Fruit Bats come up with one of slow-burning, slowly-evolving albums that should keep people locked in through the long, hot and fragrant summer.

While I personally prefer GUTS, it’s hard to argue against you seem pretty sad for a girl so in love being her most accomplished project so far.

Given how a recorded collaboration between Johnson, Kohl, and Stewart was inevitable at some point, it’s great that there’s little disappointment to be found. The inevitable might sound as expected, but that’s no bad thing with artists with such intriguing talents.

Despite its problems, Magazine serves as a rallying call, a war cry to rouse the dumbed-down spirit.

The piano on “A Toast” is the sound of someone who has stopped trying to convince the room. The rest of the record is the sound of someone who has not, quite, decided whether to trust that yet.

Essentially, it covers every art pop element that Barnes has touched upon while maintaining an ebb and flow with out any detriments.

For Love can be considered a “reset” album (rather than a “bridge” project). A soul cleanser. An aesthetic detox. In that surrender, that reopening to “beginner’s mind”, the band rediscover themselves, expanding their synergy, their revisionist leanings, and their distinct take on pop theater.

There’s a spring in the step of Inferno that places it as the (*deep breath*) pinnacle of their output to date.

Of Earth & Wires mutates across genres with an erratic, brilliant energy that perfectly matches the album’s themes.

From the poetic appraisal of the confounding status quo on the country hug of “Badlands”, to the banjo-bolstered sigh of summer aimlessness that is “Cowtown”, he consistently proves that his ear is as sharp as his tongue – and it all captures what he sees with his unique eye.

Like its title, Loud Bloom is undeniably a blossoming. It’s a flourish of individual style and a record of following your gut for what feels right; some of the tracks might not work for everyone, but they work for Dreijer.

It’s Been Awful boasts some of Rashad’s most immediately gripping and memorable hooks to date.

Nothing here sounds random or haphazard at all, but rather an almost perfectly concocted pop/rock with some gorgeous harmonies to boot – whether it is the opening title track, mid-album highlight “Fire And Gold” or closing “Your True Enemy.”

Superbloom proves another ace in Jessie Ware’s hand, albeit one that for the most part stays within the dance-disco territory of her 2020s output.

She knows exactly what she’s doing here – instead of simply incorporating other musical elements within country, Musgraves is inverting the process – she’s incorporating country music elements within other musical forms, often searching the best balance between the two.

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.

Mining archetypal yet still fertile paradoxes, Irreversible Entanglements have much to teach us about inspiration, self-awareness, and truth-telling.

The first TMBG first album still ranks among the best of their 20+ studio albums to date, but this latest one is up there somewhere too.

In an industry where many artists are content to follow the algorithmic trends, Zayn Malik has done something much more difficult: he has stayed still, looked inward, and built a musical world that finally sounds like home.

The music itself feels intentionally designed to juxtapose her own search for belonging, lending it an organic duality.

Sunn O))) rewards repeat listens as there’s so much going on under the surface. It’s majestic, euphoric, but also clearly not for everybody. But then you should never really trust the majority, anyway.

It covers the span of all elements that represents the music of Bon Iver, both as the showcase of the span of Vernon’s songwriting and the actual ability of him and his band to do it justice in a live setting.

Still strong, but without precision, the cut isn’t as deep.

Ca$ino doesn’t mark the moment Baby Keem becomes easier to categorize, but the moment he stops needing to be. Baby Keem has arrived, no less fun but clearer to his audience.

Does the album need three spoken-word interludes and a therapising outro? Not really. But when those beats are descending on the last (proper) song “Turn It Around” and Idehen and his singers are singing about self-redemption, none of that matters – your face will be hurting from smiling.

They’re a nostalgia trip of intertextual references. Ö will no doubt frustrate some, and delight many others. It is, after all, just a ride that doesn’t need to be taken too seriously.

Spencer Cullum’s Coin Collection 3, is not only uniform in its musical and recording concept, but in exceedingly strong and varied songwriting that establishes Cullum not only as a sought-after session man, but also as an exceptional solo artist.

In many ways, it is a sort of a musical retrospective of what the Notwist have done so far, both lyrically and musically – though the electronic aspects are a bit more subdued in favour of energetic, brass-imbued indie rock gusto, which suits the messaging.