This is an album with ambition; a sonically sweeping piece of work with big themes and big ideas that can overwhelm you. Just let nature take its course.

Just like humanity’s primordial obsession with fire, Sky Swimming is difficult to disengage with.

This is music in its purest, most experimental form. This is a record which doesn’t make sense, because it doesn’t have to.

Old, but new at the same time, the seemingly limited palette of Buoys is single minded and direct. A stunning, if hushed, indirect hit.

It’s only when he tries to amp it up that ‘Chew The Scenery’ falters; ‘Stuck’ might possess a standard freshers indie chorus, but when it aims for Oasis-level swagger, it meets closer to the Gallaghers’ recent solo endeavours than bucket-hatted air-punches. Similarly the euphoria of ‘Yeah!’ misses the mark. Still, there are more than a handful of stellar moments.

This album may declare itself a painting--and an intense one, at that--but there’s a much bigger picture to see here.

Strange Pleasures is an album of cinematic charm and where, with the weight lifted off his shoulders, Hughes has created a journey along a dark motorway that adds light and colour to stand out from the traffic.

A gorgeous, luscious Eels record, sounding every bit as familiar as any of that suggests, the country-tinged guitars, the organs, piano, sprinkling of xylophone and those comfortingly gravelly vocals in which the world's in love.

Like the heady themes on Sun Structures, Temples appear to be a group still ascending to a brighter sphere.

'Time Team' is a hugely rewarding album that delivers rich emotional laden electronic music with a human heart and an impressive debut.

Filled with polyrhythms and squalling synths designed to get people on the dancefloor, it’s sometimes impossible to remain rooted in your seat. The drawback of this focus on the high-energy though, is that it can get a little wearing.

With just about enough sonic variation to keep things interesting, there’s a more pristine, altogether more polished feel to this collection of tracks no doubt the result of an artist who’s getting closer to refining their craft.

Despite opener 'Shape' being a colossal Bjork channelling beauty that comes close to breaking point, the bulk of Interiors is restless but unassuming.

With every listen there’s something else to hear, something new to discover, and something different to feel.

Channelling zeitgeisty pop is by no means always a bad thing; but when omitting the earwormy choruses it needs - and removing your own personality in the process, it’s only ever going to fall a bit limp.

Himalyan is loud, raucous, massive amounts of fun and it has style, swagger and teeth.

Beyond the flute solos and mind-blowing euphemisms, there’s rich invention behind This Is All Yours.

This album should plant El Khatib as someone to keep a close watch on. For now though, there’s still room for him to grow--another trip to the desert awaits.

A rare collection of songs that succeeds in both evoking the ethereal and forcing you to reach for the volume button.

It’s a sleek collection of pop gems that will live long in the memory.

‘The Silver Cord’ is often magnificent and always supremely fun.

After a debut that spent much of its time slinking like crawlers out in the shadows, it’s intriguing--if slightly disconcerting--to see Purity Ring in a warmer light.

Our House on the Hill' is at least a welcome addition to their lexicon; its 50s-tinged 'woah-oh' backing vocals and neo-retro chord changes just wistful enough.

Good Grief marks an important next step in the realisation of their sassy pop character.

Perhaps this a record that works better under the summer sun, but right now Ride Your Heart doesn’t sound much more than a showcase for surfy style and lo-fi charm.

Nestled in these adrenalised, highly evolved songs are bright pop hooks, showing that other artists could compete with Doldrums, but they wouldn’t be able to keep up.

Ultimately, These Walls Of Mine is too incoherent and disparate in style to merit any amount of satisfaction.

An album which blurs the line between retro and futuristic techno, yet always with an analogue soul.

What is particularly impressive about the EP is its diversity, without diversion.

Phoned-in and simplistic, it’s hard to decipher when one track ends and another begins.

Hung At Heart is not a particularly forward-thinking album with all of its 15 songs dealing in homespun 60s grooves, but this is a largely irrelevant quibble when the songs are this good.

This is as tropical and kaleidoscopic as Friendly Fires have ever been. It’s akin to gobbling an entire pack of Fruit Pastilles; colourful, maybe a little sickly, but you sure as hell want to experience it again.

There's enough variances in the sound, with the tracklisting set up in such as way that you notice the changes in style, to make sure you pay attention to every minute.

Reinvigorated after a so-so initial comeback in 2012, and with their notorious fire burning once again, ‘in•ter a•li•a’ sees At The Drive In returning with an album that’s worthy of standing shoulder to shoulder alongside their revered back catalogue.

With Hold On To Your Heart the trio have crafted another bold and brilliant album which soars higher than ever before.

As far as debuts go, the Sydney trio have made a solid first step here. They’ve got half the job worked out in spades. Now, they just need to work on making it memorable.

These songs [The Trapper and the Furrier, Tornadoland, and Obsolete] are, ironically, more cinematic than anything found on her last album ‘What We Saw From The Cheap Seats,’ and that sense of drama helps make Remember Us To Life a return to form.

While missing the flecks of pop brilliance and cloying hooks that made 2017 Rex so endearing, the record’s release in the genesis of a twee renaissance is near-perfect timing.

It is fair to say that the album is missing hooks; it is a difficult listen and the tracks’ sparseness renders them similar. But, when the sound is so spine-tinglingly moving, that’s not too much of a problem.

Even if you weren't a fan of their last couple [of albums], there's definitely going to be something for you here. As soon as the synth kicks in for opener 'The Theory Of Relativity', you know you're in for a treat.

The sound of an artist creatively re-energised, this is a revelation in all senses of the word.

There’s nothing particularly new here from Fred bar minor switches into previously unexplored electronic styles, but it still boasts some of his best tracks yet.

It’s an accomplished rock record that’s a very welcome addition to the band’s enduring history.

15 years in and with no sign of slowing or calming down, Kasabian don’t have to prove anything anymore. If you’re not on board, it’s frankly your loss.

‘World Wide Pop’ is a joyously over-the-top explosion of audio technicolor, where the group embrace their oddities and eccentricities.

The album is most interesting when it eschews from the guidelines.

Unfortunately, although that slight detachment feels pretty good in the midst of listening, much like tucking into an ice cream cone with more than a few sprinkles, you might get brain freeze trying to recall some of the tunes afterwards.

The supergroup’s self-titled record might feature the dirty rock of the former and the latter’s penchant for synth-led tangents, but by each party’s style rubbing off on the other, they’ve also sanded them down.

Yeasayer’s album is a brilliant, breathless, great big bundle of weird. It’s also their most innovative record to date.

Earth might be musically faultless, but it lacks the bite of his day job.

It may not have the global appeal of his OF stable mate’s Channel Orange, but it is certainly his most accessible and enjoyable.

Lantern is this duality between experimental and easily-grasped embodied. Unsurprisingly, it is the more left-field elements to the production that are the most intriguing.

You'll either love it or hate it but, ignore the buzz, take it on it's own merits, and you might very well be rewarded.

Know It All isn’t perfect, but it’d be a challenge not to fall for even just some its charms.

Fans might see this as a boon - Bainbridge picking up from where they left off before their self-imposed hiatus. To others, it may sound like a missed opportunity to establish themselves as a more cutting-edge artist.

Granted, his sixth effort is as bonkers and creative as ever, but it could be that less really is more.

‘Feel Life’ and ‘Steady’ resolve this darkness, both euphoric and knowing - and beautiful sonically - while ‘Blood Moon’ addresses feeling disappointed in yourself, and what you need to do to push through and make things right. ‘When We Stay Alive’ is emotionally raw, elegantly presented and at many parts a real tear-jerker. Wonderful stuff.

'Dry Land Is Not A Myth' is a mixed bag. Church's high-pitched voice could prove to be a bit marmite, as could the songs on here without much focus. Clocking in a couple minutes over a half-hour though, it's short enough to deserve at least one spin this summer.

Their sound may have matured, and may be more accustomed to a laconic calmness, but Damage and Joy still burns with purpose and when it throws its punches it lands them with ease.

All too often Welcome The Worms lacks the bite that’d make it Very Good Indeed

Semicircle won’t seem like a giant leap for the band but is yet another upbeat, buoyant addition to their canon, injected with an even greater sense of community spirit.

there is an extremely satisfying sense of fun throughout Island Fire (despite the dark content) and Ray is very much in on the joke.

It might take more than one or two listens to really appreciate it, but it's worth your time.

If we're honest, it doesn't start well, 'Be My Girl' is easily one of the worst tracks on here. But things do pick up.

Krauss is on delicious vocal form throughout, sounding both as fierce and feminine as ever, matching cutting lyrics with sounds so girlish they almost risk being cutesy.

The result is a composed collection of tracks.

This is a record replete with droning psychedelia, an infectious energy and a sinister, carnivalesque feel.

‘Jaded’ undoubtedly brings with it a glimmer of hope in an album that ultimately comes up short in delivering the fusion of intensity and melody that has served GRMLN so well before.

There’s a real sense of optimism and summer to the record.

Cameron may drench his songs in luscious, sweeping strings, but this is more akin to a gritty neo-noir thriller with numerous femme fatales haunting him at every turn.

Invitation to Her’s is an occasionally jarring listen, thanks to its stylistic restlessness, but there’s enough substance behind the silliness to leave you feeling they’re following through on their early prom

While it occasionally feels lacking in the kind of explosive energy that made the band such an impact in the late ‘80s, it still captures the spirit of Pixies in a way that’s extremely satisfying.

For while standout ‘These Depopulate Hours’ fizzes with what has made the Glasgow group so inviting in the past - a bubbling menace underpinning everything thanks to a screaming synth - and ‘What Makes You A Man’ employs curious sounds to back its ‘80s influences, it’s not matched by what’s found elsewhere.

Expectations [are] built by her collaborators - who aided artists like Dua and Kylie in carving revered pop niches - weigh detrimentally on the record: it doesn’t push itself nearly as far. Yet, undeniably, it’s a dependable, invigorating debut.

Anything In Return is an album applicable to plenty of palettes.

No, ‘Think Later’ doesn’t come close to reinventing the wheel (or pop), but it does drench itself within a pop maximalism full of fuel, energy and modernity.

There's so much to like about Mirrors The Sky that could've been loved instead.

This album is, in reality, the sound of perfectionists giving into instinct. And once they shun exactitude and all its side effects, they emerge with a dazzling debut.

The Altar is very close to being a razor-sharp pop blueprint.

It stands before you with the reverence of a cathedral and leaves you with a lasting sense of piety and clarity.

It's easy to see from this record just why Hugo Manuel is in such demand and his debut, as Chad Valley will provide a significant springboard to ever more exciting climbs.

It’s immediate and hard-hitting in the same way as blues rock.

Uninspiring, unexciting, largely forgettable--this is nothing more than Kings of Leon by numbers.

For the most part, this is a record about chasing a specific kind of pop aesthetic instead, which largely comes at the detriment of any kind of real connection.

It doesn't try too hard to be cool or rock climb your intellect but makes you smile, dance and sing away to yourself in places you shouldn't.

Chunky, neatly devised and deeply satisfying--this is the sound of staring into a black winter puddle while a nearby bird squirts a veneer of soothing melody onto proceedings.

Melancholy, meticulous and achingly grand, it extends his artistic narrative in resplendent form.

Fantastically glossy and mystical.

An unpredictable but spectacular ride through pop, rock and everything in between, it’s hard not to bowled over by Urie’s efforts yet again.

This is a good start but, after losing half of their line up, you get the feeling Jonquil need to add a bit more character, and a bit more bite, into their new pop noise.

It's a bold step, and one that can't quite sustain itself but Blood Speaks is a force of nature, and in more senses than one.

There’s palpable relief when ‘Sugar’ gets proceedings underway and the thinking is all; 'Yes, Shout Out Louds, yes, this is how you start a record'--no dilly, precious little dally, instead wham-bam-slam straight into this behemoth of a pop tune.

It’s as if Haim are pulling apart the production strands of their debut, and pitting them against one another. For majority of the time it works, on a surprisingly low-key second album that’s worth spending some time (or rather, Haim?) with.

Thank You for Today marks the stirring opening of a new chapter in this band’s already storied history.

On Jaded & Faded, Cerebral Ballzy sound more visceral and raw than ever before--they’ve ditched the radio-ready gleam, the whole thing sounds recorded in an abandoned crack den on a half-broken tape player, and they’re all the better because of it.

It's a short and sweet affair, clocking in at just over half an hour, but Splashh don't need any longer than that to make their stamp.

While we’ve not heard Nick’s vocals out front before, those frantic fretwork and well-trodden chord changes work like an aural comfort blanket. Yet this is no carbon-copy.

Following two discouraging albums, Need Your Light represents another stumble in the New Yorkers’ career. A disappointment.