As ever, their songs are structured, paced and technically advanced in a way that's leagues above much of this genre.

Their jangly indie-rock explores the journey of two twin brothers separated at birth through a procession of the schizophrenic ('Drunken Birds') and the more accessible ('Warmer Warmer') with largely satisfying results.

Even after 20 years in the game, there are still few better. Welcome back, sirs.

While hardly what you’d call commercial, ‘Oversteps’ contains some of the pair’s most approachable material for aeons, with their usual alien and sometimes hostile soundscapes peppered with vibrant melodies, particularly on the swirling brooding ambience of ‘Ilandrers’ and bright, fizzing ‘Treale’.

Like every true outlaw before them, The Icarus Line haven't mellowed with age; they've gotten gnarlier.

Throw in the stunning power and clarity of Alan Moulder's mix and you have the sound of a band revitalised, re-inspired and highly evolved.

A relentlessly insistent, unexpectedly danceable record which manages to be as engaging as it is wilfully bizarre.

This preposterously technical mish-mash of progressive metal, full-throated hardcore, operatic female vocals and lounge jazz interludes triumphantly evidences a band taking an absurd amount of joy in kicking against the pricks.

Overall, it’s an impressive progression on all counts.

This is a worthy follow-up. Its 12 sultry, sumptuous songs see Brennan Greaves and Britty Drake swap turns singing over a wash of fuzzy, forlorn guitars.

Even at its most meandering points (‘Nowhere Lullaby’), the tangents on ‘There Is No Enemy’ feel purposeful. Martsch’s lyrics remain wry and erudite, but he’s back to expressing himself in a more whimsical fashion and, more importantly, writing actual melodies.

Kieran Hebden’s first album as Four Tet in almost five years is perhaps his best yet, sealing his reputation for blending jazz, electronica and classical influences into seamless, shimmering soundscapes with an ever-mutating style.

The result is a beautifully fragile acoustic record that positions him as the missing link between Kurt Cobain and Johnny Cash.

11 tracks with all the anguish that melodic hardcore thrives on, but with enough testosterone to keep it on the right side of whiney.

It works. It all makes an album full of awesome, genuine pop-rock music. Time will tell if this album and the next couple of years propel this band to the huge rooms these songs were made for, but for now? A great band just got even better.

While it's not a groundbreaking redefinition of what metal should be, it's a firm statement of intent from the London-based quintet.

In Our Bones is a versatile, ballsy take on modern pop-rock, and it’s impossible not to sit back and admire as Chrissy, Dan and Will take another step on the way to superstardom.

11 blistering, confrontational, and breathtakingly intense tracks.

It doesn't shun country influences altogether, mind--when matched to the album's mood and Green's plain-speaking lyrics, they function to add a soulful feel to a set of characteristically lovely, melancholic songs.

Lonesome guitars wend their way through the shimmer of rising heat, synth swells collapse into dust and a plaintive violin calls to a long-lost lover, all of which twines itself together to form a rich experimental drone that's as vast, lonely and unending as the desert images they conjure.

A stinging reprise of ’93’s ‘American Jesus’ serves as a timely reminder that these perennial bastions of articulate dissent haven’t gone soft on us quite yet.

[The departure of keyboardist/multi-instrumentalist Franz Nicolay] Far from having a negative affect on these 10 songs, The Hold Steady have flourished in this slight change of tack, with frontman Craig Finn's inimitable, narrative lyrics as stirring as ever.

Merging brittle, jittery riffing, fraught tremolo-picked flutters with mesmeric drum patterns and tense, semi-spoken vocals the result is as resounding a success as ever and a reassuring testament to the ongoing fertility of the Louisville underground.

There’s no filler here, even the short instrumental numbers deserve their place as they break up the album into chapters. A surprisingly good follow-up, Life Is Sweet! Nice To Meet You is essential listening.

Beastmilk have created a seductively dark slab of post-punk which manages to not take itself too seriously, while still being brilliant enough for it not to become comical. And that’s a fine balance.

It’s impossible not to admire the scale and ambition of what Sleeping With Sirens are trying to achieve here, so don’t be too surprised if they’re swapping Warped Tour for arenas before too long.

Man Overboard have done a fine job of not only flying the flag high for DIY pop-punk, but also at emerging as the forerunners of the scene.

The elephant in the room though, is new vocalist Denis Stoff, and the questions over his ability to replace a gifted albeit difficult frontman. Largely, his quest is a triumphant one, and he turns in an admirable performance.