Pedestrian may have similar mechanics to Yuck’s highlights underneath, but it’s stripped that fuzzy distortion and slathered in a thick layer of schmaltz as a replacement. The end result is a struggle, one that’s scattershot due to it’s need to include now-ancient methods to survive.

One often loses a sense of location and chronological time, transported into a sublime realm, Blunt reveling in understated craft, melancholic freedom, and undiluted authenticity.

Songs like “Carpenter” and “Set the Fairlight” have some of that old-school Islands mentality, displaying Thorburn’s ability to write infectious grooves. But these moments are few and far between and easily overshadowed by the homogenous tones of “Natural Law Party” and the flighty “Marble”.

Where Shall We Begin is as strong a debut album as we could have hoped for. It sounds incredibly considered and carefully put together, from each song choice to the instrumental arrangements.

It’s not bad music per se, but lacking Weiss’ sharp drumming and the virtuoso guitar work the two are so good at, there’s not much left of what made Sleater-Kinney exciting.

On Reflection, we truly see the breadth of her resourcefulness as an artist: both as translator and purveyor of gut feeling. The elemental building blocks are all you need to shape something completely new.

His choruses don’t jump out at you so much as slink by, which is not always a bad thing, but maybe not what you want from pop music. ... Every song on Changephobia sounds like it has an inch-thick layer of dust on it, but if you take a finger and smear that off, there’s a beautiful ice-cream paint-job below.

Although this is an album about oneness, we are here for Peng, and these moments where we feel closest to her as a person are some of the most rewarding.

The album is the sound of Penelope pushing back, deciding that the closing of motherhood is not the end of her life. She’s confident and resolute in spirit and vision. It’s art defined by ageing and it’s all the more powerful for it.

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

At its worst, The Tunnel and the Clearing sounds akin to lovely if too-inoffensive loading screen music. At its best, it’s bewitching and intriguing. Overall, Schott still has much to give, and much to offer this particular genre of minimalistic abstract pop, but she may need to do more next time around to take her considerable skills even further.

This album embraces you like your favorite seat, preserving your outline intimately in its fabric.

Monthly Friend is serviceable indie rock at best, but it’s hard to meet it with anything greater than apathy and indifference.

Blood is an undeniably fun album brimming with indie-pop sensibilities and anthemic energy that makes listeners want to sing along.

Cavalcade is an experience album, one that lingers long after it’s over. It calls to you from the basement.

Overall, Frontera retains the qualities that fans of Fly Pan Am always appreciated about the collective, but this time around they feel disconnected. That is not to say the album is bad, it simply appears that it cannot be properly appreciated without the aid of the dance performance by Animals Of Distinction.

At times, take the cake feels like it’s at an ennui crossroads, trying to define listlessness while side-stepping its intentions. But how many artists have we seen hover around an emotional bullseye on their first album only to hit it on their next go-round? Even if take the cake doesn’t show PACKS’ full potential, it still gives us much to look forward to.

Throughout Showtunes, Wagner demonstrates that theatricality and showmanship can manifest in many different and sometimes subtle forms. He may not draw in many new fans from this one-act performance, but it’s still one of the band’s most intriguing and well-executed productions nonetheless.

CHAI see no line whatsoever between taking on whatever issues get to them and being able to completely bliss out, and it’s this very energy that continues to make them absolutely essential. WINK is simply the warmest, most open way they’ve chosen to engage in that battle yet.

While Mannequin Pussy may not have necessarily progressed hugely, they have found thrilling new ways to implement the sounds that made Patience such a success. Most excitingly, the little glimpses of new ideas and chemistry suggest it’s just a stepping stone to what’s next.

It’s music for mending the soul and opening the eyes of skeptics to what music – what really good music – can do for us. No matter what walks of life we come from, there’s legitimate emotion attached to Mdou Moctar’s music, and it should shake any living, breathing being right to their core.

The lightness of touch and tone on The Power of Rocks imbues it all with an easy energy.

With Indian Yard, there’s a feeling we might not yet know the full identity of Ya Tseen, but a future release without such reliance on partnerships will surely enlighten. There’s enough thoughtful layering and earnest emotion (“At Tugáni” is where he shows this most, notably in a song named after his son) in Indian Yard to merit further exploration.

With The Monster Who Hated Pennsylvania, Jurado has released another moving and memorable album, gaining further traction in what might be considered the third phase of his career.

Haram feels like the truest representation what they set out to do at the start of their journey as a duo. As a result, it finds them asking the questions everyone is avoiding.

It’s a rich tapestry of sound, message and meaning with multiple layers to unpick with each listen.

Like anyone daring to take a glimpse into the future, Hutchings is met with confusion, astonishment and alienation. Fortunately, he assimilates the tools, knowledge and creative bandwidth to acutely document them, and more importantly, navigate them in a useful, inherently joyous way.

It’s a topsy-turvy balancing act that she’s playing, but for the most part it’s successful. Clark flips between that groovy funk of the 70s, then back to her guitar rock days, and then, sure, she employs some more experimental and electronic moments that might come across as jarring to some. But it’s also just part of the brand that is St. Vincent in 2021.