Califone describe themselves as experimental, which can be a byword for ‘pass on by’ to the listener. However, All My Friends Are Funeral Singers is one of the most perfect ‘albums’ I have heard in an age. Full of subtlety, layered acoustic perfection, it is as if Beck had suddenly both rediscovered his musical genius and mixed it with Elbow’s more anthemic moments. Having spent 20 minutes pressing ‘repeat’ on Krill, you may well go back to Radiohead-like opener Giving Away The Bride, or the acoustic-Nirvana-like Polish Girls. All My Friends is the band’s sixth ‘song-based’ album, and it is, by some margin their best – topping even the underrated Roots and Crowns. It has more songs, more individual songs that could be taken out of the album and still work as single gems. It may seem overblown to describe an album as ‘art’ these days, but this is an album where time only deepens the nuances and the attractiveness – lead man Tim Rutili is an artist and this is his greatest work - a deserved 10...

ACE rating 10/10

Rather than being genre-less, The Mumlers, a San Jose band on their second album, have made an album that straddles New Orleans jazz, New York indie, 60s pop (Beatles, Kinks) and filtered it all through a Doors-like vibe. If that sounds like a modernised Tom Waits to you, you’d be right, although the music here is way more accessible than most of Waits’ canon. Like The Walkmen or Gomez, The Mumlers are entirely comfortable to reach back more than 30 to 40 years for their influences and instrumentation – the brass componentry is high, and delicious, combined with nicely cheesy funked up organ. Front man Will Sprott is a wonderfully lazy delight – his voice perfectly complements this wonderful collage. You’ll get 70s cop shows, 60s film soundtracks – all the way to noughties indie. Don’t Throw Me Away will be one of the more unusual albums in your collection, but there is no sense that this was done artfully or archly – it is a beautifully considered masterpiece.

ACE rating 8/10

The Heavy sound like they’re aiming at providing a Quentin Tarantino soundtrack all by themselves. With a quote like “If you value your sanity don't go in the house” to open up the album, leading into the riff-heavy fun-fest Oh No Not You Again, The Heavy are intent on playing good time garage rock mixed with the Munsters and some James Brown funk – the kind of music that Lenny Kravitz wishes he still made. Mixed by Jim Abiss (famed for work with Arctic Monkeys and Kasabian), there is a deft touch on the thickly great riffs and thickly laid-on funk. There is no doubt that they haven’t managed to make a whole album of songs as great as that opener, but they came damned close – and, in fact set their own standard ridiculously high. The House That Dirt Built is atmospherically served up with the kind of delicious sludge that the Mooney Suzuki make, but with some great songs. And, just when you thought, ten songs in, that you have the measure of this band, they throw in a rather decent love song to finish the album.

ACE rating 8/10