‘The Life Of A Showgirl’ has its moments, but lacks the consistency of Taylor’s recent work.

An immersive, innovative (bold, futuristic production tricks protrude like mountain peaks throughout) and affecting adventure, ‘purity ring’ is as emotionally gripping as any collection of music you’ll hear this year.

Ultimately, ‘Midnight Sun’ is Zara Larsson honing in on what she does best with laser focus: starry-eyed, joyous Scandi-pop built to ignite dancefloors as easily as festival sing-alongs.

The album feels like an amalgamation of its two predecessors; the rap energy from ‘Scarlet’ and pop punch from ‘Planet Her’.

When she leans into vocal layering and harmony, the record comes alive. And while the production is minimal, the clarity it affords her words makes every lyric land with intention.

Even with 30 tracks, there is rarely an uninteresting moment across three LPs. Fans of Wilco and Tweedy will lap this up no doubt, and far from being throwaway, there is a sense of urgency and purpose throughout.

That’s what makes Geese’s work so exciting: uncompromising, they look steadily forwards, pushing at the seams of what their sound can do.

‘Saving Grace’ is intimate, emotional and transcendental, a warm mosaic of blues, alt-country and folk storytelling that reawakens the spirit of roots music that has been sympathetically reimagined through the clarity of a modern lens.

The self-described “cowboy gothic” leaves the album’s listening experience in a state of assurance that SPRINTS have not crumbled under the pressure of the success of their first album.

An unusual, beguiling collaboration, you hope it’s the first chapter in this duet, and not the last.

A muted gem, Joanne Robertson’s restraint sees ‘Blurrr’ reach fresh heights.

In some ways, this record feels like an impressive painting that charms you from the very first glance – without a cause, connecting with your mind on a subconscious level.

‘Juniper’ is a playful, exploratory and incredibly clever record – dealing with themes ranging from falling in love, mental health, music industry critique, politics, and self-love.

It’s a good effort in their catalogue with some shining moments, but it’s unlikely to invite those in who aren’t already fans of the band.

The new album presents songs of confession, reflection, wit, heartache and true crime in a new yet distinctive way.

It’s a record that at first curiously struggles to find its footing, before an assured mid-section guides Cardi B to the next level of her career.

With ‘Soak’ Black Honey are at their most fully fledged, brandishing a sword against the darker sides of society while still allowing time to reflect inwards in moments of raw introspection.

Always accompanied by her impressive soulful vocals, Lola Young wholeheartedly bares her soul on this album, leaving no stone unturned and no topic unaddressed.

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.

While some greatest hits collections can feel like cheap cash grabs, this feels like a reminder of why fans fell in love with Hot Chip in the first place. If you’re looking for an album of synth floor fillers, this will certainly do the job and some.

It is one of The Divine Comedy’s finest records and it draws from many of the most powerful elements of his musical instincts in support of a welcome emotional wallow.

For every Beyoncé, there’s a Michelle Williams. For every Harry Styles, there’s a Niall Horan. There’s no doubt this is a good record but only time will tell which side of the road JADE will land on.

A comforting, cathartic playground for disco, funk and cross-genre collabs, Sophie Ellis-Bextor comes into her own on ‘Perimenopop’.

While ‘Dim Probs’, on initial listens, may not appear the most substantial addition to Rhys’ work, it is nevertheless a relaxed (and relaxing) thing of warm humanity and beauty that, in the long run, may be more durable than much of his more lavish and accessible outputs.

“Absolute carnage” was how we described Maruja’s Glastonbury appearance earlier this year, and while no studio recording can capture that sort of live magic, ‘Pain To Power’ comes pretty bloody close.

With 22 tracks it’s self-evident that not everything lands – skits have always been a subject of debate to rap fans, and while some of the miniatures on ‘Supreme Clientele 2’ are fun, there’s a tad too many.

Moments of quaint inspiration and insight are few and far between. In the mire of an album experience intended to present Bieber as spirited and multi-dimensional, you instead get an artist spread thin; anonymous, distant, too often bloviating across a bloated runtime.

Lucrecia Dalt might not think about hit-making, but through her exploration of love and transcendence, she eventually created something strange and eerie, yet surprisingly close to a pop album — with weirdly catchy melodies that tempt you to either dance or hide under the bed — the very thing music critics with their radars on may be looking for.