These guys are passionate about what they're doing.

The album is absurd, confusing (the random sequencing can be a bitch if you're trying to follow individual plots), hilarious (only Merritt could pen a libretto titled What A Fucking Lovely Day!) and bloody brilliant.

Even if his singing never touches Damon Albarn's, he seems confident in his voice, using his shortcomings to his advantage to burn through 13 tracks inspired by a passion for late-70s Brit punk.

It appears that the recording regime involved in focusing on a series of 7-inch singles rather than a new album has brought back some of the old creative spark.

Their bleakest set of songs ever.

A beautifully tense and thoughtful record.

Case's overzealous self-production means there are layers upon layers to every track, which sometimes works to her detriment.

Admittedly, the whiny Martsch-inspired delivery of singer dude Christian Hjelm will be a turnoff for some, but the Figurines' compositional skill shows real promise, and their endearing enthusiasm should win them many fans over here.

Demented, sloppy, brilliant, and above all a great way to spend three-quarters of an hour.

Their riff-heavy songs are brashly delivered – favouring attitude over technique – but it's Turner's keenly observed vignettes of bored text-messaging teens that really connect.

While the sheer density of Bejar's writing can be overwhelming, Destroyer's Rubies is, on a musical level, the most 'accessible' disc he's released in years.

The record is rife with brow-raising darts and the mindblowing beats to match, outstripping the last two Dilated records and threatening the alignment of your neck vertebrae in the process.

A shockingly good batch of rock, pop and punk tunes.

Occasionally, the band comes close to falling back into old habits, but with their new enthusiasm for sounding nothing like they used to, they've successfully created an album's worth of intelligent music for the Warped crowd.

While Orton has a tendency to mimic her own melodies, she explores jazz structures here in engaging, exciting ways, and the indigent heartland iconography of her lyrics is beautiful without being cloying.

It's Collett's ability to lyrically and aurally crystallize moments in time that makes this album such a delight.

The writing here is sharp and stunning, but the real difference between this and other Cat Power discs is that The Greatest has room to breathe.

She benefits from solid production by Saddle Creek staple Mike Mogis, who tweaks her retro sound with synths and electronic blips, but it's the stark M. Ward-produced tracks that, while more traditional, showcase the Dolly Parton potential in Lewis's voice.

GBV fans should definitely check this one out – there's a lot to like.

At times, Cash nails the knife-edge of hurt and love so adeptly, you feel like you're intruding on too-personal confessions.

Long-time fans might be a bit weirded out by the shift, but a few seconds hearing Ditto channel Peggy Lee on the smoky torch burner Coal To Diamonds should assuage their fears.

A perfectly enjoyable and to-the-point album that leans heavily on influences like the Cure and My Bloody Valentine.