Suede deserve some credit for being one of the few reunited bands to actually risk their reputation by recording a new album and whilst there is nothing on 'Bloodsports' as gloriously epic as 'Stay Together' or as bat-shit crazy as 'Introducing The Band', it should be viewed as a partial success.

His outlook on the world is no happier than it was before, but the lack of a bigger band brings out a fresher sound in the Destroyer canon. It loses some energy in that regard, especially compared to the magnificent ‘Kaputt’, but it does show that, with 13 albums under his belt, Bejar still has plenty to say and even more fantastical ways to say it.

That’s definitely not to say that the more languorous tracks don’t have their beautiful moments, with the likes of ‘Lonely Blue’ and ‘Sublunary’ providing an emotional apex to the album. As it draws on though, it gets easier to think that a bit of brutality on the cutting room floor might only have been of benefit to The Ooz.

Seven albums in, and with a formula that’s kept its core elements largely the same, it’s largely Beach House by-numbers, but the pair have a gravitational pull that looks like it will never run dry.

This is an album that sounds like it could've been recorded at any point in the last thirty-odd years.

Reasons To Believe is a worthy, if overtly reverent, addition to the steady stream of Hardin covers.... But some of these covers are overtly reverent because they fail to acknowledge this schism in the dark soul of the man.

The Incessant marks a turning point, as Meat Wave tackle their demons head on.

A lot of the time Warp & Weft is just very slow, and whilst there are a couple of earworms to be turned up here and there, it's mostly pretty stodgy.

They’re untouchable in one sense, but they don’t look to be building on more than solid foundations. Threading together moments of true beauty is a nagging sense that there’s so much of this parallel universe they’ve yet to explore.

If kept short and sweet, Temple would have made a charmingly laconic record that blossomed in unconventionality, yet sadly here is muddled in his expansive means.

While All My DemonS is a listen that’s at times varied, interesting and progressive, any connections made here are purely at surface level.

There’s enough for fans to enjoy across ‘Lifeforms’, but it is not as lofty as it perhaps thinks itself to be.

Corridor evidently have ambitious eyes set on the grand and cinematic. The beautifully eerie closing ambient moments to ‘Goldie’, or the theatrical prettiness of ‘Milan’ convey a band of sophisticated vision, but certain reaches for the epic, such as the stodgy closer, ‘Bang’, suffer for their principals, sounding like half-baked version of Grizzly Bear. Often, it’s hard not to think that there’s something missing.

It just falls short of completely engulfing your interest and really exposing itself as anything completely fresh and inspiring. It’s pretty in places, but you’re left wishing that it was truly beautiful.

Kirk's irresistible vocals lend the album all the quality it needs, and their lighter touches and some inspired choices really add depth to the monochromatic and claustrophobic formula.

Club Meds is precise, mature and brooding, and despite the tendency to layer noises and experiment--most notably on the largely forgettable ‘War Spoils’--is at its best when closer to Mangan’s folk-based home.

There’s little here that will convert Dinosaur Jr sceptics. But for those who enjoy their nostalgic licks, Give A Glimpse of What Yer Not is a pretty satisfying addition to their back-catalogue.

The beefing up of Girlpool’s sound on Powerplant works marvellously in parts, but at points serves to dilute the individuality the pair presented on their debut.

It’s not an immediate album, but give a little time for the scattershot approach to sink in and moments of genius gradually reveal themselves.

Gaz’s third solo offering continues to find him moving into his next phase with real class.

It’s not a bad record, but it’s not quite there.

The band balance loud and quiet better than ever on LP5, with the one-two of ‘The Maze’ and first single ‘The Gold’ that opens the record the perfect example. ‘The Alien’, meanwhile, is fiddly and intriguing, showing that A Black Mile To The Surface could transport the band to an entirely new world.

Teen Suicide’s final act is nigh-on impossible to categorise or fully digest, and its nature and length makes it at the same time a difficult listen, but one that brings rewards of all different kinds across its running length.

There’s still plenty to recommend here, but you can’t help but feel that Neon Indian have a top-drawer electro pop record in them, if only they can trim the fat accordingly.

Musically the album sees Eno experimenting with three-dimensional recording techniques, creating a sound that’s frequently panoramic and dislocating.

While Japandroids have always walked a tightrope between classic rock and straight-up punk, Near To The Wild Heart Of Life finds their footing wobbling for the first time.

While unpredictability is certainly part of Deerhoof’s charm, and the aim of The Magic was to take listeners out of their comfort zone, the erratics can feel contrived and its off-kilter aesthetics too disparate for it to ever really take hold.

This isn’t the best or the bravest music of her career, but Harvey continues to pave new ground. This time, she takes that responsibility very literally, exploring new places and inviting listeners into her strange universe.