s some interplay between a complex, danceable groove and a salient philosophical offering.

Here, all percussion devastates; it pounds away at the insides of Life… The Best Game In Town like a beast caged, packed ready for shipping. Let it loose and all hell’s coming your way.

Whatever the case, 50 Words...demands to be listened to as a whole.

Even for those who already have both of the previous volumes, Mermaid Avenue: The Complete Sessions is a fascinating look at one of America's greatest writers.

It’s the closeness and the honesty which makes ‘I’m Wide Awake, It’s Morning’ a thing of awe.

It's all tension and release, with barely a second wasted to gasp for air amidst the squall of a band on invigorating form.

Both ancient and futuristic, a mildewed signal from a more advanced culture that failed to survive the ice age, Third doesn’t make you pay attention to its desolate contours, but rather stare out of the window, creeping panic causing your mind to dart in a million dark directions at once.

Central Belters isn’t so much a practical collection of music, more a monument to an inspirational career.

Andy Stott seems to be evolving with each new EP, and scales new heights with this one.

The band's fourth and best album to date, there is no denying his prowess as a Nick Cave for a new generation, even if, ironically, Casey is closer to Cave's than the rest of his band or most of his audience.

They turn critics into gibbering wrecks unable to write proper reviews and leave us forced to just string together our favourite lyrics like a damn teenage girl scribbles Tokio Hotel choruses onto her bed headboard. But, y’know. Hairier.

Ironically, this package was always going to be one for the completists, but those who’ll actually get the most from Bleach are still the "Nevermind" fans left feeling alienated by the gnarled triumph that was "In Utero."

Is it a worthy addition to their canon, though? Absolutely. The things that make this band a real treasure can all still be found here--the slightly beat-up romanticism, the pessimism of the secret optimist, the big, bold beauty of the melodies, the detailed imperfect perfection of the music.

The Lost Tapes isn't an easy album to listen to, but then that was never the case with Can. Nonetheless, as the years pass and more bands form, by default their influence grows, which makes this a fascinating addition to any collection.

Ultimately, though, this is a more than solid album from a band who it was once assumed had given up. While nothing will compare to the band's exceedingly unattainable debut, it is refreshing to see the band learn from their mistakes on Coexist and create something new and intriguing, but still ultimately them.

Ordinary Corrupt Human Love is a waypoint in an increasingly divided world of niche cultures and categorisations, and it’ll capture the imaginations of those secure outside their comfort zones while further alienating detractors. Mission accomplished.

Fleet Foxes might have put a lot of worry into the making of Helplessness Blues, but thankfully it was worth it.

Perhaps they're settling into their identity... Fast and furious often, melodic often, powerful often, diverse always.

This is a beyond-commendable comeback, so much better than it probably has any right to be.

Benji contains some of the most evocative songs about mortality and youth that have ever been written.

Where Subtle use many words to convey many things, I will use one: perfection.

As fan-boy pleasing as this is, and as great as some of the songs are, it still feels a little like sneaking a peek at a director’s first draft, or rummaging through a scribbly, discarded diary.

With the likes of 'European Super State' and 'In Cythera' emitting a clubbier vibe amidst their industrialized beats to bring The Singles Collection... up to the present, it serves as a timely reminder why Killing Joke continue to be held in such high esteem.

It’s her attempt to understand femininity, and that occurs here in poetic and often quite abstract fashion. Evidently, for Marling, femininity is less fickle and changeable than mesmerisingly mysterious.

Furman has not lost his terrific way with a tune, a rhythm and a lyric, this time often paired up with odd sound effects or quirky instrumentation that just make it all the more compelling and moreish. Although the subject matter can be heavy (and all the better for it), it is presented in fabulous slowly-building pop tune wrapping.

It'd be reductive to try and describe a timeless album like Smother as a step up from its two predecessors, or even as a surefire Mercury contender--although it is, on both counts.

It is a stunning and ambitious piece of work; one for the ages.