Tim Jonze

This melancholic approach – serious themes, stoned demeanour – seems a smart way to reposition himself.

As an art experiment, From Deewee ... is impressive: you would never guess the precise Kraftwerkian twinkles of Conditions of a Shared Belief were recorded without painstaking layering. But the songs themselves can fail to grab you as the whole thing whizzes seamlessly by.

There’s plenty more fooling around to be found on Big Baby D.R.A.M. – not least a duet with Erykah Badu about Wi-Fi connections – but the Virginia rapper’s playfulness is frequently channelled through his talent for crafting delightfully weird pop.

Here is rarely less than lovely and boasts plentiful songs – most notably The Darkest Part of the Night and The First Sight, with their subtle orchestral underpinnings – that suggest we’ll always be glad to be reacquainted with them.

Endless feels like an artistic statement before a pop album, even if it’s ultimately an impressive merging of the two.

Bailey Rae’s adoration of classic soul can be both a blessing and a curse.

It lacks the bigger pop moments of their last two albums, Bloom and Teen Dream, yet by paring down the drums and allowing themselves to play more quietly, the Baltimore duo somehow increase their impressive ability to sound like they’re whispering each song directly into your eardrum.

For every decent chorus, there is a moment where Moroder falls victim to his own vast influence, and the likes of "Don’t Let Go" and "Tempted" feel like generic chart pop you’ve heard before – probably not the kind of deja vu he was after.

At times, as on Free, there’s a danger of things crossing into the formulaic big-pop sound the Mumfords have spread through the charts. But more often, these songs – written with Passion Pit’s Michael Angelakos among others – are imbued with enough subtle strangeness to remain beguiling.

The touchstones here, such as Dusty in Memphis, are all records that revel in a particular kind of musicality, yet this is a record that never feels retro, just timeless.

Tracks such as My Gun are undeniable bangers, while the lyrics can be smart, especially on Like Em Young, which takes a repellent pop trope and turns it neatly on its head.

A series of precision-tooled pop songs constructed with the help of some top-level mechanics.

The Horrors may need to shake up their sound more radically next time, but Luminous still sounds light years ahead of the current guitar-band pack.