Oh No doesn’t quite signal a reinvention for Lanza, but a move towards one end of her capabilities, one which consistently brings excitement, energy and openings for new paths for her to head down.

Tourist In This Town’s strengths are also its weaknesses though. The visceral, in-the-moment recording at times gives the record a life and character that feels charming and personal, but elsewhere feels a little too rushed, and being a little heavy-handed in the use of synths and backing results in sensory overload and slightly jarring instrumental clashes.

His perfectly serviceable croon is not quite strong enough to carry it across 16 long tracks. If only he’d given ‘Lightning People’ to Liam Gallagher, it might well have been the soundtrack of the summer. Moments of greatness are plentiful, but ‘Fever Dreams…’ shines brightest when Marr lets his guitar do the talking.

An swirling, abstract painting of an album, and an eclectic slow burner, Painted Ruins serves more as a fascinating indication of where Grizzly Bear could head next than anything else.

Overgrown demonstrates that for all Blake's myriad talents as a producer he still isn't able to carve a great song out of a simple idea.

Fans of ‘Complete Surrender’’s sonic diversity, too, might find ‘Now That I’m a River’ similarly one-note to ‘One Day All of This Won’t Matter Any More’. It’s a better record, though, primarily because Charles sounds genuinely refreshed.

A planned dalliance, Hot Thoughts reveals its irony: a well-thought rush of blood, a planned frisson. It’s a turn on with limits.

If Wolf Parade have spent six years wondering how they can sing about anything at all, it seems as though they’re still wondering. Just this time the quartet turned the mic on as they pondered.

With the few songs that feature the vocal backing of Condon the fullness that immediately hits the ear makes me realise that introducing another voice or even another medium to the mix would enhance the listening experience of this album by at least 75%.

The intricate layering of warped guitars and echoing vocals is all well and good for the background to summer fun, but for No Joy to be more than this More Faithful relies on these more intimate moments. Although these are sparsely scattered throughout they’re just enough to make More Faithful more than just a half-listened to soundtrack to road trips and festivals but an album with heart, confidence and intimacy.

When they strip things back and leave space for each element to breathe--as on the purely orchestral title track--Open Here can be a joy, a deeply astute pop album that’s also often brimming with fun. While pushing their boundaries as far as they can go though, it sometimes makes for a record that can feel frustratingly cluttered.

‘Blood, Hair and Eyeballs’ is a level, if somewhat uninteresting, addition to the Alkaline Trio lexicon. Fans will find pockets of the band they fell in love with, while less seasoned followers may be better served diving deeper into the back catalogue instead.

The songs are strong--varying from ‘I Just Don’t Understand’’s jazz bar mood-changer to closer ‘New York Kiss’’ emotional farewell--but Spoon can be better than that.

The whole record initially comes off like a collision of crackpot thoughts; abstract lyrics; abstract synthetics; all abstract everything. Eventually Lese Majesty exposes its rigid structure, giving hints of ‘Black Up’ but overall daring to go further and deeper than anything on the debut.

Collaborations here, there and everywhere, for the most part Kaytranada pulls the strings. But it is a work that threatens to find him in the shadows, leaving the spotlight to bigger names.

Aside from the brutal norm its twenty, overwhelming tracks follow, Mutant is also capable of digging up gold.

The material on offer ranges from the piano balladry of ‘The Cruise Room’ to the ‘80s synth pop of ‘Best In Me’ - in other words, every flavour John Grant has to offer. And that’s an exciting prospect on paper, so it’s a shame that the record frequently suffers from songs too long by half.

While the celestial sound-effects sometimes make Saturn’s Pattern sound like the soundtrack to Lost In Space or a retro computer game, generally what you can clearly hear is that Weller is creating music confidently again.

While so many albums today are front-loaded, this one saves many of its treasures for the final stretch, ending on a high with ‘Highland Grace’, an appropriately elegiac closer euphoric horns and vocals.

This is the sound of a songwriter in transition.

Individually the likes of ‘Time Will Be The Only Saviour’, with its creeping strings and weighty sorrow, or the Rizzo-quoting ‘There Are Worse Things I Could Do’, are tender, sad things, but as a whole piece, Yawn can wind up a claustrophobic listen.

As an album, it's quite a varied piece of work, despite never really emerging from its shell.

The majority of the album is not different or progressive enough to be exciting--and it's not enjoyable enough to make up for it.

The lyrics across the course of the record feel less politicised, the characters less personal, resulting in a record that feels both wholly more developed, and ultimately more accessible than the EP it follows.

It’s still immersive music for thinking and reflecting. It might lack it’s ‘Red Eyes’ but this record is filled with enough to satisfy any existing fans.

Although ‘Superstar’ certainly reaches for the stars in its slick production, her wit doesn’t sparkle as strongly, and its theme of an awkward outsider trying to chase success feels a little too close to home.

Although the lyrical themes aren’t necessarily treading new ground--and at times sound feel more 1970s than 2010s--New View is the most self-assured realisation of the Friedberger’s delicately eloquent and intelligent musical talent.

This debut feels far too uncoordinated, un-moderated and incoherent to do more than dazzle and confuse in equal proportions before leaving the listener to make sense of what just happened.