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.

John Glacier had often considered herself as ‘particular’, and someone who knew exactly what she wanted, and with her latest body of work, the artist is moving forward in this exceptional journey taking her to exactly where her mind has manifested itself to.

‘Praise…’ feels like a completed maze, a finite and full creation, and cements Tumor as an extraordinary explorer.

Oh My God is Kevin Morby’s attempt at crafting his own post-modern American Songbook. The sound of a succinct vision--executed precisely as intended.

She's brilliant, sometimes inspired, and this tenth studio album finds her gifts undiminished.

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.

‘the apple tree under the sea’ isn’t just going to be one of the year’s best debuts, but one of the year’s best records, full stop.

The Portland-based psych-rock outfit’s second album is an absolute triumph.

Offering up a mix of pop, hip-hop, R&B and a sprinkling of trap and neo soul for good measure, Lizzo covers all bases and serves the perfect introduction to her world for mainstream audiences.

‘Goldstar’ has all the ingredients needed to propel the six-piece outfit into the mainstream, whether they like it or not. Thrillingly weird and wonderful.

They’ve come out the other end with a truly talismanic record that will live long in the memory for any who experience it.

This isn’t mere voguish reinvention but a masterful insertion into the most indecipherable of back catalogues, and its reliably mutable, endlessly wandering creator.

This album serves up Summer Walker’s best work yet. It’s brutal, yet romantic, it’s fun, yet flirty, it’s everything any listener could be wanting. A rollercoaster of emotions and she’s not even finished yet.

‘Endlessness’ is a remarkable record, a project that borrows from dozens of voices while communicating in only one. Somehow eclipsing the magic inherent in her debut, ‘Endlessness’ finds Nala Sinephro operating in a creative universe of her own.

It’s not as shiny as ‘Nevermind’, nor as raucous as ‘Bleach’; it’s not as sensibly realised as it would have been has DGC had entirely their own way, but nor does it completely kick against Cobain and company’s prior achievements.

He draws on the many splintered facets of UK rap – and other sonic traits besides – while somehow transcending them. Literate, wise, and emotionally devastating, ‘We’re All Alone In This Together’ places Dave at the absolute pinnacle of British music.

A dystopian masterpiece.

He sounds freer than ever. ‘The House Is Burning’ subverts expectations. ... Rashad’s music is like a sonic encyclopaedia of Southern rap reference points.

[Gloss Drop] is one of the most startling, visually emotive albums we've heard in years. Vividly audacious.

It's heavy, but so very beautiful.

Thankfully, they’ve saved their finest ideas for Tomorrow’s Harvest, which burns as brightly as anything they have accomplished thus far

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.

As his main band disappears into "indefinite hiatus", console yourself with the knowledge that Birgisson has just made the best record of his career.

‘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.

There is just Nick Cave, stripped to the bone and robbed of a future. It’s impossible to turn away.

Imposing on first listen, ‘From The Private Collection Of Saba And No ID’ is packed with detail. Both artists have stratospherically high standards, leaving some to wonder how this would work – reaching to perfection, Saba and No ID have conjured something magical.

What will keep you coming back to Film Festival is a profound desire to dissect further, to unpack the lyrical and instrumental proficiency to such a degree you feel so in on the joke that Mike and Paul aren’t just collaborators and flawless music makers to you, they’re friends.

Dublin in the rain belongs to Fontaines D.C., and rather than being too real this album is just right, it is a ragged delivery. The trick lies in the seemingly un-filtered rawness combined with its stark poetic reality. The three components help secure this album’s position as an example of authenticity; authenticity in its most concentrated and truest form and expression.