‘Fake It Flowers’ is a starting statement that runs on unmitigated confidence, a revealing, enthralling, enchanting debut record, one that finally finds beabadoobee throwing open the gates and letting the world into her life. It’s a joy to behold.

‘Renaissance’ sees Aluna cementing herself as one of the most exciting artists around with this iconic offering that will inspire dance records for years to come.

The instrumentation and guitar playing in particular can sometimes feel like a serenade, to encapsulate such place and time easily lends credit to the talent of this songwriter and all of a sudden, you are a sundowner too.

The best thing about the album, and there are a lot of good things to it, is just how simple it is. Nothing feels overthought, calculated, or insincere. The songs come across like gentle gusts of warming wind when you are out late without a coat.

‘April’ might not be as strong as 2016’s ‘Second Love’. The songs are solid but not quite as pristine as its predecessor. However, it’s understated melodies and melancholy laced lyrics still have the power to stop you in your tracks. This feels like third love.

Herring’s blessed baritone vocals teamed with their trademark bittersweet synth and hefty baselines will continue to make for decent, honest albums for as long as the four-piece please, but the introduction of a faster, lighter tempo in tracks like ‘The Painter’ and ‘Hit The Coast’ could mark the beginning of a much-needed dive into uncharted musical waters.

The twenty-track project, dedicated to his late mother, features Headie’s strongest, most reflective writing to date. Distance offers clarity, and the further he navigates away from his past life, the more vivid the pictures he paints of it.

‘Who Made The Sunshine?’ feels like a fresh slate for the Buffalo artist. Drawing on the weight of his experience to carve out fresh opportunity, it’s a record that – only at moments, mind you – contains some of his best work.

‘Savage Mode 2’ matches ruthless entertainment to phenomenal artistry, a collaboration that works on a number of levels. Once more exposing fresh layers to 21 Savage and Metro Boomin.

Their interpretation of Barrett Strong’s ‘Money (That’s What I Want)’ and the mysterious sounding ‘Fever’ brings a different dimension to these classic songs and breathes new life into these and other legendary songs.

We’d be looking at an even better record had it allowed the space required for her often unrecognised jaw-on-the-floor vocals, but as a whole Melanie C has drawn from a whirlwind year to make a jubilant album that understands where she is right now.

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 record is unmistakably Jónsi, especially with his ‘Hopelandic’ language making several appearances. ‘Shiver’ provides an enjoyable glimpse into Jónsi’s direction, but struggles to balance the tonal dichotomies of abrasive electronic freak-outs and blissful melancholia central to the album’s appeal.

‘Stay Alive’ has a sense of quiet intensity running across its 13 tracks, material that uses points of inspiration gathered across the previous two year international tour. There’s a real vitality to the work, from the bare bones recording style so evocative of Albini’s work through to Laura’s powerful, trenchant vocals, erupting out of the speakers.

Davidson has easily transitioned between dim clubs and big festivals and learned to balance her acerbic ‘existential pop’ with hard-nosed techno. Drawing on the former, ‘Renegade Breakdown’’s appeal is in some ways broader, but she also risks putting off some of the initiated. On the whole, it functions as a reminder of the virtues of going against the grain and not playing it safe.

There are thoughtful beats and thoughtful words here, complementing each other instead of overpowering one another.

‘What You Gonna Do When The Grid Goes Down?’ isn’t without its flaws. Sitting very much in their own lane, the group prefer to finesse – rather than overhaul – their sound, and as a result it can sometimes veer into the predictable. That said, Public Enemy never once let the energy drop, their raw sense of purpose intact.

Essentially, it’s rock’n’roll at full pelt; Bob Mould doing what Bob Mould has always done best.

A must-listen for those who like their metal with depth and mystery.

A succinct, focussed return, ‘Phantom Birds’ makes a neat soundtrack to the final days of the English summer.

While not their best work, ‘Ultra Mono’ takes many leaps forward in terms of songwriting and tunecraft, while blowing a few kisses at their detractors. That’ll be mission accomplished.

There’s a stunning candour to the lyrics, though it gets a little stodgy in the mid-section and, at 80+ minutes, is a little more verbiage than the typical album. Yet we’re dealing with an untypical songwriter, and the last two tracks are among the best he’s ever written.

Without a doubt, the millennial angst is still there, but his sound has matured and evolved giving a more sophisticated feel. However on occasion, it’s lacking an element of rawness that was historically present in his previous album. You cannot however deny his star quality, his guitar playing prowess and of course his soulful yet gravelly vocals that are both captivating and comforting in equal measure.

As natural and inviting as the curling of the leaves, ‘Shore’ is Fleet Foxes at their best. A voice of comfort for an atmomised generation, this is less album, and more treasure trove.

Tracing the lush synth lines running through this album shows Epworth’s love affair with the retro electronics of the 1980s. But their pairing with the sensibilities of modern pop ends up feeling less like the 80s, and more like last decade’s 80s nostalgia.

Her self-imposed solitude during its gestation period (she apparently spent 10 days in complete silence at a Vipassana retreat while writing) has led to a very introspective work that somehow still feels relatable.

Slimmed down to forty minutes split between ten tracks, Apple has the feel of one cohesive whole when compared to 7G’s daunting monolith.

With the additions of neat production touches and elegantly self-aware lyricisms to complement Weiss’s already powerful atmospheric sound, there is a definitive feeling of hope that runs through the core of this album.