It adds up to White’s most relatable – and accessible – record in some time.

A layered, atmospheric, darkly playful headrush of a first offering.

The result perhaps misses the conceptual cogency of earlier Tree peaks. But it doesn’t want for controlled reach. Over a tight 48 minutes, C/C weds a reinvigorated affirmation of band identity to expansive energies, all to confident effect: “The sum of all, of new and old,” as Wilson’s lyrics put it.

Far more than an indulgent side project, A Light For Attracting Attention deserves to be taken on its own merits as a daring, invigorating and often very moving piece of work in its own right.

The hardcore will need these and it’s hard to argue with the performances and the sound quality. Both shows find Young introducing new material from Harvest, released later that year, and beyond.

With themes of adult responsibility and parenthood bearing heavily on his mind, it might sound solemn in places, but it’s a hugely rewarding listen, a baroque-folk companion to the gorgeous undulating mysteries of Rock Bottom.

In attempting to circumvent the human mind, Everything Everything have found their heart, and made their finest album yet.

An unmitigated joy.

On (watch my moves), sticking to what he knows is all the fuel Vile needs for lift-off.

Skinty Fia is another triumph for this era’s most vital group.

Wet Leg’s debut album is simultaneously of its time, ahead of its time, and evokes past times.

Pop music at its very brightest.

Earthling gives an uplifting sense of the creative energy shared between Eddie Vedder and his keenly empathetic collaborators, distilled into striking, memorable songs, and unified by a fresh, cohesive sound. On this evidence, it’s to be hoped the partnership forges ahead as the day jobs allow.

They build their own world. Eventually you grasp its shrewdly filtered emotion and want to live there, too.

It finds House on spine-chilling form with clear vocals and stunning slide guitar on tracks such as Pony Blues, Preachin’ Blues and Death Letter. The re-mastering, courtesy of The Black Keys frontman Dan Auerbach, is also superb.

Fever Dreams Pts 1-4 is some great reward for the Marr faithful, a hope-fuelled 16-song set mounted on a generous, expansive balance of scope and detail.

It’s an album blazing with a refulgent light that illuminates the darkness. Ultimately, it’s a cathartic celebration of life co-created by someone who’s survived a traumatic experience. More importantly, it shows how heartbreak, suffering and tragedy can be refashioned into transcendent art.

[Eddie Piller] doesn’t sequence chronologically; his approach is more scattershot, with the emphasis on listening experience rather than presenting a history lesson. But 60s mod in all its rainbow colours is represented.

As well as drawing more liberally from the likes of My Bloody Valentine and the Cocteau Twins, this time they’ve woven into the mix some 80s synth-pop motifs (Masquerade could be Duran Duran circa 1982), but the overall effect remains as bewitching as ever.

The Overload is quite the debut.

Between the weather-worn blues reflections of Hard Times and the euphoric lift of closer Coalinga, the sense emerges of a band rediscovering their footing, a little saddle-sore but riding tall once more.

Sublimely crafted, incredibly well-played, there are all the reference points, yet it never sounds like a composite of old glories. The intelligence, urgency and immediacy of his 32nd album are a most welcome surprise.

Stylistically, Marshall’s “less is more” minimalism ensures Covers sounds remarkably cohesive, making it, as ever, a totally immersive listen.

From its bossa nova kick to its slabs of heavy organ, Kofi Psych sounds like an attempt to conjure The Doors’ Break On Through (To The Other Side) from a half-remembered conversation, while Say The Truth bears unlikely fruit from its cross-pollination of highlife rhythms, celestial early prog and The Strawberry Alarm Clock. Sadly, Essilfie-Bondzie died as this compilation was in the works but, as this set often shows, his legacy is assured.

Maybe after the stresses and strains of the past couple of years we need a familiar embrace to soothe away our pain. Raise The Roof fits the bill, even if it might win fewer prizes for originality than its predecessor.

An album of adroitly chosen covers and something more. Poke around in its shadows and the songs often investigate the idea of putting on a front as a kind of catharsis, their ravaged depths trawled for high drama.

Her artistry had never been so robust. As the earlier, more mournful In Concert version of Carey shows, Mitchell would dig deep in the studio to find a euphoric vocal that causes the song to soar. ... For Mitchell at this stage, then, nothing was ever truly a failure, but more an opportunity to take her art to new heights.

While the Toy highlight Shadow Man introduces “… a man back a-ways/Who believes at where he is”, at this stage of his career, David Bowie could reflect on where he’d been with pride – including, as Brilliant Adventures shows, another decade of committing to himself.