In and of itself, So Long, See You Tomorrow is more or less flawless BBC; their music has always been polite, erudite and winsome, and that beat does not skip here.

‘Morning’ is stately in a hopeful sort of way; ‘Heart’ an uptempo standout that hints at the quiet majesty of Nick Drake in his ‘Bryter Layter’ period. Meanwhile the striking ‘Wave’ pits Beck’s vocal against a lush, sad string arrangement by his dad--but there are moments where the introspection slides into an acoustic torpor, too.

The Oklahoma songwriter is back with some of her most ebullient, ambitiously styled music to date on St Vincent.

Occasionally the bare-bones arrangements, a virtue in the main, serve to expose minor shortcomings in the songs. But overall, it’s a quibble far outweighed by the thrill afforded by a record that’s as honest and open-hearted as anything this great band have put their names to yet.

Menace Beach may have their sonic ingredients already established, but the result is even better than the sum of their parts.

A well-rounded and mature second album.

More Dum Dum than Vivian, September Girls’ debut LP is a reverb-ridden sass-pot of a thing--all fluttering eyelashes and scratchy underbelly.

Total Strife Forever (thanks, Foals) is an ambitious, absorbing debut, and still probably only a glimpse of what East India Youth’s capable of.

Sure, there’s clunky country passages (‘Houston Hades’), brassy crooning (‘J Smoov’) and Cream-y jams (‘Cinnamon and Lesbians’), but Malkmus’ wit remains more than intact in his middle-age.

It might be as modern as loincloth, but ‘California X’ is surely a future classic.

Join The Dots makes good on the band’s promise to deliver a new album every year, though you can’t help but feel certain songs were neglected in favour of more sophisticated production values.

Even attention-grabbing appearances by Lovefoxxx and Hot Chip’s Alexis Taylor don’t distract from the ambition, intellectualism and plain-speaking seductiveness that make ‘SUM/ONE’ a more than impressive listen.

It all feels rather too short, which was surely Mazes’ plan all along: leave ‘em wanting more.

This is just the latest in a series of EPs from the Philadelphian, though some may quibble it’s light on original material.

Featuring cameos from David Longstreth, Chairlift’s Caroline Polachek, Kindness and more Cupid Deluxe is a rich, rewarding listen.

There’s a handful of ballads too--the surest sign of maturity--but just when we think they’ve given up the pacy numbers forever, they sucker-punch us at the death with the perfect one-two combo of ‘Unwanted Place’ and ‘Young’.

Psychedelic leanings and Le Bon’s fragile Welsh lilt make Mug Museum a typically unusual listen, but its sincerity shines throughout, finding beauty in the strangest, sometimes saddest of places.

It’s good to have them back.

When it works, it’s brilliant.... But at times Caramel feels undercooked.

Whilst Lorde’s world creates its own incredibly distinctive atmosphere, it feels accessible and open to maturing.

Bold, vulnerable and pleasingly disjointed, miraculously Night Time, My Time was worth the wait.

With psych bite and cosmic volume stripped away, Nielson’s brilliant, dextrous playing and addled lyrical bravery are illuminated brighter than ever.

The now-quartet’s fourth record marries prickly melody with glossy discord, eclipsing not only its predecessors but its entire genre.

Thanks to the sheer joy with which he performs it (produced here for the first time by Kieran Hebden), it’s irresistibly, inevitably satisfying.

What richly rewarding, flourishing, beautiful songs they are.

Beautiful Rewind is the sound of an artist looking to cut loose, and its playful spirit proves catching.

The rapid and rabid ‘You’ve Got Me Wonderin’ Now’, replete with wonky recorder, matches the velocity of that record [Light Up Gold], as does the hurtling ‘Descend (The Way)’.

For now it’s still deliciously entertaining.

One Breath lacks the overwhelming force of her earlier material, but given time it will surely burrow under your skin.

Psychic is perfectly executed, impenetrable.

The juggernauting anthemia that has become their signature is upscaled for Reflektor, a wider-than-widescreen, 70-minute, two-disc odyssey.

There’s a sheen to much of Days Are Gone that can prevent you from delving further. But it’s a minor quibble on the whole, chiefly because the songs are strong enough to keep pulling you in for repeated listens, each hook burying itself deeper and deeper.

The Californians still play ethereal tunes that could waft on forever.

This is music that demands to be played loud, and often.

An unholy marriage of the brutal and the brilliant, fuelling suspicion that their best is yet to come.

It’s intimidating at first, but once your eyes acclimatise, you’ll relish joining them in the shadows.

This isn’t her masterpiece (that’s to come in the sixth and seventh suites), but it’s only a sliver away.

Beneath every stoner vocal or woozy guitar line there’s enough melodic nous to ensure Melbourne never wobbles too far into drug casualty territory.

It’s the romantic last dance of an album that shows that they’re still the same old Monkeys. Just dressed up slicker and sexier.

As closer ‘Black’ fades out, it’s clear MONEY have made something special and, maybe, even sacred.

The result is a collection of songs that really soar in a way that some previous material hasn’t.

Frankly, it’s a delightful, demented journey into pure psych chaos. Essential listening.

If you wanted a masterpiece, this isn’t it--it’s too long and stoned for that. Rather, it’s an invigorating, assertive and magical collection that’s probably cleverer than you are.

On An Object, their blissy ambient tinkerings finally feel earned and essential.

The very retro Sleeper is an acoustic affair, characterised by bluesy downers and portentous balladry.

With Loud City Song, Julia Holter marks the scene’s zenith, continuing her journey from obscurity, through marginality and onwards into accessibility.

Their debut is yearning blog-pop, which might be a bit ‘2009 called...’ if songs like ‘New House’ weren’t just as sharp as their 80s, sax-ballad ancestors.

Balanced, measured and, when necessary, jump-out-of-the-scented-candle-filled-bath creepy.

AlunaGeorge are a pop act at heart, with most of this debut’s songs anchored to a radio-friendly chorus.

Although it doesn’t always hit the mark, Swim Deep’s debut proves more than capable of matching to the dizzying highs they write about.

At times a lick more panache might have leavened proceedings, but ‘Winter Reigns” celebration of the great English pub (where “the dark’s never far behind”, naturally) rounds out this confident debut in style.

A fearsome, mind-bending collection.

Wonderfully, it’s somehow nostalgic and current at the same time.

Outlines are blurred between post-punk, rave and a very modern psychedelia; brushing between textures and emotions with skillful subtlety and provoking sincere disappointment.

Their kings of the beach crown may have slipped a little nowadays, but Wavves still offer plenty of no-frills fun.

Sure, this is a great garage rock record--but it’s dreaming even bigger.

It’s undeniably a slacked out soundtrack for dopey wallflowers everywhere, but Unreal is also a surprisingly progressive affair that speaks to your soul.

This mostly-great follow-up is occasionally waylaid by its determination to make bad instruments sound good.

What’s impressive is that, for all its hymnal melodramatics, Impersonator somehow bypasses insufferability.

An album that ups the radio-friendly factor without compromising any emotion.

What Kanye has created is the most honest--and yes, at times dislikable--record of his career.

Most of the songs here start like slowburn opener ‘What We Done?’, with Stelmanis’ constantly tremulous voice front and centre surrounded by ever-increasing layers of synths, padded beats and distant percussion. If you can get past it, however, there’s much to enjoy.

It’s a compelling story; through industry difficulties and growing pains, comes a lovesick, loveable and brilliant album.

This is Peace using 90s sounds to channel that decade’s optimism into something positive for today.

Despite expanding their sonic remit further than ever, Queens Of The Stone Age are still the same peerless band, indebted only to themselves.

It’s a half-hour packed with ideas and wonky ambition.

Far from daft, Tomorrow’s Harvest is a psycho-spiritual stormer.

It’s not perfect--‘Grab Her’ and ‘Stimulation’ both outstay their welcome and the glitchy ‘Second Chance’ feels like it’s from a different album--but it’s a consistently thrilling debut.

These songs are all excellent, and if the album had maintained that level of consistency it might have shaded into genius, but sadly the rest falls short, frequently lapsing into a pleasant but slight flexing of Thundercat’s considerable chops.

As far as second albums go, this is quite brilliant--enough of a departure to render it excitingly fresh, yet still tinged with all the bleeps, pulses and slides that put the magic in Magic Arm the first time of asking.

It’s the longest and best Laura Marling record yet.

It’s a sensory experience throughout.

Nostalgic, positive and romantic, it pumps new warmth into Copenhagen’s cold and concrete punk movement.

Whilst often brilliant, Crawling makes you wonder why Pure X have swapped pleasure for pain.

More Light is prosaic, but also proof that when you want to rally a new generation, it’s not Marcus Mumford you want holding the megaphone.

Not a great leap forwards, then, but a welcome throwback nonetheless.

Though Modern Vampires Of The City is flawed--there’s no stand-out single, and the low-key ‘Obvious Bicycle’ is far too sombre to justify its billing as the opening track--repeat listens to this third act are rewarded.

A complete lack of compromise anywhere. Yet, whilst that means that it takes a few listens for the intricacies to fully come through (alongside stormy brooder ‘Strife’, early single ‘Husbands’ is still the most sonically independent offering here), it fundamentally endows the record with a clarity of vision that justifies all the hyperbole.

It’s a pitching and yawing listen, and it’s compelling and punchy in a way that’ll have you bouncing straight out of your chair.

An intimate and very British release to cherish and hold close; it also happens to be one of the year’s best so far.

He’s absorbed new influences into the unique framework he creates around his songs, pulling in aspects of house, gospel and R&B to create something alluringly strange yet pleasingly palpable.

Despite its length and moments of lyrical self-loathing, Wakin' neither bores nor depresses.

While some of the abstract material here is frustratingly opaque, how many other ‘pop’ acts can you name that would have the brass cojones to drop a near 20-minute track right in the middle of their record? Astonishing.

It doesn’t quite rank alongside their very strongest material, but there are still more rippling vocal harmonies and gutting one-liners than most bands could be proud of in a lifetime.

By turns, If You Leave is word-in-the-ear intimate and mountain-range massive.

Fortunately, the contents don’t disappoint.

It’s happy to take the listener on sudden, unexpected, journeys but also to just be exactly what it is; a really great rock album from a man who knows a thing or two about writing really great rock albums.

Her classically trained sensibilities shine through on her first solo effort, which sparkles with understated beauty.

Girls Names make sadness moreish and hypnotic.

It’s a rewarding mixture of romance, wit and fantasy.

Oozing more nihilistic youthful abandonment than anyone since Black Lips, their manifesto sounds pretty appealing from here.

Dutch Uncles’ third album is easily the Manchester band’s most accomplished effort to date.

As with Real Estate, producer Kevin McMachon has coaxed the wispy dreaminess of an excellent debut into a progressive, immersive successor.

Philippakis’s words are open and raw. As for their sound, it’s as vital and as fresh as ever.

Far-out, fascinating, fantastic--just plain F-ing good.

There's absolutely no attempt to innovate, but it's not a huge problem when the tunes are as sweetly and simply put together as this. [Jan 2013, p.62]

Over far too quickly, it's another near flawless record from the Manchester trio.

An album of chilly, detached beauty.