In throwing his emotional locker wide open, Frank Ocean has made a tender, engrossing classic.

This majestic medley of eight 'exercises' is a fine display of creativity, where morphing piano loops sound like the modern classical of Philip Glass honed into a structured formula.

'Major' is a more refined second effort, but one that still holds true to the band's promise of back-to-back hooks.

Their LP betrays nothing other than attention to detail, enviable knowledge of their musical history and the ability to chisel hunks of belligerent punk that could revitalise the genre.

It's a record that effortlessly juxtaposes chopped up electronics and ghostly effects with James' supersweet voice to create eleven strange but simple pleasures.

'Never' walks a fine line between experimental and exasperating.

Grand and grizzling, 'Gossamer' begs for adoration, but too often leaves an uncomfortably bittersweet aftertaste.

A manic experiment that bodes well for album two.

A jubilant collection.

It's pretty f***ing awesome.

"Milk Maid are great!" Shout it from a rooftop.

For a Tarot-themed rock album made by an immortal megalomaniac, it's actually OK. Especially the loud bits.

DIIV exist in the hazy, blissful end of the shoegaze spectrum, where every day is a stoned slice of summer.

If you like the idea of blog occupants such as Washed Out and Neon Indian but want to take the hazy filter off their Instagram souls, then 'Gone' could be for you.

[Unsound] is as rough, ragged and wracked as they've ever been, the likes of 'Dust Devil' and '7's' pushing needles thoroughly into the red.

It's muggy and consuming in the way that using 96 effects pedals at once will be, but there's a vital sweetness that shines through.

Despite not reaching for particularly new ground, Confess still manages to excite.

It's a head-swirling selection of the swankiest electro, techno and house, plus silky soul from Blood Orange, geo-political pop from Condry Ziqubu and howlin' funk from Gospel Comforters.

A band so capable shouldn't have settled for a debut as average as this.

Occasional cringe-inducing lyrics aside, 'Dry Land Is Not A Myth' gets everything bang on.

A gentle collection, evocative of a transitional time.

This sticky mess is his best yet.

Against all odds, 'Some Nights' is a hoot: huge-sounding, packed with tunes and not lacking in humour.

Irrespective of genre or decade, 'Rispah' is an astonishing tsunami of emotion which above all, makes you feel alive.

Perfect imperfection.

Delightfully creepy.

A sweet, sad record full of wide-eyed wonder and a charming, youthful naivety.

Two Wounded Birds' pains make for mighty pleasurable listening.