While this sonic nonchalance means it can lack singularity and impact, Parallels feels like an organic and necessary evolution for Chung, his affinity for dense, hazy, dreamlike production still as mind-altering as ever.

Maya Hawke plays with vulnerability and honesty throughout ‘MOSS’, creating a compelling, delicate and melancholic listen.

Taylor’s brilliantly bonkers pop odyssey certainly lives up to its title and ultimately, is an impressive, if uneven addition to his already stellar discography.

It’s just sad to hear the spark of reinvention that ignited their last powder keg of an album confined to a handful of tracks on a largely mediocre album. They can do better. They have done better. They will do better again.

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.

Not an unqualified success but worth your consideration.

Ambitious, anthemic and at times, gut wrenchingly emotional, At Hope’s Ravine is a staggering piece of work.

At times brooding, at times impossibly bubbling with light joy, this is a release that highlight Mattiel’s musical abilities - easily able to drop one sound for another at a moment’s notice, and doing it all with absolute class.

‘Just Look At That Sky’ doesn’t presume to offer solutions; it’s an honest document of what it feels like to wade through anxiety, day by day, not a survival guide or handbook of answers none of us actually have.

Short and to the point, ‘L.A. Times’ is a succinct example of Travis’ musicality. A mixed bag, it’s held together by feverish energy, and some of the band’s mainstays – the emotional curiosity, the willingness to think outside the box, and those empathetic vocals. A real charmer.

Orbital’s revised sound sees them cement themselves at the forefront of electronic music.

As solo records go, Mayberry’s first is fun and often touching, but like many before, it is trying to find its identity.

Alpha divides its time between striking out, tempering aggression and giving time to think and go deeper, walking the line between something to respect and invest in. For a producer with as marked an evolution as Dear, that’s pretty clear cut.

From the zany club outings of his 2010 to 2011 releases with Night Slugs to the more restrained and conceptualised LPs of recent years, each record has been a milestone in the development of this most remarkable musician--his latest album being no exception.

The project finds Lil Durk facing up to his faults, and owning them, while never abandoning the landscapes that framed him. At times hugely inspired, the intensity of the experience will leave you breathless.

The songs are trite punk workouts without any real imagination and, whilst there's a reasonable amount of endeavour and vigour, they're unlikely to raise anything other than idle curiosity amongst the curious idle.

It’s a dispiriting affair--a mishmash of glam rock, lad rock and heavier indie rock that fails to ignite.

Their third album in as many years, JJ continue to gather a pace and 'No.3' will surely propel them further into hearts and minds.

Allowing each artist to dominate the tracks in their own way, Girl Unit has curated a project so personal and progressive it’s no wonder he’s made us wait so long.

The endless experimentation can grate but ‘Fight Softly’ is a bold attempt to further stretch pop music.

Swift’s unencumbered analysis of the tectonic shifts within her personal and public life are equal parts razor sharp and self-indulgent. But as a pop album, Reputation is never revolutionary, the adrenalin rush heady but ultimately short-lived.

‘Spell My Name’ [boasts] moments of rich maturity, the kind of lyrical openness that has always made her work so intriguing. Yet there’s also an unwillingness to embrace contemporary movements in R&B, in the manner of, say, Brandy’s recent LP.

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.

In no way throwaway, this is a trip.

There’s still plenty to admire here, especially Gracie’s emotionally raw, brittle vocals and despite the record’s shortcomings, this remains a solid, entertaining debut from an exciting new talent.

There are strong highlights across the set, despite this, the failure to be concise forms part of the force's biggest downfalls.

An impressive debut album which will both enlighten and entertain.

A record that thrives on subtlety, ‘Screen Time’ is engaging but never simple, its quiet complexities taking time to truly unfurl amid Thurston Moore's painterly landscapes.

A helter skelter 11 track run-through, ‘Cuts & Bruises’ retains everything that made INHALER’s debt so effective while adding some excellent new elements.

Blink remain true to form, even throwing in a few sub-1 minute swearword screamers, but with the band back together and continuing to go through life, it seems their form is grounded in something firmer.

There’s still a fair amount of self indulgence, and the rare occasion on which you wish he’d stuck to the old habit of micro length tracks (‘HER’ being one such example), but on the whole it’s a well selected body of work.

[Fragrant World] is a further evolution of the band's interests in Eighties electro and contemporary R&B.

Simultaneously depressing and uplifting, evil and camp, it's an inspiring, majestic paradox of an album.

It all feels a bit too calculated at times, though when he ventures into the realms of floral Kinks-y psych pop on 'Mystic Mile' or the slack Beach-Boys-via-Mac-Demarco style surf of 'Never Gonna Hold You Like I Do', there's a promising glimmer of the discrete and intrepid artist he could be.

Calling this 'No Waves' suggests a symbolic sympatico bond between the duo, best evidenced by the graceful way that Gordon and Nace hone in on controlling this beautiful racket with apparent ease.

Here Come The Bombs' is fresh and stylish and marks Coombes' finest work in over a decade. A triumph.

Catchy melodies abound in an eclectic, engaging effort.

Anthems For Doomed Youth will bring more joy to the fans than the naysayers may suspect.

It’s by no means a bad record, but won’t be the trap pioneer’s most memorable either.

‘A Beautiful Revolution Pt. 2’ stares down the traumas that proliferate our lives, offering hope, creativity, and soul filtered through Common’s profound hip-hop vision.

It’s an eclectic mix, and the quality’s as variable as the sound. But by jumping from style to style, and showcasing artists who really ought to be better known, Snoop keeps the party as scrumptiously enjoyable as his recipe for Spaghetti de la Hood. And that’s all he’s really trying to do.

Occasionally Jaga Jazzist paint themselves into a corner--the ending of the title track plucks an earlier riff out of nowhere and it feels a little like they took the easy way out--but Starfire is never anything less than thrilling.

Fans looking for a haphazard exercise in DIY should revisit the band's earlier effort, but will nonetheless be greatly rewarded by this deftly crafted slacker opus.

She’s brought herself to the very edge creatively, and the resulting album is stunning. She has earned this moment of glorious reflection.

With the veteran experimentalists on a self-imposed hiatus--and now a drummer light--Not Music offers a stopgap if not a final full stop to a kaleidoscopic career.

Favouring shamelessly blokey call-and-response hooks and not averse to "woos" and "woah-woah-woahs", these tales of love chased, lost and briefly enjoyed are delivered with an infectious enthusiasm and blessed with production by Edwyn Collins.

Heavily indebted to ‘90s indie pop but never boringly reverential - it’s the sound of a band mining the past into a vibrant future.

At times soft, at other times thick with sinew, 'Not In Chronological Order' allows Julia Michaels to parade her immense talent as a songwriter, as well as her charismatic, oh-so-expressive voice.

Uplifting, invigorating ‘The Resurrection Of Rust’ offers a warm boost down memory lane in one way, while the modern times filter gives the record intricacy, and it is one to check out.

The album shows The Cult taking their musicality, sonic tricks and experience to a new place, still retaining their identity, and this can only be a good thing.

A collection that is deeply reverential to the Americanised folk music form, and which also gratefully repays the debt that Rufus Wainwright owes it.

Somewhere between the elongated delivery of Joanna Newsom and the peculiarly soulful croak of Karen Dalton, this is a clear case of the voice as an additional instrument.

His inspired wordplay is consistently great and occasionally brilliant.

Typically rich, but this time, a playful outing.

It’s an accomplished if somewhat safe set of songs; a JoJo on the cusp of finding her range.

It’s a beautiful album, and it’s the sound of a band realising they can finally do anything they want with sound.

These charmingly often positive tales are inspiring, yet it’s the combined nature which the producing delivers that makes this album shine.

The resulting work is cracked but compelling, a real warts and all record that slaloms its way between moments of breathtaking romance and ugly reality. Occasionally its composition feels scrappy or unfinished, but this doesn’t particularly mar the experience of listening to it.

A refined 10 song document that cycles through moods and tones, ‘This Is Really Going To Hurt’ is perhaps the finest example yet of Flyte’s undoubted artistry, and offers yet more proof that they remain one of the country’s most underrated groups.

PINS still have a long way to go, but they've essentially done what few bands achieve on their second album: made a record more focused and measured while retaining rawness and negating the use of effusive production.

An engaging album devoid of stagnancy.

Existing in a different realm to ‘Chromatica’, it’s testament to Lady Gaga’s astonishing breadth, and the timeless effervescence of Tony Bennett.

Wasted Daylight, a sugary, ambient number, offers a particularly sublime performance from Millan, as does He Dreams He's Awake, of Campbell. However, these two are the fairly obvious highlights in an otherwise misfired effort.

It’s a slow burner - a passable Twin Peaks album that could, with time, become a great Twin Peaks album, but as of now, we haven’t quite gotten there yet.

While they still don't quite seem to be the finished article, there's plenty of promise.

He’s managed to successfully replicate the feeling of genuine emotion and human connection that drew listeners to him and his music on his first album, with his second likely to be just as prosperous.

From infectious single ‘Ego’ and to sobering dream pop song ‘Connect The Dots’, his determination to look for solace beyond right and wrong is palpable. We believe he is riddled with guilt – and that is a testament to Solomon’s talent. By comparison, the second half of ‘Uneasy Laughter’ is almost void of internal conflict, even if it remains melodically accomplished.

So the bleakly beautiful is still there, but the flashes are sporadic.

It’s a record littered with towering pop peaks.

Ogilala is nothing particularly new or revolutionary for fans, more a strong reminder that there’s a reason why Corgan managed to shift millions of units with his brand of moody rock.

Everybody’s Everything is a well-rounded tribute showcasing every aspect of Lil Peep. Not only highlighting an upsetting loss in the music industry but setting the bar for emo-trap; a sound that can often come across as gimmicky, this album exceeds our expectations and is a righteous example of Lil Peep’s art.

It is an album produced on it’s own terms, that should be considered on it’s own terms. Judged as such, 'Human Energy' is a successful document of an artist enjoying his life, his work and more generally his own company.

Their alt.folk stylings are ideal for unwinding to at the end of a long day as it calms and soothes the senses.

Criminally under exposed.

So par for the course, it should come with its own small pencil and scorecard.

A damaged but delightful long-player, then, perfect for fans of Daughter and Camera Obscura.

These are gloriously creative songs.

The whole set comes off like a collection of Future songs--with some Drake verses clumsily tacked on as an afterthought.

When it’s good, it’s very, very good, but for most of the time it’s really quite bland.

The story of Icarus is one of tragedy, but there’s only signs of success within this offering as ZAYN begins the journey to realising his full potential.

Megadoze is a singular and esoteric collection of songs. It works equally well when played at an obscene volume to people giddy with excitement or when you are mooching about town and want to get lost in something to take you mind of the mundanity of urban living, or for that quiet and reflective cup of tea when you get in after a big night out.

Lennox updates that balance struck between squelchy abstraction and clarity, which is--in the main--an immersive experience.

With echoes of everything from PIXIES to Declan McKenna, what Lang lacks in refinement he makes up for in a very obvious encylopedic knowledge of guitar music. His ambition and obsession with producing more cosmic chords will, with no doubt, make his second full-length a more radical, enjoyable listen.

Finessed and unified, ‘Enigmatic Society’ is magnificent, a micro-masterpiece that refuses to be pigeonholed. Free-thinking yet direct, it’s a salute to collaborative art, and the geniuses behind it.

A record with a message that is so authentically her that almost has no other way but to convey a bright but somewhat melancholic future.

Some of the punkier elements of old are fighting with the grandeur aims of the future. At a time when a new generation of artists is doing inventive things to revitalise guitar music once more, two minutes of snot-nosed punk riffs don’t hold the same sway they once did.

It’s a wonderful record, one to wrestle with, one that lingers at odd moments of the day and night. Allow it to seek you out.

With echoes of Lou Reed in many of the tracks, including ‘What Makes Him Act So Bad’ and ‘Cigarette Burns Forever’, and faint hints of Green’s previous work with the Peaches in others - ‘Oh Shucks’ - ‘Minor Love’ sees Green marry his roots with the new directions he’s taking, and comparison to the tape recorder fodder of old isn’t so hard make anymore.

The feel is consistently of an eerie twilight, perched high above a near-future city.

It’s the sound of ‘60s experimentation smashed stunningly into the present day.

By reshaping the packaging of her thoughts and anxieties, West hasn’t swapped her lyrics for carefree, blissed-out pop anthems about a wonderful life. ‘Heaven 2’ and its outlier single ‘Arrow’, along with its music video, show that even under high-energy pop rhythms, you can still find yourself dancing alone in a parking lot at night.

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

An emphatic show of force that frequently taps into outright brilliance. As an album it's not without fault, but as a cultural event it's largely without peer.

[The album] adds - for the most part - a more expansive dimension to their sound.

Taught and lean, bold and mean, Blood Red Shoes are fighting fit and Fire Like This might just be their knock-out punch.

Still confused but back on form, The Streets' final album (Skinner wants to make a film) sees a return to garage beats and square-eyed observations from a life staring at pixels on screens.

Listened to while watching Georges Méliès suitably trippy sci-fi spectacle, it makes for a brief, but enchanting, experience.

Interiors is an expansive, fiercely intelligent investigative work.