At times challenging, at others familiar and accessible, it demonstrates that 30 years after their debut album, Stereolab continue to surprise and reward, their unabating influence threading through every recess of left-of-centre modern music. Perhaps Stereolabesque is a fair term after all.

The record is the most realised and singularly minded vision yet from the Moor Mother project, a documentation of venomous rage, yes, but also one in search of a means of escape, one found through the redemptive power of community.

The only maturity in their sound is towards a more ambient quarter. Elevator music not quite, but rising out of the background might be an issue.

Fade finds YLT at their most wistfully contemplative; a thought only softened by the paradox that this might just be one of their best yet.

Heavy is the Head absolutely hits it out of the park. It’s the same winning mix of grime bangers and radio friendly singing as last time, but, crucially, it’s better at making sure they work together on the same project. 16 tracks might seem like a lot, but when almost every one is a classic, it’s so hard to care.

Pushing 50 Iron & Wine proves he still has much to say in a hypnotic record full of lush production, highlighting the warmth and timelessness of his vocals. If not one necessarily to win over new fans, this will delight longtime fans who have been along for the ride.

This album is, to be clear, an ambitious, stylish, coherent work of fine art. ‘Tranquility Base…’ grew on me, this may too. But I can’t help but feel that with ‘The Car’, Arctic Monkeys have taken a wrong turn.

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.

A magnificent aural topography of Kaitlyn Aurelia Smith’s inspired imagination.

From ‘Stuck in the mud’ to ‘What you Reckon’, Digga D is quick and snappy, delivering lyrics that push you to listen again and again. With the confidence that knows he is a star ( he raps ‘I’m as hard as Stromzy and Dave, what a statement to make but I say what I say and I mean it’), Digga D proves he is greater than just another rapper. He is an icon.

‘WeirdOs’ is one of the finest debut albums I’ve heard in a LONG time. It delivers more than the promise of their debut 7” ‘OGO’ and the ‘Slice’ EP suggested. The songs are absolute chonks.

Where other emo bands might dramatise the horrors and wonders of death, American Football evokes its totality as a comfort, an ending whose completeness leaves nothing to fear. In the process, they’ve crafted another work of startling, very human beauty.

There are some real moments of beauty on the record - 'In Blur' aches and sparkles, whilst singles 'Great Mass Of Colour' and 'The Gnashing' showcase a band adept at building beautiful soundscapes even with the guitars turned down - but at a certain point, the album suffers from the lack of depth in Clarke’s vocals, or range in his melodies.

Enchanting and illuminating, ‘everything is alive’ proves that Slowdive’s pulse is still beating strong.

Earl Sweatshirt is telling truths rather than forging fantasy, and Doris is a disturbed and penetrating journey into the mind of the boy that came back from Samoa.

On ‘Fearless Movement’ he’s made something that doesn’t feel overpowering to begin with. Less is definitely more and the songs here pack more of a punch than anything he’s released so far.

[Gibbs] expertly negotiates Madlib’s minefield, forcefully popping words off the producer’s gorgeously mined snares and snatched vocal loops.

‘Ramona Park…’ was a bravura work of therapy, a rap bildungsroman that crafted an entire world. More insular, ‘Dark Times’ is in many ways less accessible; that said, it refuses to let the quality dim, it’s endless stream of ideas enticing and perplexing in equal fashion. In emphatic style, rap’s foremost outlier demands your attention all over again.

The 24 year old wrote, arranged and produced this album all by herself. The work of an immensely talented melodic mastermind, Laetitia Tamko's second album touches on the magical.

‘Cool It Down’ feels defined, succinct in a way that suggests complete confidence – it’s also a weakness. A smidge over 30 minutes, and with only eight songs, it already has you yearning for what might come next.

Clements and Griffiths have sculpted something truly special out of their final time with their friend and, while too late for all of the numerous lists, it deserves to be held up as one of the most affecting and impressive releases of a difficult year.

Romare sets out to bring in elements of his distinct sound from across his career always combining it with something fresh and invigorating. The fact that all of these elements come together into such an approachable and restrained album is quite impressive.

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

A testament to vehement artistry, ‘On Sunset’ finds Paul Weller refusing to let his fire dim.

Forceful and atmopsheric, ‘From A King To A God’ punches through the glass ceiling, its purposeful swagger leering out of the speakers. His third full length project in 2020, ‘Conway The Machine has hit escape velocity.

It’s contagious joy to hear players with such abandon and intuition, braiding their lines together.

An excellent debut record, it offers a tantalising glimpe of what lies ahead.

Every track demonstrates a beauty in the everyday; in the mundane; in our reality. And combining such observations with the sweeping sounds of orchestral talent and acoustic guitar, the end result, of the combination of these juxtaposing complex and simple elements, is one that feels familiar.