Although SCUM can sometimes feel like the 2017 update of music you’ve enjoyed from the past 20 years, at its best Rat Boy delivers some of the most interesting and exciting moments to come from British music this year.

A bold and confident sixth effort.

Kinder Versions may not be a fully formed classic, but it demonstrates that the band’s ambitions are no empty threat.

Although the succession of lukewarm tracks early on prevents this from being a flawless debut, Vic Mensa does enough to keep the album an engaging listen even in its misguided moments.

It’s a pleasingly considered and well-crafted project from a man who’s contribution to the UK music scene should not be understated. A man who has proved himself yet again to be a talented and versatile producer with obvious respect for the music that has got him to where he is today.

It is a genuine classic album. ... Lal Waterson was a hugely significant and individual songwriter, and her spirit--alongside Mike’s energy, his unique, rasping voice and his own songwriting--plus the time capsule who’s-who of a support cast from the British folk scene of the early 1970’s--make this curious work of art individual, heartfelt and fun.

Album closer ‘Joy Ride’ does exactly what it says on the tin; it’s a joyous, perfectly assembled pop track. That’s not to say that the Kickstarter-funded LP is hit after hit--the bright and brash ‘It’s Sunny’ with its oddly theatrical tropes is a cheesy misstep.

Hug Of Thunder is a welcome return by Broken Social Scene. Dignified, grand and full of life, let’s just hope we don’t have to wait another seven years for their next record.

Littered with hyper-stimulants and the minutiae chaos of modern living, and where Ernest Greene, purveyor of faded daytime psychedelia, once spoke to romantic stasis from his internal landscape of unseen tropics, his diverting third effort sees him taking a heavy blow from reality.

Although the second half of the record loses steam somewhat with a succession of slow R&B vocal numbers like ‘Your Space’ and ‘Feelings of the World’, Sounds of Crenshaw Vol. 1 largely maintains its coherence. Its slight messiness is representative of a life lived, something that in itself never coheres as a perfect narrative.

Though Emerging Adulthood does push Croll far out of his personal comfort zone to a certain extent, it does feel like he could go further with the complexity. Nevertheless his musicianship is undeniable, as each and every instrument on the record is played by himself.

Eurgh! is, dare we say, unashamedly millennial, and implicit in its pissed-off puerility. This is why it triumphs, because there’s no room for subtlety in times like these.

Despite these few fleeting moments of greatness, Everything Now feels like the band's first missfire record of their career, with its lack of a focused concept, cohesiveness and heart.

French’s flow and character may be the same as his previous works, but his stature within the rap world has rocketed.

There’s still moments of fragility that populate the record (‘Fade’), but for the most part it’s a brazen and self-assured release, and it’s all the better for it.

For such a young talent, his lyrics are strong, but give him a few more years of life experience and they could be in a different league.

Previously it felt like as though these two sides have been difficult to reconcile on record; the abrasive would often be at odds with the tranquil, particularly on last studio album ‘Cherry Bomb’. On Flower Boy, though, Tyler has perfected his marriage of the two.

Bloated at 16 tracks, it could have been a genuinely strong EP that formed a platform for Dizzee’s return to the sound he helped birth.

Despite the still occasionally underdeveloped, teenage diary-like lyrics, there are glimpses of more comedic moments amongst the angst.

Mura Masa’s nuance, confidence and obvious versatility betray his relative inexperience, and it’s increasingly clear that he is already a musical force to be reckoned with.

‘Run Me Dry’ plays a la mode with a loose dembow rhythm, but, as with the rest of the album, there are plenty of others out there who’ve not only done this already but done it more engagingly.

Dust is divisive and at times challenging. Yet, in Halo’s restless experimentalism we find moments of unexpected beauty.

HDWGSD is so DTF it's practically humping the furniture, making it one of the most genuine works of rock 'n' roll since Elvis weaponised his pelvis.

Some listeners may find fault in the looseness with which the mix is put together and the unexpected results that the track pairings create (see the transition from the heavy rhythms of ‘Nocturne’ to the Craig David-sounding vocal samples of ‘So It Seems’, or the unashamed ‘70s funk of ‘Vs’), yet it is in these very moments that Snaith’s creative bravery and vision come to the fore, subverting t

Unfortunately, with much of the record polished to a dull gleam, there’s little else that succeeds in rising above a pleasant but otherwise unremarkable album.

At the heart of this record overriding percussive elements claw their way to the forefront and this matched with Ditto’s smooth but commanding voice is a winning formula.

The double album structure adds texture to the record’s length, avoiding monotony. Goldie clearly still owns his sound and endows it with a unique vision on The Journey Man.

Both immediately hook-filled and intellectually deep at the same time, God First has already earned its place as one of the most exciting and unexpected releases of 2017.

As the songs start to slow in the second half of the album, the focus starts to wander. The songs aren’t bad, The Drums have put out a lot worse, they just drop the thrilling momentum of the earlier half.

Although at times the sound experiments can feel too inward-looking, Howard balances the darkness and lightness of his palette with relative ease, producing a record of imaginative depth and danceable surface.

It’s reality music, and while obviously tailored around the life and times of Shawn Carter, offers so many narratives that the common man can relate to in astounding measures.

This is an album that deserves big headphones and large sweeping views of grey coastal days.

All of this means that, in spite of the anguished self-interrogation that went into its making, this still sounds exactly how a Toro y Moi album should sound. However, Boo Boo feels like what we might call a coming-of-age album.

In aping the sounds that made early rave great--hardcore, breaks and hard house--Vibert has sucked the soul from the genre leaving just a smattering of style. If this is an ode to rave, then it is a hollow one.

Bottling up teenage emotions and expressing it in effervescent electronica and wistful melodies, their self-titled debut is 16 tracks of minimalistic and clean compositions overridden with Paul Klein’s lovestruck lyrics.

The band’s approach to music-making has always been as eclectic as their references, but generally they’ve stuck to one approach per album. Unfortunately this is where Home Counties comes a bit unstuck. There’s quite a lot going on.

The majority of Grateful is forgettable at best.

Although littered with incandescent beams of hyper-melody--extending a hand to the youth of 2013’s ‘Days Are Gone’, Something To Tell You is patient and moves at its own, night-unending pace, where Californian sister act Este, Danielle, and Alana surf some kind of strange paradise between love and loss.

Without the visuals and context, the record can become excessively meditative at times, yet at its finest moments it re-forms the uninhabitable vastness of the desert-space as a blank canvas in the listener’s imagination, to be filled with inspiration of their own.

For the most part, the record warrants its own expansiveness as themes of self-doubt, isolation and faith slowly supernova among dazzling ambient instrumentals, careening string sections and Sufjan’s warped vocals that bring harmony, hope and futurism to the cold, dense expanse of space.

Featuring savage and often heartfelt, diary-like ruminations, CTRL pushes against the borders of convention lyrically and sonically, placing it on the upper echelons of potential ‘Best Of ’17’ lists.

While it doesn’t quite have the same urgency as ‘Based on a T.R.U. Story’ or ’T.R.U. REALigion', Pretty Girls Like Trap Music is perfectly positioned to be a 2017 favourite catering to both fans of this generation’s trap music and those that were knee deep in trap during its late ‘90s/early ‘00s inception.

Big Fish Theory is a record that not only sees Vince taking risks and progressing forward as an artist, but also another astounding example of what hip-hop should and can be in 2017.

If you’re looking for a 3am club techno sound, then this record probably isn’t for you; its delicacy makes rather for an introspective experience.

If 'Fleet Foxes' was an unbroken hike up from the foothills into the peaks of the Appalachians, 'Crack-Up' is more like the winding train ride home.

As an album, though still swinging from one place to another with glee, The Underside Of Power feels important, and very, very serious, as a body of work. It is one of the year’s very best albums, and sets out Algiers as one of the decade’s very best bands.

To hear tracks like ‘Dizzy Dizzy’ or ‘Halleluwah’ hacked down to mere Can-ettes for the humble 7” format feels a little like trying to make sense of a vast painted canvass simply by focusing on, say, the top left corner. Once you get over that, with singles typically being the most accessible or marketable moments in a band’s trajectory, this collection represents a superb introduction to the Can catalogue for anyone lacking the willpower or patience to trawl their albums or the goldmine of material presented on 2012’s essential ‘The Can Tapes.’

An intense, ingenious and utterly insane listen, Murder Of The Universe is another brilliant addition to King Gizzard's already stellar and ever-expanding discography.

Songhoy Blues have once again produced an album for all. The small-minded stamp of ‘world music’ does not apply here (or should anywhere really). This is quite simply a record for anyone ready to get down to some beautiful rhythms.

With a plethora of guest spots adding some serious variety to the already sonically multifarious album, hearing Big Boi go back and forth with the likes of Kurupt, Snoop Dogg, Eric Bellinger, and even Adam Levine of Maroon 5, makes it all the more fun.

Eight of these nine tracks constitute the best album for night driving under city street-lights since Growler's estimable ‘City Club’.

Never deviating from course, Sugar At The Gate adds one more stitch to the tightly-wrapped DNA that makes TOPS so immersive and enjoyable, its ten glossy songs bearing all the marks of a band that has taken yet another step toward mastering their craft.

All ten tracks, and their accompanying dub allies, have the presence and sound to claim dancehalls by the fistful.

A fine goodbye filled with easy charm and style.

At times Wolves' polished, pop-tinged punk sounds more like a proffered Pepsi can than a clenched Molotov cocktail, but it is still punk to its bones in a time when the label tends to be skin-deep.

The dirges are ditched, yet the previous elements they made their name with are overdone.

This is a beautiful album that’s as absorbing as it is emotionally affecting.

The final result is a debut album brimming with confidence, confidence not only in Lipa’s own voice and her eye for a chorus, but in the emotive quality of her lyrics.

They’ve created something quite distinct from their former work. In this regard, Relaxer places them firmly back on track.

A fun and colourful indie album full of pop sensibilities, Different Days is a joy from start to finish and is further indication that Tim Burgess and co. show no sign of stopping.

I Used To Spend So Much Time Alone sees the Seattle group recede deeper into their comfort zone with a batch of tracks that are lukewarm at best.

As a musique concrète or experimental electronica album, Burials In Several Earths is an above average attempt that contains myriad intricacies and points of interest. As something to carry on a peerless lineage, however, it feels like an unnecessary move.

In short, it’s a low-key gem.

Presenting a portfolio of some of the best ‘rawk’ songs 2017 has to offer, The Amazons have remained consistent and have begun to embed themselves into the rich tapestry of rock ‘n’ roll with a bolshy stadium sound. If it ain’t broke...

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

Much like the show itself this is a wonderfully crafted set (check out the deluxe ‘condiment’ vinyl), which is at times both smart, sweet and very, very, stupid.

This time, reckless abandon is replaced by forced jollity and the vibe turns from head trip to school trip.

The act-to-act cohesion is seamless, as is the recreation of rigid techno militancy, and should be met with at least one bouquet brought to the stage.

Originally whittled down from 40 songs Williams had penned from a jumble of sample-led ideas, You’re Welcome nonetheless features Wavves proverbial fuzzy guitar distortions and surf vibes, but includes his explorative forays into ‘70s psychedelia from South America, Cambodian pop and his obsession of ‘50s doo-wop.

United States Of Horror is wired on a different kind of anger--these tracks seethe with violence and disgust, raging at dark political orders, economic inequality, racial tension and fractured society.

Live up to the hype? The short answer is ‘yes.’ The slightly longer answer is ‘yes, but not as you’d expect it to.’ Funnily enough, the record packs something of a slow burn effect.

With his debut, Styles manages to escape the notorious curse of former boy banders, turned leading men, creating an immersive, reference-fuelled tribute to classic rock for the millennial generation.

Compiled by Nick Cave and founding member Mick Harvey, the three-disc editions offer 45 tracks to explore the thrilling journey of one of the planet’s most uncompromising and enigmatic groups. All your standards are here.

As an album, it must be said, Gargoyle never truly coalesces. The distance between the bright, ethereal shoegaze sound and Lanegan’s dirty, earthbound voice is just too great to be reconciled (although 'Nocturne' does come incredibly close). But just because two compounds don’t mix doesn't mean they can't form something beautiful together.

Ásgeir's music is far too complex and interesting to start writing off as advert fodder. There's a depth to his work that deserves to be burrowed into.

Forest Swords was already becoming quickly respected for his deftness of touch when dealing with both musical and emotional tone. Compassion demonstrates he is very capable of weaving them together until they are intrinsically entwined.

It seems to fall between two stools, not supplying enough arena-filling arrogance while never truly indulging the more surprising elements of their record collections.

The group feel more at home with the methodology of early prog or post-punk, with a sense of the abstract rippling beneath those crystalline waves of perfect sound. Shine on, you diamonds.

Emerging from the murk and into the new-found quiet of middle age, Feist’s Pleasure is a document of stark beauty that’s entirely and unequivocally her own.

Intimate and endearingly honest, This Old Dog is Mac DeMarco’s most essential chapter of slacker gospel yet.

Most of the tracks’ narratives are undecipherable and consistently scatterbrained. Not to mention that the panoramic mixing of the guitars, while being a band trademark, make it difficult to focus on more than one aspect of a song at a time.

Overall No Shape sees a new exciting chapter for Perfume Genius, one that’s happy to fully throw off the image of the tortured artist for brighter, bolder entity. The future looks a little brighter.

Running at 16 full-length tracks, Strength of A Woman can seem overindulgent. Songs that are enjoyable in isolation, or as a smaller subset, become either repetitive or forgettable in the context of the whole.

Tthe songwriting is strong without being spectacular, and John Congleton’s production offers clarity but is somewhat lacking in edge.

This is the sound of a questing spirit pushing at the parameters of unlimited freedom, a hand reaching out to grasp infinity and not falling far short.

They have created their most youthful album yet; a vibrant record which paints a picture of the near future so vivid it seems convincingly real.

DAMN. does at times feel contradictory and the ideas he’s transmitting at times don’t feel fully formed, but this is where its genius lies. Kendrick offers a true snapshot of the eternal debates that we host inside our heads, and there is immense bravery and artistry in his depiction.

This record can be the perfect soundtrack to slacking in the sun or it can be deconstructed, stripped of its intricacies and analysed in great depth, allowing for new discoveries even on the 20th listen--and it’s this diversity that proves why Splashh are not a drop in the ocean.

Season High is a pleasant ride--a breezy escapade through dreamlands and ultraviolet meadows. It’s a sometimes sickly-sweet concoction that’ll leave you once or twice with the feeling of overindulgence.

A record that fits neatly in to the Maxïmo Park canon, while seeking to distance itself from it subtly.

This album deserves your attention and is a perfect example of a group accomplishing and exceeding their full potential.

Singers aside, we have those subtle harmonies drenching every song, sparkles of synth, strings and flute, and those sunrise drums lifting everything. It’s utterly gorgeous and the best bits of Midlake still shine through.

The album perhaps sags a little in towards the later stages--weighed down by the claustrophobic washes of sound. But as a whole, it compliments the rest of their back catalogue well.

Booming walls of sound are favoured at the expense of nuance, leaving Belong too regularly thirsting for a banner hit, and ultimately, offering a perfect example of why bigger isn’t always better.

Double Roses takes what worked the first time round, namely Elson’s gentle vocals and passion for the pastoral and forlorn, and amplifies the whole package with greater musicianship and composition.

Longevity is often characterised by reinvention in music, yet The Ride stalls in its attempted inventiveness, instead finding success in its most pared down and familiar moments.

Employing a dense rack of synths, the opening tracks establish a slightly chaotic fug that the record gradually emerges from. And, once its found its feet, the album treads a pretty glorious path.

Although refreshing, visceral and completely understandable--when listening to the whole LP, the political themes are occasionally overwhelming.