[In Our Heads] is another joyous triumph.

It may seem strange to get so excited about a record of vocal loops, but Barwick continually proves that truism that art isn't about elements but what you make of them--and this latest album is simply sublime.

Baird has produced a record that you know deserves to be heard, yet want to keep all to yourself.

Pixx has created a debut record that shows her to be a fascinating prospect, and though significant turmoil informed the record, the pay-off is equally as great.

Packed with wit, super-sharp song-writing, and charged with Diet Cig’s now-distinctive personality, Swear I’m Good At This should probably be called ‘Swear I’m Fucking Ace At This’ instead for higher accuracy levels.

It’s a strange mixture of comfort and malaise, but it’s probably the most honest document of the past eighteen months, too.

I Used To Spend So Much Time Alone isn’t as callow as previous Chastity Belt records, and intentionally so, fully digging up the sadness that always lay ever-dormant beneath their tinny-swigging chaos, and leaving behind biting mockery for something that feels vaguer, and also more universal.

The song structures are comparatively comprehensible, and ultimately, the whole process would be somewhat superfluous if the duo weren’t capable of creating something worthwhile to sonically experience.

It’s still a work that’s defined by its own dynamism. Anyone following these guys from the start won’t have doubted their capabilities, but that doesn’t stop A Dream Outside from dwarfing expectations.

Far from a disaster, Ben Khan’s long-awaited debut is a necessary one, feeling like a cleansing of the palate.

‘Expired Candy’ is a whole lot more fun than its sour, stale name might suggest.

The soundscapes on ‘The Loneliest Time’ may not be as grandiose, or as sugar-coated as we’re used to from her, but that doesn’t mean the feelings aren’t still a lot. ‘The Loneliest Time’ is definitely Carly’s most introspective album.

As usual, there’s probably a few too many ideas here and the band trip up on them occasionally--but if they didn’t, it wouldn’t be much of a Deerhoof record.

Falling somewhere between Poliça with an Americana tinge and a less naff Fiona Apple, the likes of ‘Inner Lover’ and ‘This Time’ are cerebral cornerstones that hold up a record characterised by evident catharsis. One for when you’re feeling reflective.

It might well be his most musically bold but thoughtful album to date, yet another stage in Obaro Ejimiwe’s fascinating evolution.

Here and Nowhere Else is relentless in the best possible way.

It’s all very here and now.

In less capable hands, this record might come across as an weighty topic checklist. Sad13, however, doesn’t just raise these discussions, she presents them as a bundle of sexy, glitter-soaked fun.

What With Light And With Love lacks in surprises, it more than makes up for with quality.

More than one kitchen sink has been proudly gafer-taped to their musical fun bus; every idea--however half-formed--integrated with complete confidence. Delivered with the swagger of someone who’s just half-inched Joseph’s Technicolor Dreamcoat, it works spectacularly.

Cerulean Salt represents an outstanding example of that talent blossoming into one of US indie’s most vital and compelling voices.

This is an album then of irresistible forward momentum; brutal and gentle, alien and human.

An intelligent and, most importantly, a cathartic album it allows Ghostpoet to shed his worries in the most eloquent and interesting ways.

Omar Apollo inspires, and his competence as a vocalist is unmistakable on ‘Ivory’. Conflating his electro-pop tendencies with the occasional stride of a campfire guitar, he turns everything he touches to glistening radio gold.

By embracing all sides of his 50 years in the game, ‘Every Loser’ is Iggy throwing out the late-career rulebook and having a whole bunch of fun. Which is, of course, what made him so brilliant in the first place.

Where things ought to be reduced and given more purpose, they instead stampede into goodness-knows-where. Ambition doesn’t always equal perfection. Rock operas have their place, but this isn’t the pick of the bunch.

There are just a few too many of these aggressive, tumultuous ballads and the result is each one loses some of its power every time another crashes into being. Moments where LUH lose their way are compensated for by the flashes of brilliance littered throughout.

From the wonky stomp of ‘Double Denim Hop’, through the ballsy vocals of ‘Stockholm City Rock’ to the unashamedly massive riffs of recent single ‘Hollywood Actors’, frontman Tom Rees doubles down on the things that clearly make him tick.