It’s this open-heartedness that shines through Any Shape You Take. There may be death, depression, heartbreak, sex, screams and swearing throughout, but they are momentary – what remains is De Souza’s tenderness and truthfulness.

Moffat’s storytelling is utterly masterful throughout, tragic case studies abounding.

Another excellent sort-of-post-dubstep EP from a relative unknown making use of thickly nocturnal synths with distant and obscured vocal samples.

Though it may not be treated as an important album in the broader scope of music, it is an important album for Man Man, and one that is likely to age gracefully, just as Man Man appear to be doing.

While the warm emotionality and elegant melodicism of BREACH should earn her legions of fans, it’s the little snippets of hard-to-admit truth that are going to come to mean the most to people. It’s these moments that set her apart, and are as sure a sign as any that Fenne Lily is going to grow into an even more exciting and important artist in the years to come.

Sour Cherry Bell is an album that has these clear influences, yet morphs itself into aural palettes that transcend such comparisons. A rich body of work, the lush layers of sound presented make for a rewarding experience again and again.

Despite examining so many thorny questions pertaining to coming of age and the human condition, Big Ugly doesn’t sound half as heavy as one might expect. The fuzzy, twangy guitars and buoyant drumming provide a cushion for harsh truths, and Dowdy renders his characters in warm, light tones – even when their environment is anything but.

The band has only strengthened their propensity for catchy, melodic pop hooks, and they come one after the other like a best-of Lite-FM programming block.

This is him using collective dialogue – with a large cast of varied characters – to have fun. And it’s infectious.

They’ve expanded their scope: synths creep in, melodies swell, and the hooks land so big they feel like catharsis stumbled into, punchy like the loud headers on a brochure for a new treatment center — you know, the one that’ll finally do the trick this time.

While these influences [Nick Drake and Ella Fitzgerald] are certainly present, A Common Turn is undeniably and entirely Savage’s own; these are her trials and confessions, and it’s a stroke of great bravery and generosity for her to have released them in this enrapturing manner.

Dadub have crafted an LP with depth and subtle yet grand-scale dimension, adding another excellent release to the Stroboscopic Artefacts canon.

Call Me If You Get Lost finds Tyler freer than he was on IGOR. He’s managed to combine talents in front of and behind the mic, while amalgamating the serious personalities he used prior with the humor that trademarked his early work. He’s displaying lessons learned here.

It’s a seamless and natural progression from when the band released squeaky-clean interpretations of their beloved 2020 album Brave Faces Everyone, just last year on Brave Faces Etc. But they’ve buckled down, tightened things up, and now observe sheen and a bit of grit with an impressive balance.

World’s Gone Wrong extends Williams’ fertile run, infused with the aesthetic adventurousness and undiluted honesty that have characterized her work for over four decades.

The new directions that they have managed to find on No Color are certainly interesting to explore for listeners.

Rarely does music feel this much like a celebration, and though it might not get to you emotionally, that doesn't mean you can't sing along.

[It offers] up some of the most melodramatic songs Los Campesinos! have recorded to date.

Alpers' maintains her sense of individuality in her music while taking her sound to a whole new level. Listeners can rest assured that this album will not disappoint.

For an album called Carnage, on the surface it appears to have none, but the inner turmoil of Nick Cave’s psyche is full of it. He fantasizes about long lost loves, but also about shooting you in the fucking face, and it’s this toying with our emotions makes Carnage one of Cave’s most maddeningly beautiful records.

Guitars jangle, piano keys ripple like they've been recorded from a jaunty saloon session while vocals harmonise and lift the spirit of everything around.

The main difference between Stranger in the Alps and Punisher is simply maturation of her writing.

Marissa Nadler is the sort of folk album that you'll be returning to simply because it is so varied.

Those who weren't sold on Gillis' act before aren't going to change their minds, but his records are consistently great, and All Day is no exception.

The height of popularity for this music may have come in the first half of the last decade when bands like fellow British trios Feeder and Muse were at their peak, but music this enjoyable never becomes unpopular, especially when it's done this well.

They’ve made the brave decision to remember what it’s like to feel and to breathe again, and it can all be heard in the stirring vibrations of Margolin’s words and voice.

There’s a depth and sensual nuance to the album that most of her contemporaries lack.

In The Earth Again holds the extremes of their sounds simultaneously. It allows Pedigo to channel his craft into something more sinister and evocative, while Chat Pile indulge in sample and tape manipulation, exploring a tenderness and depth of sincerity surpassing that of previous albums.