The album still comprises some truly enchanting touches that could only have come from him, and often they appear when working around a vocalist. These pop turns envision a world where radio hits have a bit more depth and experimentation, and if Lopatin’s output can continue to minutely steer mainstream music that way, then so much the better.

Burst Apart is full of wonderful little surprises like this, that add up to two big ones: that The Antlers didn't try to follow up Hospice by repeating themselves, and nevertheless, that they have delivered a more than worthy successor.

Here, Lopatin excels at what he’s been doing since his first release as Oneohtrix Point Never, and what first brought us to him: drawing feeling out of the digital realm, instead of just channeling it.

Push the Sky Away has the ability to move without raising its voice above a whisper.

Mike Kinsella has made not only one of his sincerest works to date, but also one of the most brutally honest albums of the year.

Luminol’s focused stylistics and singular aesthetic succeed overall, yielding a distinctly cohesive and compelling project while further establishing Johnston’s already recognizable brand.

Artistically, well, it skirts as close (and intelligently) to blasphemy as a 21st century project could – and Portrayal of Guilt indulge in this act with glee and artistic sensitivity. That it may remain a ‘minor’ work in their discography seems unjust, but then anything that blossoms from the seeds laid here will likely be even more garish, more haunted, more graceful than this black mass.

It’s an album that holds power found rarely these days – up there with Joy Division’s Closer in terms of transgressing the boundary between the macabre and ethereal, uniting music to dance to with spiritual experience, marking the twilight divide of utopia and dystopia.

Their latest LP, Christfucker, is a further and consummate refinement, resulting in a milestone of seamless eclecticism and uncompromising savagery.

Even without the context of her back catalog, these songs are strong in their own right.

Though academic in its tone, and impenetrable at points due to it's uncompromising focus on experimentation, Movement looks inward, probing the possibility of humanity even through an album centered on electronic instrumentation

There are echoes of the Spice Girls, Le Tigre, The Ting Tings, Kero Kero Bonito, and country-mates The Presets here, but despite its musical and stylistic nods to other acts, it still feels fresh – which is mostly down to the relentless delivery. But even at a respectable 39 minutes, it still loses steam; any album with this much energy would.

This is frivolous music best enjoyed as such. The trick to Sofi Tukker’s success is not to take them too seriously, even when they do so themselves.

It’s fun, it’s furious, and just about anyone should be able to appreciate that.

Moms is perfect evidence that Menomena are still more than capable of holding their own.

It may not reach the same creative highs or artistic wholeness of their previous releases, but in its own right, it can be just as enjoyable.

This album is exciting and promising: Tech N9ne seems to be filling his growing shoes gracefully.

For better or worse, Chemtrails Over The Country Club is 100% a Lana Del Rey record that fits quaintly into her discography. Anyone following her up to this point shouldn’t bat an eye at how sharp of a left turn this is compared to her previous album. She’s absurdly contrived, but the allure is far too captivating to look away.

The guest list occasionally weighs the project down. “Sweet Nuthins”, featuring Leon Thomas, suffers from a cluttered mix that distracts from a vocal performance that deserved more space. But whenever the album threatens to capsize under its own ambition, Kehlani rights the ship by isolating their voice.

Even if it isn’t the notable stylistic statement that McCartney II was, it still feels poignant, and yes: surprisingly youthful.

Allelujah! seems more immediate and more organic, but instead of feeling blown away by it's unreachable drama and grandeur, with a decade of age behind us and the band, it feels inhabitable in a way Godspeed never has before.

These songs are probably Jurado's most ambitious portraits yet in terms of ideas and eclecticism.

Barbarism is much further from the sound of a Priests record than expected, and it’s further proof that the Greer isn’t interested in repeating the past over and over again.

He achieves a lot with a little. He never gives us filler. He continues to innovate. He has provided us with a great album, one that is a sure sign his velocity has not been slowed.

Both in its challenging nature and its status as an emblem of everything that the Motion Sickness of Time Travel project has dealt in to date, it functions, without a doubt, as Evans most accomplished release of her career and one of the more accomplished ambient albums in recent memory.

There’s so much talent and story hidden behind the mask, but this album isn’t Orville Peck at his truest.

This is a record that feels whole and woven with direction and intent. It may disappoint some who desire the disjointed immediacy of Pain Olympics, but don’t discount Tough Baby just because of its lack of single-worthy material. Give it time to allow its message of hope and empathy amidst disarray to take hold.

The True Story of Bananagun is as exciting and addictive as debut albums come, appropriately soundtracking a much-needed hope in the future of the genre while brightening up early summer in the northern hemisphere.