Unfailingly imaginative, her return offers another vital chapter in her unfailingly riveting career.

Athena isn’t just an album to be listened to, it’s to be experienced. While this is arguably true of all music, this album is filled with deeply textured soundscapes that feel contemporary but also from the not-too-distant future.

Works of art like these elevate us beyond the material world, if only for an afternoon, and for that Holter remains worth her weight in gold.

A hugely impressive achievement, ‘I’ve Been Trying To Tell You’ is technically exquisite, while remaining incredibly difficult to pin down. A project to bathe in, rather than simply enjoy.

With an expansive tone that ‘Vol. I’ lacks, this is an addictive, clever, and primal magnum opus that refuses tropes and easy predictions, going far beyond the niche of fiddly psychedelia Angine De Poitrine’s viral following came from.

A record bursting with artistic emotion and vulnerable resilience.

Despite the sadness that clearly surrounds this project there is plenty of positivity: the production of the album is impeccable, and the overwhelming message that shines through is of hope for the future.

uknowhatimsayin succeeds in flipping our expectations of a Danny Brown album, delivering a project that’s masterfully produced and exquisitely executed.

It's glittering and electronic, its lyrics and title inspired by Owain Owain's dystopian science fiction novel, and its melodies underpinned with discordant notes and bric-à-brac sonic oddities--but it shares a similarly subversive edge to that record.

Fragile yet utterly destructive, this wolf in sheep’s clothing will hurl you five ways and leave you hovering over a bleak abyss. In a great way, obviously.

It’s honest, dark, funny, tragic, moving and incredibly catchy. This is PUP’s finest album to date. No easy job. At its heart this is a slow descent into self-destruction. And we feel all the better for it.

'Cruel Country' is neither ironic, nor frivolous: it’s a sprawling double-album that stands as one of Wilco’s best, an ever-moving meditation on the quest for connection in a country that’s often cruel but always worthy, in Tweedy’s eyes, of forgiveness.

From the delighted cheers of the fans to the simple message of ‘merci’ from Sleater-Kinny themselves Live In Paris is the sound of band who--frequently under-rated, sometimes unjustly ignored--have found a room of their own. This is their time.

A body of work that will bring more comfort to longtime fans of his like a big fat hug around the middle, it’s packed with enough pop chops to rattle stadium floors, and dominate the kitchen radios of the casual listener for a while to come yet.

It’s clear Danny is dealing with some demons, but his issues don’t dampen the mood.

This is space tourism, flying first class.

‘42.26’ - unmasked as the previously released ‘Feels Like Summer’ - and ‘47.48’ (which features his son Legend Glover) are the only other enjoyable tracks on the project. The other songs seem to fade and ultimately becomes background noise with no proper substance compared to Donald Glover’s other projects. Lacking the strong narrative thrust so apparent on his past albums, the project is incredibly disappointing.

On ‘Lifetime’ she masterfully connects her eras, looping back, editing and upgrading the sound of rapture she’s cultivated through time. On ‘Lifetime’, she’s finally arrived at the sound of sweet surrender.

An album is soulful consistency, ‘Sincerely,’ luxuriates in diamond-tinted sound.

Working versions under soon-to-be-changed titles, these sparse arrangements are more than just sketched outlines. Stripped down to their rawest nerve, unfiltered yet purified - they transport us straight to the feeling.

Driven by demons and fired by fury, 'Blunderbuss' is a turbulent insight into one man's wrath - but it rocks. Hard.

In its relentless fixation upon youth Light Upon The Lake seems to have stumbled across the timeless.

It's a masterpiece.

'Universal Credit' shows great potential, but its drop in momentum in the first half marks it as a project that hasn’t quite lived up to its own standards. Regardless, choice tracks on 'Universal Credit' mark Jeshi as a musician willing to be different and to speak with conviction.

Mightily impressive.

Overall, the album does a fantastic job of showing us where Lou Reed was in 1965.

A hard-hitting pop exposition, it frequently feels daring, while also providing an endless supply of hooks.

It’s messy and weird and colourful and completely unhinged, but that doesn’t mean that it’s not beautiful, in its own singular and undeniably innovative manner.

‘Mommy’ is not an evolution for Be Your Own Pet, it is an affirmation that despite the passing of time, we can still be just as vital as our former selves.

That it’s been executed so flawlessly is testament to the musicians involved; acting both as fuel for this summer’s arena shows and an artistic work in its own right, ‘More’ perfectly meets the brief of what a Pulp record should sound like in 2015.

Nao is entirely galactic on this record--there is an omnipresent sensation of otherness throughout the album. Whether it be in the trademark effluvient vocal or in the consistently atmospheric and glistening instrumental, Saturn is spacial.

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.

Hot Sauce Committee Part Two is probably the third best Beastie Boys album ever made. And that is not a pejorative. Boggle!

‘Whatever The Weather is fortunately distinctly Loraine James; an unexpected new step of diverse experiments, and a perfect companion to a spring as of yet undecided on showing its face.

The most impressive thing about this large-scale (in terms of both musicianship as well as time) collection, particularly given its improvisatory nature, is that it never tests your patience. The final five tracks are least impressive, but the earlier stuff, particularly in the first half, are spell-binding.

Mad and all-consuming, this is music for disillusioned youth with enough wry wordplay to back it up. In all its angst and menace, you can't help but feel liberated.

That the groove will be locked down is never in question. Silk Sonic are gonna do what Silk Sonic are gonna do. The only question is whether you or the unnamed love interest are joining them. And you should. 'An Evening With Silk Sonic' is a real good time.

‘Sour’ is the sound of a bold talent operating on their own terms – potent in its execution, revealing in its lyricism, it’s a record that finds Olivia Rodrigo effortlessly claiming her status as pop’s newest icon, and one of its bravest voices.

Gone is the Primary Colours influences of Portishead's Geoff Barrow, or the punchy impatience of Strange House, and in that place stands an intellectually collective five-piece, fully immersed in the confidence of their own astonishing abilities.

‘As The Love Continues’ is Mogwai at their best, and is possibly their most consistent record since 2006's ‘Mr Beast’. Their mums should be proud.

A very welcome return.

While he’ll probably never eclipse the flaming star that is label boss FlyLo’s reputation, Bruner here shows that he’s both his collaborator and peer, fusing a multi-genre musical mentality with a brilliantly sharp edge of accessibility.

A broader, more nuanced experience than 2018 ‘Daytona’, Pusha T still reins in the creativity across the album’s 12 track span. Succinct and finessed, ‘It’s Almost Dry’ is a riveting journey, from first to last.

Their most confident and assured release filled with the promise of things to come. One for you wicked souls out there.

Young Fathers possess that which makes the best British acts truly special: a singular identity born of multinational mixology.

The record is not without some brighter moments and a celebration of unconditional love on ‘Thread So Thin’ and ‘Your Side’.

A quality accompaniment and memorial.

Showing clear progression and monumental ambition, TNP have crafted a stark and dense knockout performance.

The woozy title track seems deliberately designed to unsettle the listener at the halfway point of an album that is in turns both richly emotive and beguilingly, bewitchingly uneasy.

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.

With 'The Return', Sampa The Great expertly dismantles the notion of genre, proving that, when it comes to art, what really matters is content, not labels.

A thrilling, needle-to-the-red experience, ‘What A Devastating Turn Of Events’ never sits in one place.

‘STARFACE’ has the confidence of an artist with far more renown like (dare I say!) Bowie or Prince. There isn’t much filler here, as each song leaps into 4D with a psychedelic, soulful soundscape that’ll take you to space.

Closing with the beatific ‘Ablaze’ – with sonic shades of John Martyn’s crepuscular ‘Small Hours’ – ‘Casade’ made lack the breathless ambition of Floating Points’ orchestral manoeuvres, but that’s not its purpose. A resetting of the dials, it transplants the producer from symphony hall to sweaty club, and that alone makes it truly vital.

A song cycle that touches on identity, loss, and the path through it all, it’s one marked by maturity and a growing awareness of the potency of her own talents.

Lykke Li seems to have made it work for her.

As Herbie Hancock so rightly put it, “jazz is about being in the moment” and jazz weaves through Nubya Garcia’s ‘Odyssey’. So, press play and sit back – close your eyes and soak it in.

Ethel Cain is the most important artist in the world right now, and finally she has the album to prove it.

Tiny Ruins’ effortlessly stunning lyricism and creative cohesiveness mean that ‘Ceremony’ does in fact hit the mark from start to finish.

This is a record that chafes at the furthest out fringes of guitar lexicon; respectful of her influences while seeking out individualistic plains, ‘Last Night I Heard The Dog Star Bark’ is something to set your compass by.

Kehlani can still be thorny and tempestuous but they’ve also never been more holistic and soulful than on ‘Blue Water Road’.

The vocals on the album are flawless, particularly for tracks such as ‘White Rooms And People’. ‘Outside’, is perhaps the quaintest offering on the album, but is immediately followed up by ‘Be My Guest’, an industrial offering that sends listeners into a frantic dervish.

The sound of a band resurgent, ‘Night Network’ will have you falling in love with The Cribs all over again. Tapping into their core sounds and core values, it finds the band emerging from their legal troubles triumphant, relishing the vitality of being able to make music together, in the same room, at the same time.

‘Laurel Hell’ is a big album that demands to be known, full of indie-pop wonders and most of her most moving ballads yet.

Together, this project might rank as a career high, a work of breathless yet intoxicatingly accessible complexity.

A beautiful recording but an occasional listen.

A world away from his genial role on Saturday Night Television, it’s a 12 strong song cycle that finds Tom Jones doing exactly as he pleases. It’s an extraordinary balancing act, another vital page in this remarkable ongoing chapter.

While no single track quite matches Four Tet's 'Love Cry', it's as good overall as his contemporary's recent 'There Is Love In You'.

It’s a slight, undemanding effort, and there’s charm to be found if you’re willing to meet the band halfway.

The album’s potential top-shelf contenders form a tight three-way tie between ‘Mike Tyson Blow to the Face’, ‘Chains & Whips’ with Kendrick Lamar, and ‘F.I.C.O.’ alongside Stove God Cooks. Clever use of a cappella negative space and boom-bap-style drums (‘M.T.B.T.T.F.’), lyrical density (‘Chains & Whips’) and boots-on-the-ground storytelling (‘F.I.C.O.’) make this trilogy stand as not only as some of Clipse’s strongest material, but also as some of Pharrell’s finest production in years.

‘Excuse Me’ takes us back to the heavy, aggressive punk sound of their viral debut single, while on ‘All In My Head’ they return to the sweeter pop-punk of their debut.

‘Same Kind of Lonely’ holds moments reminiscent of ‘Witness’ and his self-titled debut, while ‘Show and Tell’ stands playful in its sonic clarity. ‘Heavy On My Mind’ peels back the layers of Booker’s internalised truths, before rounding out on ‘Hope For The Night Time’, a ballad-esque piece that gives a final push into his dreamscape.

It’s this ability to navigate the humour among heartbreak, that makes Lime Garden so endearing to listen to.

‘Good Lies’ displays the strength of brotherhood, solidifying their position within the scene by cherishing childhood’s sweetness.

2009 has seen the emergence and critical success of other techno-pop bands, including The xx and Fever Ray, and Pantha du Prince plays into exactly this sort of intelligent, thoughtful, and in many ways uplifting music.

‘A Written Testimony’ is a biblical album for biblical times, with enough human flaws to make it imperfect.

Fitzpatrick latterly allows breathing space by lessening the intensity to a measly 85% or so; the beats keep rolling to a ubiquitous clatter of hi-hats until you’re flintstoning your dancing shoes and moving Zombie-like to the less than subliminal command of Session Restore’s ‘Speak Out’.

The firm foundation of the songs can be, at times, a little monotonous, a listening experience that not even the more jazzy guitar work can save. That being said, the band still oozes of swanky confidence.

The result is their lushest sounding project yet.

The best tracks on 'Haram' come together with crooked production that twitches with sharp samples and cuts, and AH’s billy woods and Elucid filling the space with pointed flows.

Not only is ‘I Came From Love’ the best album that Okumu has released but it’s one of the finest albums of the year so far.

It completes Amaarae’s transition from a fringe Alté artist to a future-pop icon in the making.

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.

A product of its time, it will unsettle and confuse you, and there are even moments that feel poignant. That is why they will be remembered as an important band, and this album a significant milestone in modern guitar music.

We're New Here is a psychedelic atlas with which we can all sonically voyage upon. A great way to start the year.

Black Country, New Road somehow remain just as essential as they were back then. It takes time to get your head around ‘Forever Howlong’, with its freeform song structures and heady arrangements — but if you allow yourself the space to unravel its secrets, you’ll be amply rewarded.

This is invigorating, wilful and wildly exuberant--and one senses an invitation to collaboration with David Byrne might be in the post.

In context and execution, Songs Of Praise is one of the most daring, scorching, seethingly intelligent, and at times downright funny British guitar albums to come our way in years.

A record of real depth, ‘Wall Of Eyes’ closes on a sombre note. Distinctive, melodic, and defined, ‘You Know Me’ doesn’t so much pull at the heartstrings as slice right through them, Thom Yorke’s voice dissolving into a mesh of strings. It’s a suitably potent moment to end the record on – poised and suggestive, it becomes a bridge from one phase, to something as yet uncharted.

Latin lamentations and oscillating interferences spin sinful tales of transgression and violation, with a flagellating undercurrent of austerity, to create an uneasy, intuitive, idiosyncratic masterpiece.

Her balladry is simple, sparse, unfeigned and unpretentious, and her torch songs smoulder like burning embers.

It’s romantic, existential, frantic, and disorganised, and that ultimately strange mix of tones, genres, and production all adds into a singular esthetic. Nonetheless, it’s hard to ignore its shortcomings, and it is all too easy to rue what might have been, as there are moments of brilliance here that are too often cut short by an unnecessary lull in artistic reinvention.

It’s not a perfect album by any means – I’m still torn on ‘Wretched’, whose anthemic chorus seems a little too eager to please, and ‘Cosigns’ is a little too spartan in its production. Nevertheless, it takes a wealth of creativity and guts to make an album as individual as this.

For the most part, although the record is not without its weaker moments, ‘Flow Critical Lucidity’ is a good reflection of Moore’s rare experience. A deep, if relatively short, listen which will reward repeat plays.

Confident, strident guitar music, it’s a record that blends hugely effective songwriting with wicked production values, granting their work a crisp 90s-adjacent sheen that refuses to sacrifice their raw live endeavours.

This album is purposely ambiguous. By omitting such boundaries, it offers a storyline recognisable to everyone. Love is universal!

The pacing can get interrupted somewhat by the sheer amount of skits on here, and a Jay Sean featuring ‘Any Day’ slams on the brakes mid-album, but other than that this is a tightly packed, lightning-quick swing at the racism of British society. Riz Ahmed might now be more famous for his acting, but he’s been making music since he was a teenager – and on this album, it shows.

'Few Good Things' picks up steam with 'Still', a reflective collaboration with 6lack and Smino, climaxing four songs later on 'If I Had a Dollar', the most melodically ambitious and emotionally evocative song on the album.