Although not necessarily pushing boundaries lyrically, Octavian’s appeal lies in the whole package rather than a complex narrative. The raspy flows and melodic groans are at home over the ethereal, bass heavy instrumentals, giving each track a consistent vibe that absorbs multiple elements into a gripping end product.

Tha Carter V was never going to be flawlessly executed--the odds were too stacked against it--but it certainly gives the audience the thrill we were hoping for. It’s a return to form, and a triumphant return for one of the greatest of all time.

Blending elements of footwork, noise, broken beat, neo-classical and experimental, the Indiana artist has crafted the sound of a far out utopia, inhabited with fear, euphoria, bliss and anxiety.

This occasionally uneven, frequently thrilling, plunge into the past proves that sometimes the only way we can go forwards is by looking back.

There’s gorgeous, candid song-craft at work, ‘C’est La Vie 2’ urging that “they say that love is easy if you let it be”. That self-reflection runs like a golden thread, particularly on the woozy ‘These Rocks.’

The party standards are present and correct. ‘Mamma Mia’ is as dizzying good and gay as you’ll get, the aural equivalent of downing three bottles of pink fizz in an Uber with Magic FM, getting pissed with your pals, on the way to the best night of your life. ‘Waterloo’ crashes in on glam-rock drums, a pantomime dame in silver thigh-highs, as she battles and bosses that irresistible chorus. ‘SOS’? Not even going to talk about it. It’s a double-dunt of serotonin; a sure-fire cure for sadness.

Sadly, this lack of innovation seriously dampens those moments of electronic beauty.

An observing eye, everywhere the spirit of Chan Marshall lingers, on a textured, fascinating album, one that feels as though you have been let loose in an endless hall of mirrors.

Hecker’s music alerts us to a kind of universalism grounded in the painfully specific. To be ambient in feeling, to be ambient in song, to be ambient in devotion--this is Hecker’s project.

For My Crimes is a glorious album that demands to repeat listens to try and work out the hidden meanings of its songs and stories. As the nights are drawing in, pull the curtains, dim the lights and give yourself to its country gothic charm.

Iridescence feels like Brockhampton have regrouped musically to create a great, if not perfect, representation and platform to build on.

It’s an album in tune with sometimes grim social realities but one which doesn’t get wrapped up in them, privileging lovely tunes and a broad appeal. European Heartbreak is a triumphant wodge of sparkling pop.

Room 25 packs gorgeous punch after punch, not a second wasted.

This may not quite be the best punk rock album about the Trump era you’ll hear in 2018--fellow 50somethings Superchunk already had a decent crack at that title--but it’s certainly one of the year’s most enjoyable bundles of rage. A thoroughly welcome return.

Taking their time means the album has a thoughtfulness and maturity about it that is often missing from debuts.

The Blue Hour is unlikely to win Suede many new followers, but it should convince any fans of old that their vitality is restored and they are at the peak of their powers once more.

A breathless, breathtaking achievement, Chris is a fascinating, infectious, endlessly suggestive work, an ode to 80s pop bombast that uses those splinters to build and then de-construct countless glimpses of Héloïse Letissier. Somewhere in amongst these myriad of definitions is Christine And The Queens, a shape-shifting pop entity perpetually aiming for something greater.

Thunder Follows the Light is an album that if you take on face value is full of delicate vocals and dreamy melodies, but if you start to dig a bit below its ethereal surface you find something that is incredibly rewarding on repeat listens. This is when the album starts to come into its own and slowly starts to take over your life.

Battle-hardened by lengthy tours across the land and beyond, Pale Waves bring that energy into the studio on a crisp, effervescent debut LP.

Much like Villagers’ previous releases, the overriding feeling is of well-crafted, thoughtfully structured songs. The intimacy created by O’Brien’s delicate voice is as ever enhanced by beautifully chosen tonal colours.

Heaven leans into the cliché. It prompts us to think seriously about what it means for music to rescue us, sincerely, from the depths.

Haiku Salut use instruments as a tool to tell stories, and the band’s emotional gravitas is symptomatic of how this type of music can triumph against all the odds.

A dystopian masterpiece.

Album stand-outs ‘Heavy, California’ and ‘Happy Man’ would have slotted into the last LP seamlessly and, considered as a whole, For Ever feels like an opportunity missed.

Something that immediately grabs you about this record is the production, which easily elevates it above its more naive sounding predecessor; the sound of new label Wichita making good on their investment.

It’s a lengthy, beautiful work, and undoubtedly a late career high from one of the most important, courageous songwriters in the country.

Egypt Station feels like Paul McCartney having a blast being Macca, grasping his own identity, and relishing it--a fun, at times downright bold, return it’s something fans will cherish.

MNEK absolutely knows his way around a pop banger, and it’s his expansive, polished production on more upbeat moments that saves Language from falling flat with cliché lyrics and the dreary lament of slower tracks.

Bouncing with tastefully witty track titles, fizzing synths and mechanic beats, Family Of Aliens perfectly encapsulates the sound of 2018.

Deaths is punchy and economical, written under the pressure of looming deadlines. But even then, it doesn’t abandon the literary and experimental sensibilities developed on the band’s previous records.

Initial cuts from French duo The Blaze showcased their electronic influences, however with this new album they’ve gone above and beyond with their sizzling percussions, mournful vocals and trance-like sounds.

This is the album we've been waiting for, whether we knew it or not.

Black Rainbow Sound is an album that shows a band in flux. The songs sounds bigger and more articulated. Menace Beach are using a larger musical palate and it mostly works.

If this is Spiritualized’s last – and Pierce hasn’t fully rowed-back on that threat, given his lucubrations drove him “crazy”--it’s a very satisfying denouement. If not, it’s still a stellar addition to the Spiritualized® catalogue, matching the vitality of ‘Songs in A&E’ or the richness of ‘that famous one from 1997’, even if it doesn’t say anything especially new.

TERRY are over the hype and romance of being a new band and their music is richer for it, veering off in all directions.

While Indigo is no groundbreaker, it’s exciting for an album with so much nostalgia to sound as fresh and pristine as this.

Despite the visceral joy and catchy melodies of the music; it's Joseph Talbot’s lyrics that are the main event. Part social commentary, stand-up routine and motivational quotes lyrics.

Say what you like about the album, it’s impossible to deny it is blazing with confidence and a witty, abrasive humour. What we loved about Slaves when they emerged into the DIY punk scene has returned into the mainstream, and about time too.

A Better Life is an entirely different beast, expanding on their debut’s vigorous garage-pop sound to create something darker, meatier and much heavier on all fronts.

Whilst sonically Fixed Ideals can vary in its impact, Lande Hekt’s lyrics tell a relatable story in a crafty way, carrying the record all the way through.

Mogwai have come a long way since ‘Angels vs. Aliens’ in 1996. Gone are the walls of raging guitar and searing feedback. In its place is understated quiet and contemplation. This underpins KIN and really adds a grandiose dollop cinematic majesty.

Let’s Go Sunshine is a solid album, though not groundbreaking. It is clear that The Kooks have tried to deviate from their established sound in a way that doesn’t completely alienate older fans, and rightly so.

Instantly familiar while still feeling fresh; nostalgic while clearly the product of a band who’ve carved a niche rather than rest on their laurels, Is This Thing Cursed? is the album long-term fans have been clamouring for since Skiba shaved his hair.

The album is littered with exquisite collaborations.

This might not be as immediate and catchy as previous Animal Collective releases, possibly due to Panda Bear’s absence, but its one of their most transfixing and beguiling.

For a four-piece rock band from Texas, they still remain pretty difficult to classify and almost impossible to ignore. Play loud and enjoy.

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.

Raw but refined, familiar but resolutely strange, Marauder seizes that fine balance of retaining the old while introducing the new; the sound of a band at ease with themselves, it could well be Interpol’s finest album in a decade.

Go To School is a highly ambitious album and some may be wary of the concept, however, if you unpack it, there’s a touching tale within that can resonate with all.

Rather than crumbling under the pressure of acclaim, Mitski embraces it and is all better for it. These trials and tribulations that birthed Be The Cowboy have not only developed Mitski as a musician, but also act as another sign that she has the potential to be considered one of the best singer-songwriters of our generation.

Whilst adhering to a pretty well-worn formula with the usual rousing emotion ebbs and flows, Gibbard’s ability to paint such vivid imagery with his carefully considered approach to lyricism does warrant revisiting, despite some moments proving patchy than others.

Loud, hypnotic, vitriolic solos, mordant melodies with biting lyrics. It’s everything we’ve come to expect.

Wonderfully engaging from the first line of opener ‘Our Girl’, this cracking debut mirrors the nuanced nature of modern life with equal parts noise and softness.

Lighting Matches isn’t a bad album, but sadly it doesn't excel either.

Move Through The Dawn is an album sadly bereft of impact, from its lacklustre cover onwards.

She’s broken the curse, she’s woven a spell--and the self-described ‘luckiest little Scottish witch in the world’ is safe to cackle back off into the night, having created possibly the best album we’ll hear all year.

Taking inspiration from Al Green, Barry White and D’Angelo, produced with her long-term friend and collaborator Micachu, Tirzah manages to create a warped ‘90s R&B record with a soulful core and enough electronic dissonance for the modern age.

With Qualm, Helena Hauff has created the record we both wanted and needed. It’s a statement of romantic infatuation amongst an otherwise hash, twisted and raw landscape. A glance into the past and a look to the future. There is nothing apologetic about this record, and that’s what makes it so great.

RL Grime seemingly wants to keep everyone happy and while that approach will almost certainly find success in the clubs or the fields of Coachella it often hinders rather than helps his studio efforts.

While this ‘everything but the kitchen sink’ ethos doesn’t always hit, No Sounds Are Out Of Bounds’s jovial attitude towards its own self-existence makes for an endearing listen that’ll no doubt flourish over time.

Everything feels so much more alive, everything so much more stark; Longstreth seems to have emerged from a year-long slumber, and there is no more sleeping in sight.

On OCHL they’re keen to take risks, side step that familiar territory and play with the formula. That consistent need to innovate and grow is what makes Deafheaven so divisive, so unpredictable and so extraordinary.

All of this ultimately comes together to create an utterly enchanting piece of work. A record filled with countless intricate and carefully considered elements, and yet one that never feels cluttered, or at risk of losing its pervasive emotional resonance.

Joy is like a rickety wooden rollercoaster--there are a few nice inclines with some mildly disappointing drops between some pulsating flats, and you end up getting off slightly begrudgingly.

Their astutely crafted synth-pop cements their place as Pet Shop Boys’ spiritual successors.

Lotic has pushed the envelope sonically, and compositionally, to create a brave and breathtaking view of gender in 2018 and, ultimately, what it means to be alive.

This album signifies a moment for UK jazz but more importantly this a moment for Kamaal Williams.

Scorpion might not be Drake’s most innovative work, but it does help to cement 40’s status as one of the best, and most consistent, producers of our generation, and sees Drake breaking ground commercially if not creatively.

Opener ‘Shock Out’ illustrates a playful approach that floats on the periphery of danger while ‘Slay’ sees her really flex her lyricism complete with a wavy flow. As is to be expected, The Bug’s production floats in the oxymoronic universe of heavy and atmospheric that is both haunting and devastating.

BDL Bipolar will give Narstie’s fanbase plenty to enjoy, and while the juxtaposition of staid instrumentals with subversive lyrics is jarring, he remains a gifted MC, worth hearing out.

Fletcher and Parkin have released an album that doesn’t fit into the confines of what an ‘alternative’ album should be in 2018. Instead they’ve crafted 11 songs that show off their love of retro sounds, an infectious joy for life, a good melody and a catchy chorus.

Endless Scroll is 14 snappy, spirited and occasionally incantatory songs.

Serpentwithfeet teaches us to be ourselves, to endure and be happy and love each other, and it’s rare to hear these simple, well-known things being delivered with a power and strength that can transcend the medium of music itself, turning it into a pure magic.

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

Stripped back and unapologetic, Florence Welch’s fourth record as Florence + the Machine carries a sense of nakedness never seen before--it’s self-aware, remorseless, and raw.

This mature, experienced point of view on the nation’s favorite pastime is bound to rock clubs this summer.

Free For All is a debut album from a producer continually finding new perspectives on your favourite sounds.

While never quite holding together as a set, NIN continues to admirably cover new ground while doing what they do best, namely reflecting humanity’s worst impulses.

All in all, this is a good album. While it has some magnificent moments, it doesn't quite come together enough to make a for a completely stellar ride.

If they’ve perfected the modern pop template associated with acts like SOPHIE (on production duties here) - and they have - it’s somehow not the most impressive element of the record. The second half of the album includes a pair of breathtaking epics, ‘Cool & Collected’ and ‘Donnie Darko’, that showcase a songwriting maturity well beyond their 18 and 19 years.

That the ‘World’s Most Successful Virtual Band’ sounds like something you’ve probably seen on the YouTube sidebar is apt. Otherwise, it seems to be business as usual on another jubilant and solidly varied Gorillaz album.

It is an album that demands repeat listens, but this is fine, as with each listen we learn a little more of its secrets, but once they have been cracked Bon Voyage becomes something greater than its parts.

An album with soul jazz, spiritual jazz, jazz-funk, electro-soul and many more genre-busting approaches incorporated across 16 wondrous pieces, aspects of free rhythms nestling next to vintage seventies soul sounds, all evolved effortlessly for the 21st Century. ... You won’t hear another record like it this, or maybe any, year.

Call The Comet doesn’t quite reach the heights it sets out to, as the execution on some tracks falls flat despite some interesting ideas. That being said, there are enough moments throughout the record to remind you that the Marr magic is alive and well.

Never boring, never dull, this is a glowing, fire-breathin’, thunder-clappin’ ghost train of a record.

SOPHIE manages to incorporate the personal without detracting from what set her apart in the first place, and it makes for a record that’s as affecting as it is thrilling.

It’s a road record to soundtrack a hazy journey across the outback in search of a lost love, contemplating the world whilst swigging on a beer. Hope Downs is far from perfect, but it has charm in abundance.

A record that spirits the listener along at quite a pace, its already relatively concise thirty-five minutes stirring a melodic whirlwind.

It’s fair to say Jordan has delivered an album worthy of its 90s indie antecedents, even surpassing some of these.

Heavily weighty with fiery doom and gloom, Lauren Mayberry masters the art of colourfully abstract lyrics.

It seems The Aces have achieved their goal however, to escape the indie clichés attached to pop bands using guitars, and have created a fully-fledged pop scorcher.

This record contains meticulous instrumental arrangements and clever storytelling. It is protest music without the cliché heavy rock sound and direct lyrics. Instead Maltese uses satire to place pity upon the world but mostly himself, all delivered with a wry grin and a sparkle in his eye.

While this might not be the most pivotal ‘sad pop’ record from someone who arguably coined the genre, it can stand toe-to-toe with the best of them and few albums have ever been as appropriately named as so sad so sexy.

While Lost & Found doesn’t feel like Jorja Smith’s magnum opus, it’s a brilliant first draft.

Sometimes its hard to separate the art from the artist, but Lily Allen has once again drawn upon brutally honest and painfully raw experiences from her own personal life to create an all-encompassing and emotive sonic journey that keeps your finger firmly on the repeat button. Absolutely nothing to be ashamed of here.

Ecstatic Arrow is kind of the sonic equivalent of the Barbican Conservatory, with its juxtaposition of undulating concrete and myriad verdant plants from across the world. And if you’ve ever been there, you’ll know it’s a very pleasant space.

It’s another marvellous addition to the Father John Misty catalogue, delivered from a songwriter that surely now deserves to be recognised as one of, if not the greatest, of this decade.

(04:30) Idler is his confident, self-assured follow-up. Sonically, Isaac appears completely comfortable in his slightly more refined new skin.