His most well-rounded, diverse, and unrelenting body of work to date.

Each track feels like its own ecosystem, tackling its own demons and fighting with its own musical journey. It’s certainly an album created with plenty of thought and various concepts tackled within its 40-odd minutes, leaving a sweet aftertaste, and the urge for an immediate re-listen.

There is so much to unpack in one listen with some many beautiful intricacies to get lost in. With each part of the album bringing something unique.

On each listen Love What Survives is a record full of raw honesty, both musically and artistically, and is worth your undivided attention.

‘Short n’ Sweet’ as a whole is a little less addictive than its lead single, and a little less sensitive than its predecessor, but it’s a solid entry into the Sabrina canon, with plenty of potential to sneak up on you with a gut-punch should you ever find yourself relating to it.

Adore Life sacrifices intensity for heart and with some exploration into the use of space and silence, it could be their perfect album. After all, absence makes the heart grow fonder.

Where three years of agonised, vice-grip creation and destruction preceded Grizzly Bear’s 2012’s multi-dimensional effort ‘Shields’, the five years of space following has worked in their favour--leading to the conception of a creature that breathes confidently with a heavy sense of hyper-ambition in Painted Ruins.

The net result, a tapestry through dark alleys and along river banks, makes for an entertaining listening journey.

The album overall feels like an experiment for Aubin-Dionne, each song stands alone but it’s heard better as a whole piece. The use of calming synth melodies and diverse beats that tie together to make for a fulfilling and emotional 40 minutes of music.

‘Burden Of Proof’ pushes Benny The Butcher back to the forefront, and offers further evidence that Griselda is one of the most vital labels in North American hip-hop right now.

While it may not be the East Atlanta rapper’s best, it still stands as a solid successor to ‘EA Monster’.

Many may still see Vynehall as a specialist in euphoric house, but this album has a richness and depth that transcends the dancefloor.

This album is a step in the right direction in terms of mood, but it’s an overstep in terms of the emotional burden Brown is offering. The choruses are repetitive and don’t fit, and the take away should be focusing more on balance. However, it’s not a question of if he can get that balance right, but when.

As a collection, Father of the Bride holds together remarkably well. This is not some grand tome where these indie vets try and break new sonic territory every track for better or worse. Here we see a bunch of thirty-somethings letting go of some past anxieties and leaning into newfound securities. It's a relaxed record happily borrowing from the modern American songbook, a little Fleetwood Mac here, a little Paul Simon there.

This album won’t please the fans who wanted ‘Malibu’ again because, simply put, it isn’t. But for those who are excited by an artist unafraid to reinvent and experiment, then look no further.

Ambitious, emotive, and completely open, it’s a gorgeous song cycle, drenched in jazz-leaning arrangements.

The oscillation between moods is deafening, but effortless as Scott’s come-ons and teardowns are a poetic masterclass.

Overgrown remains closer knit, and paradoxically less fragmented than its illustrious predecessor, ideas rotating core values guided by an affirmatively unseen hand. Which ultimately makes this an even better record.

There is a modern, angry masterpiece in here--just skip the manifesto.

It’s rare that an artist peaks twice in their career, but ‘Virgin’ accelerates to equal climaxes which it was widely, and wrongly, assumed only fan favourite album ‘Melodrama’ could reach.

Their heaviest record since ‘Suicide Silence’. Well, maybe their heaviest record since ‘There Is A Hell…’. OK, almost certainly their heaviest record since ‘Sempiternal’. This is not to say that going back to their brutal roots is a bad move. Sykes recently described heavy music as the band’s ‘bread and butter’, and there’s definitely a sense that BMTH are playing on home turf with ‘SURVIVAL HORROR’.

This is labour intensive listening, but hard work reaps rewards. A gnomic, genre-busting album.

These 11 tracks are relentlessly melodic, channeling the soulful pop-punk of Descendents and anthemic grunge of Hole rather than any of Scowl’s pit-stomping hardcore peers. Moss’ ruthless scream makes a handful of notable appearances, such as on ‘B.A.B.E’ and titular closer, however, the main focus here is an elegant sense of rock euphony that manifests via a range of differing but cohesive songwriting approaches.

With 37 previously unreleased performances, On Air Volume 2 is essential for any Beatles collector. For everyone else, it’s an informal insight into the world’s greatest group on the verge of an exhilarating ascent.

A heart-wrenching collection of songs that urges the listener to give themselves over to this album as much as Ethel Cain gives herself over to you.

This is the kind of record that inspires new listeners to explore unfamiliar sounds and musical histories; the kind of record that bodes very well for the future of British jazz.

It is so unmistakably Deerhunter without sacrificing any of their mythos or crucial genetic makeup. And we sure can't find any fault with that.

Each song presents itself as a story-in-miniature; a perfectly crafted beginning, middle, end (albeit sometimes the artistry of the track makes the listening experience more middle, end, beginning).

Viagra Boys stamp a great big watermark over this album as they engrave their aesthetic right down to its core. ‘Cave World’ sees them bounce back with another grandiose LP just a year after their last – true miracle workers.

A beautiful diversion then, rather than an eye-opening reboot or soul-stirring call to arms.

They’re worth the minor missteps along the way.

The album's ear-catching finish endorses Golden Ticket as a rewardingly receptive, slightly slippery customer to the death.

The result is an intense kind of dialogue between man and machine, and draws from the typically organic piano sound a new, otherworldly texture.

There isn't really a dull moment on 7 Days, as the pair clearly enjoy being allowed to flex lyrically without any thought of watering down due to commercial considerations.

A record that lands with such hazy panache, transporting its listener into a nocturnal wilderness where dreams are limitless. The record is undoubtedly a strong return to form for the folktronica vanguards and potentially the signalling of a second coming for the band.

Delivered in a soft whisper, with the most minimal of supporting musical infrastructure compared to its studio counterpart, ['Distant Sky'] is immediately tender and transcendent, but devoid of all hope, the addition of Danish soprano singer Else Torp's stirring vocal enough to render even the hardest-hearted individual a bawling mess.

More than once, in fact, the album surprises with moments of rock gusto. Wilson’s trademark balladry is still in full force, but musically this is a much rawer affair than anything previous album ‘There Are No Saints’ could have foretold.

Off-kilter energy, and their trademark honesty abound, LIFE - who received accolades such an ‘Album Of The Year’ listing from BBC Radio 1- prove with their second album that they are a quality band capable of making stand-out records more than once.

Lapalux has a great touch, but a bit of attention on the parts of the project that feel slightly off could bring out all the fantastic in this record.

Though it may not be their most daring record to date, it’s certainly one where they’ve taken most risks, and their blend of indie-rock and electro-pop certainly pays off.

A powerfully affecting song cycle, ‘On Grace & Dignity’ peels back preconceptions, stabbing straight for the raw nerve.

On ‘Brothers And Sisters’ he sounds like he feels comfortable being in his skin and writing uplifting music that doesn’t have a massive political message, though one is there. It doesn’t have a massively personal message, though it is there. Instead, he’s written an album for everyone.

The album marks itself as one of the most special and singular of the year and beyond. With a cohesive tone of lysergic, hypnagogic soupiness, yet plenty of variety, the genre traversal is almost seamless. The only major struggle from ‘partygatorpurgatory’ is the impatience induced in waiting for more.

The songwriting is easy-going, the risks taken effortlessly; more than 15 years into their time together, Bombay Bicycle Club are still taking chances, and still reaping the rewards.

His third is a fun yet wonderfully composed record that sounds radically different to what he’s produced before. If a little odd at points with a dialling down of immediacy, patience is required to fully appreciate the pay-off.

A trim 10 tracks – and 35 minutes of music – ‘Pink Cactus Café’ feels like a pared back record, a slightly old fashioned ‘two sides of vinyl’ structure.

As raw and energetic as ‘Who Let The Dogs Out’ is, it’s over after a breathless half-hour. There’s enough variety to keep attention firmly on this exciting duo, who might just be one of the best up-and-coming British bands.

Taking his time, as much of the album does, is no bad thing when the melodies are this compelling.

It’s simply a masterclass in vibrant, unique and breath-stealing hip-hop whose layers of complexity never stand in the way of its fun, vivid storytelling. Put on your headphones, plug yourself in and enter clipping.’s immaculately-crafted cyber world.

To the uninitiated, this kind of '70s-inspired thrum-rock might sound a bit AOR, but given time it reveals its nuances, placing Vile somewhere between a rougher-edged M. Ward and a bluesy Ariel Pink.

A radiant and eminently danceable album, it’s a necessary salve to put on this year.

What the album lacks in genuine surprises--it features fewer floor-filling basslines than its makers’ previous LP ‘proper’, 2010’s dance-designed ‘We Were Exploding Anyway’--it more than makes up for in comprehensive consistency.

It’s less Nick Drake-y than Lay’s last effort, and it feels more self-assured and hopeful.

The anthems are still here, rest assured; they’re less obvious, but definitely no less compelling.

The album is full of anticipation. At times it’s ugly and overblown. But it’s a collective vision, one that reflects back on our own inputs into the dataset as well as at our folk stories of survival and resistance.

An arresting, astonishing experience, Schlagenheim is a vital, stunning, puzzling album, one that demands to be heard.

Front Row Seat To Earth strongly standing as one of the year's most affecting and luscious releases.

’Ignatius’ is the album the hip-hop scene didn’t know it needed, the raw voice and understanding Jadakiss delivers here offers much-needed respite from the shallow music we seem to be swamped in at the moment. What a way to make a comeback.

Injury Reserve’s new album is a truly dystopian impression of despair, smashing together polar opposite genres to create something wholly new.

Although 'Elephant In The Room' is not quite as diverse as his 2018 effort 'Pieces Of A Man' or as fresh as his breakout tape 'Wave[s]', there's a lot to love about the album, and it's likely to one that ages gracefully over time.

This is a messy, distracted record for messy, distracted times. Its creator has produced something studiously imperfect, a cracked vase that’s beauty you can’t help but admire while still wishing you could see it perfect and whole.

Like acid (which, again, he never touched) this record is illuminating, often inaccessible, often scary and most people would hate it. But it's still one hell of a trip.

The album tells its own superbly structured story, bathing in synthesis and heavily grounded in the contexts of lockdown, while allowing these very contexts to steer the process beyond angst and towards a utopian catharsis.

Freed from expectation, they can gleefully channel the melodic sheen of the Eighties without veering into needy bombast. There seems to be some tension at the heart of the band’s dynamic right now, but it has inspired a meticulous, strident and euphoric sounding record.

If you love the ambiguous crossover between half-step London sounds and crushed and warped 4/4 peddled by the likes of Martyn, Burial or Joy Orbison, then the love in you will find this album.

‘Being Funny In A Foreign Language’, like most of their projects, has something for everyone, but this time does stay in one lane – and that’s for the better.

When you listen to the albums back-to-back you get a better idea of who Autechre are and how they see the world. Yes, it is a wonderful place full of natural beauty and hope, but it is also dank and skittering full of people who only care about their self- interest and petty squabbles. Both of which Autechre have captured in exquisite detail.

More Waitrose advert than classic Wrigley’s; the Black Keys’ raw power’s been polished. Some things are meant to stay rough around the edges.

Whilst the initial surprise felt on the original ‘Saturation’ may have subsided, the erratic excitement and experimentation on that album has been executed more confidently on each subsequent chapter. The LA group are everything progressive rap music should be; forward thinking, energetic and perhaps most importantly, exciting.

If you’re looking for an album to brighten your day, come enter the world of CHAI.

‘SIGN’ is an album that doesn’t just get under your skin, but in your head. If you give it enough time it will own, you and you will feel better for it. Autechre have returned and the wait was definitely worth it.

The criss-crossing sounds better than ever, and is everything you’d want from a FaltyDL opus.

Overall, the album--filled with as much theatrical swagger as great music--is much more than just a remake as Ferry’s baritone vocals and inventive arrangements make for an album that invokes a lot more than nostalgia; with the ability to attract new fans as well as hold the old.

Blood is a work that speaks for itself, an album that’s boundless, and restlessly pursues the ideas of its creator.

Picking up exactly where they left off, The Raconteurs’ denim-clad early ‘70s reference points are in check, delivered in gleeful, exuberant, electrifying fashion.

‘Fulton’ and ‘Morning River’ are early highlights, while ‘Circuit Rider’ seems to exude the characteristics of the album’s Los Angeles setting. Closing with the reflective ‘Ever Feel That Way’, Steve Gunn marvels with the lightest of touches.

With its mixture of wonky psych, fiery funk, and jazzy jams, this may stand as the label's most eclectic and enjoyable compilation of the year. If you love to groove, look no further than this set of scorching songs to keep you moving during the dark, cold nights.

A glittering gem amongst recent releases, ‘IRL’ sees Mahalia defining herself as a long-standing name within British RnB.

It is an unpredictable and highly eclectic listen packed full of depth and textures making this a must listen.

His ambiguous and damning lament on modern England – as ever, left beautifully to our imagination.

There’s no need to know the full context to enjoy ‘Cabin In The Sky’. As one of the most straight-forwardly enjoyable hip-hop albums 2025 has offered us, you’d be hard-pushed to top it for entertainment.

The ambition behind Apollo XXI was already easily perceptible on singles like ‘Playground’, whose energy could best be termed ‘Yung Prince’, and becomes clearer still over the course of its other 11 songs.

Stella Donnelly has an unwavering ability to execute a subtly empowering and relevant record with derisive humour and mischievous wit.

The real issue is that in a genre filled with imitators, many whom Deerhunter no doubt inspired, we need a bit more bang for our buck. When the oddities on this album ride so high they should have let complete weirdness take over.

This preference for impulsiveness and reaction off of one another when making their music comes through in the warm, emotive feel of the whole record.

Over its twelve tracks, the listener is taken down the proverbial rabbit hole as Grzegorz Kwiatkowski's hypnotic and repetitive lyrical attack lulls you along. This isn't an album that grabs you by the collar, but rather builds tension and release as it lures you through the dark thickets of your mind.

The band expertly place seemingly clashing sounds side by side, but with their lyrical deft and technical prowess are able to make it work effortlessly. Similarly, they consistently bring club-pop energy while employing conventional rock instrumentation, all the while having a level of lyrical honesty and wit others rarely achieve.

This is a contemplative, confident record which will only strengthen with further listening.

It isn't just the narratives that feel more mature however, the entire composition does. Something which stems from its two individual halves.

‘God Don’t Make Mistakes’ is a stunning, multi-faceted achievement.

‘10,000 gecs’ is a sub-thirty-minute blast of the duo at their best, creating some truly bonkers music and refusing to ever conform.

Although fans are nostalgically pining for the innocent, youthful sound of her voice from her early albums, there’s no questioning that she has a more controlled and comfortable vocal ability now.

It’s a fully realised, sprightly rocking album that proves that sometimes musicians are best left alone to do what they do best.

The land may not currently be fertile in terms of crops but it certainly is in artistry, as there is a wild eclecticism and experimentalism here that touches the soul.

‘Not Your Muse’ is not a revolutionary album, but every track is a more than enjoyable listen.

The album is bold, eccentric and proudly rooted in classical South Asian traditions, whilst sounding fresh and accessible at the same time.

To take influences from so many places, whilst still being as focused as 'Skin' is no mean feat and while it can be hard to define the line between the worlds the band traverse, no one else out there is walking that line right now as well as they do.

A focussed, unified return, ‘Volcano’ doffs its cap to some supreme influences, while also allowing Jungle to expand, and evolve. Soulful songwriting with a thirst for house and disco, it finds the production duo amplifying their ambitions, and finessing their techniques across a cycle of exceptionally strong songwriting.