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.

While the album is undeniably well produced and generally well performed, unfortunately Woods' fails in his first attempt to stand out from the crowd.

Whilst the initial surprise felt on the original ‘Saturation’ may have subsided, the erratic excitement and experimentation on that album has been executed more confidently on each subsequent chapter. The LA group are everything progressive rap music should be; forward thinking, energetic and perhaps most importantly, exciting.

Was it worth that wait? That’s open to debate, but it’s definitely not an album you listen to and wish they hadn’t bothered.

The record thrives because of this surface-level wokeness, Miguel continuing to occupy his own lane as a vital, progressive artist.

It may not even share the same ambition as ‘No Line On The Horizon’ however, it’s an undeniable improvement on their two misfiring predecessors, marking this collection as their most cohesive and heartfelt in almost 15 years.

Throughout the album, a more mature sound can be heard, which reflects their break from recording music, allowing them to evolve as musicians and songwriters on this more mature, risk-taking production.

The first half of the album follows an upbeat style, reminiscent of raspy rhythm ‘n’ blues, sharp-edged funk, and early Motown. ... The second half of the album harks back to the golden era of soul with gospel roots and orchestral interludes.

While Bailey’s true-to-self, organic approach on Revelations should be celebrated, the record serves more as a transition than a defining peg in Bailey’s young career.

For Sufjan fans, despite not belonging exclusively to their hero, The Greatest Gift is immensely enjoyable. For anyone not yet sold on the Michigan music-maker, well, you’re in for a treat.

Just like all the very best albums, I Tell A Fly is by turns thought provoking, musically challenging and genre defying but perhaps more importantly, it imbues a sense of uniqueness that suggests you can’t imagine anyone else making it.

All this does is reassert the effortless, enduring power of those original pieces; find the originals and save your pennies for the forthcoming Carpenter tour.

It’s not an Oasis record and it’s not a wholly experimental album either. However, it is his best work in an age and an interesting marker for a Weller-esque creative purple patch from an artist rediscovering their sense of purpose.

Stranger is at its best when it steps away from the safety of cloud rap melancholy in favour of Lean embracing his outsider identity.

Swift’s unencumbered analysis of the tectonic shifts within her personal and public life are equal parts razor sharp and self-indulgent. But as a pop album, Reputation is never revolutionary, the adrenalin rush heady but ultimately short-lived.

Low In High School feels confused, misplaced, and tedious.

Wizard Bloody Wizard proves that the music Black Sabbath birthed can still hit hard without much in the way of embellishment nearly fifty years later.

The execution may at times be slightly slapdash and a little heavy-handed but the message is still there.

By its very nature, Nat King Cole And Me isn’t anything groundbreaking; however the project is ultimately a well produced and excellently performed tribute album.

For first-time listeners the distinctly compilation nature of the record could prove disorientating and less rewarding a listen than any of Olsen’s singular, more complete albums. But that’s generally the case in any rarities album. For fans of Olsen's work this is a treasure trove of lesser known recordings that capture the artist in a period in which her sound was ever-evolving and progressing.

There is plenty of time for Guwop to build upon the formula that already has him winning.

The pervasive dreaminess and charm ultimately results in an absorbing debut album.

Living up to its title, Phantom Brickworks proves a spectral set, a fragile sounding record that confidently conveys the intent of its creator. It may not win him any new fans, and old fans may even be puzzled at the lack of sunny beats seen on last year’s ‘A Mineral Love’, but it still stands as a great escape for those who like to get lost in sound rather than riffs.

With Screen Memories, Maus once again welcomes all that dare enter into his all-consuming, oddball world.

The result is an LP that displays an encyclopaedic knowledge and understanding of its references, without being reduced to mere reference.

With Face Your Fear, Harding has given us a captivatingly concise project brimming with soulful and pensive reflection.

A record bursting with artistic emotion and vulnerable resilience.

At once a relatively pragmatic re-release of already heard material and the satisfying conclusion to its previous flirtations, Joli Mai is a hybrid: part-album, part DJ-toolbox--and totally playable, in any context.