If you think you’ve heard this album before, don’t worry, you’re not losing your mind. Bits of Beck’s brand new Colors have been trickling out for years. “Dreams” landed as a single way back in 2015, followed by “Wow” one year later.

Having started in nascent form at the beginning of the millennium, it’s safe to say Stars are old hands at this whole indie pop thing by now. The Canadian five-piece is onto its eighth full-length, and if There Is No Love in Fluorescent Light is a long way from setting anything on fire, never mind matching peak Stars Set Yourself on Fire, it’s a comfortingly pleasant experience.

If you’ve followed Annie Clark’s musical project St. Vincent at all, you know that her albums can be somewhat of a rollercoaster ride with peaks and valleys not only in time signatures and tempos but in genres and styles.

The long-awaited return from London’s King Krule is something to behold. Anyone who has spent time living in London, walking its littered estates, will recognise that The Ooz drips with the concrete cynicism the city breeds.

A perfect marriage of sound and substance, Lotta Sea Lice finds two of indie rock’s most vibrant and eclectic singer/songwriters sharing the spotlight for a brilliant joint LP. Courtney Barnett and Kurt Vile have long been celebrated for their introspective, journalistic songwriting, acting as voyeurs into the everyday life of the ordinary human.

Angel Deradoorian’s latest solo release, the six-song mini-album Eternal Recurrence, feels like a sonic exercise. In a way, the EP is a series of six meditative song cycles, minimal compositions that explore darker (and narrower) textures than her previous solo album, 2015’s The Expanding Flower Planet.

Tamara Lindeman’s decision to make the latest Weather Station album a self-titled one speaks volumes about the musical material within.

Every Noah Gundersen release is a twisted rag, an artist wrung out musically and emotionally over a dozen or so tracks. White Noise, Gundersen’s third studio LP, follows suit with cultural critiques, personal confessions, and spiritual reflections that musically build on the atmospheric indie pop/rock of Carry the Ghost.

It seems as though London-based art pop collective Flotation Toy Warning have been in a state of musical homeostasis for a while. It’s been 12 years since their brilliant debut and the music on their new album, The Machine That Made Us, sees them treading familiar waters.