This debut's sophistication might mean Jessie slinks to the forefront rather than shoving her way to the top, but however long it takes, Devotion marks a new chapter in this future-pop superstar's journey.

Don't be fooled by the benign title of James Yorkston's latest album--the songs have some real bite to them, both lyrically and sonically.

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.

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.

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 gentle collection, evocative of a transitional time.

This sticky mess is his best yet.

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.

A loveable pop debut.

Although it doesn't stray hugely from the meandering blueprint of last year's '936', 'Lucifer' throbs with warmth, occupying a dreamy hinterland beyond Big Youth and Beach House.

At times, without the visual aids of the stage production, it whips from cohesive to confusing but, for the most part, 'Dr Dee' is a boundary-pushing triumph.

Traps shakes with stoned-in-a-basement riffs and sarcasm.