This fifth album resolutely refuses to tread water, instead coming on like a literary pop version of The Maccabees’ recent explorations in jittery psychedelia.

After years of chopping and changing, Bombay Bicycle Club have finally found an iteration worth sticking with.

Although his mission proves futile, he approaches it with a curiosity of spirit that makes ‘Along The Way’ a captivating and nourishing listen, less noodly than his early solo releases and more in the vein of the composerly streak exhibited on 2011’s ‘Get Lost’.

It's a timely refresh of rosy-cheeked indie-pop mores.

What diminishes War Room Stories is the songs themselves, which can feel a little ordinary. Rappak’s vocal is a bit sub-Yannis Philippakis, a monotone half-mumble that doesn’t make the most of his intriguing lyrics.

Former DFA man Tim Goldsworthy has helped them find more sonic sparkle in the production of their second album Dunes, but they nonetheless remain a confused proposition.

36 minutes and three tracks of rich, enveloping, meditative heaviness.

Shamelessly self-indulgent, you imagine their aim is to jam themselves into a sonic trance as much as the listener.

An adventurous and fun record.

Quilt really shine when Anna Fox Rochinski, Shane Butler and John Andrews harmonise impeccably over the spooky melodies of 'Saturday Bride' and 'Secondary Swan'.

Here Brian Fallon’s voice is as beaten and battered as the perfect leather jacket, and all the more beguiling for it.

Whether listening to them or foolhardily attempting to describe them, there’s little about Marijuana Deathsquads that’s easy, but that doesn’t make their third LP any less rewarding.

For the most part, though, After The Disco unfolds at a fertile equidistance from each man’s comfort zone (inasmuch as a polymath like Burton can be said to have one) and the results are a marked improvement.

This record is fun with a capital ‘F’, but there are moments of gravitas too. Not easy to do, that.

It’s easy to hear his plaintive songs, full of heartbreak, mountains and fjords, and picture Ásgeir recording in Bon Iver-style isolation.

‘Ways To Phrase A Rejection’ proves the four-piece do a good enough job of recreating the kitchen-sink narratives of the era, but where they really excel is when they slip back into the 21st century.

O’Neill’s sixth sounds both settled and intensely familiar, with the sense little time has passed since 2009’s ‘A Ways Away’.

Only the appearance of Barbadian teen rap prodigy Haleek Maul, annotating the grimy 'ISIS' with a murky charisma saves Supreme Cuts from slipping completely between the cracks.

Peggy Sue’s fourth LP impresses throughout, a record of soulful depths and heady, emotional highs.

Overall Trouble bristles with the freedom of early Breeders or Throwing Muses.

By drinking deep from the coolest records and the hippest poets, Penny succeeds in beginning a new chapter for her band.

Mostly Ghettoville is an exciting new landscape to get lost in and explore, even if it does spell the end for Actress.

While their true believers might not mind the record’s overall lack of variety, for anyone new to the band there’s little on None The Wiser to separate them from the indie-rock chaff.

Lee’s lyrics are sometimes sentimental to the point of potentially seeming trite, but they’re logical for a situation where love and pain have become so overwhelming that simple statements seem the most trustworthy.

A collection of astounding anthems for a new tomorrow, made by the disaffected youth of today.

This is a deeply personal record, unequivocally sensual.

It’s Grace’s own personal journey with gender dysphoria in ‘True Trans Soul Rebel’, ‘Paralytic States’ and ‘Drinking With The Jocks’ that has the most impact, though, the latter being the sort of raging polemic that proves the hardcore spirit of Black Flag is still alive and kicking.

Rave Tapes doesn’t stray far from the Mogwai comfort zone, but nor is it the sound of a band clapped out. Nineteen years in, there are still crescendos left to climb.