The anger remains palpable, the lyrics ever relatable, and ‘All That Is Over’ injects enough ingenuity to keep Sprints right at the top of the class.

A carefully crafted and expansive release from a group of young musicians truly coming of age.

‘Juniper’ is an album that reflects growth, is a testament to Joy’s inner strength, and one which places her lyrical prowess centre stage.

‘Futique’ is a bold album that - much like its overarching concept of ‘future antique’ - filters through Biffy’s past, all with the aim of protecting their future.

At its core, ‘Girl Violence’ is a portrayal of melodramatic love and its overwhelming possession that’s as earnest, self-indulgent and womanising as expected from the King Princess demeanour.

On ‘Soak’, Black Honey have finessed their trademark cinematic sound, alongside a renewed sense of clarity.

There’s also the disappointing ‘Sinking Kind Of Feeling’ and opener ‘Other Side’, the latter’s slow build at odds with the overall tone of the record. Still, it’s a great stride forwards with some tracks that’ll likely go down as some of the band’s best.

This slight maladroit as Wednesday’s styles jostle for attention doesn’t affect the record – and in fact, the ‘what we know now’ adds to the emotional heft Karly has already displayed a knack for conveying.

‘Essex Honey’ isn’t about convention or the norm; as Dev continues to push against these boundaries, surrounded by acclaimed like-minded contemporaries, he delivers something far from easy but certainly entrancing.

“How many years are we gonna last?”, she asks on standout ‘Stop Me Now’, over glitchy guitars and drums that suggest the breakdown of a machine: a pleasing synchronicity between form and content.

This third outing is so impeccably paced, with its twists and turns and frequent 180-degree sonic shifts, that it somehow makes the outfit’s already fiery flame burn yet brighter.

A dizzying journey through genre, era, and Jekyll and Hyde dynamic shifts that more than lives up to the vitality of its previews.

An affecting - albeit somewhat terrifying - portrait of how life could shift in the not-so-distant future, ‘No On Was…’ is perhaps the stark reminder we all need to hear.

A typically playful, often infectious pop record.

The fact that Hayley Williams is an eloquent, evocative songwriter has never been in doubt, but with ‘EDAABP’ in all its sprawling scale, she proves just how far-reaching and all-encompassing her talents really are.

Overall, ‘Antidepressants’ is a solid, pleasantly dense record from a band who’ve been solid for decades yet.

‘Double Infinity’ is a gloriously satisfying record on which it feels like everything is in its right place; an album that on some songs features up to twelve players, but feels consistently intimate and laid-back.

The experimentation is there, yes, but this sees Nova Twins pushing themselves even further, incorporating even more, and doing anything to see what will fit. While the record’s highlights - ‘Soprano’, ‘Glory’, ‘Sandman’, and ‘Hummingbird’ - are attention-grabbing shooting stars, some songs here feel less dynamic.

Every element is knowingly referential, cheekily self-aware, and impeccably judged, incorporating all the language - musical, visual, thematic - established by her first two albums into a fluent thesis on national identity, fame, and womanhood.

It’s far from The Hives choosing to rip up their well-thumbed rulebook, but it’d take a cold, cold heart not to be energised by this latest collection of suitably raucous rock’n’roll bangers.

At 10 albums and three decades deep, ‘Private Music’ showcases a band both at the top of their game and with still much more to come.

This fourth album sees Wolf Alice fully embrace all facets of themselves, and through this newfound acceptance and confidence, they’ve produced their boldest, most striking record yet. One for the history books.

If there’s a curveball in what is a charmingly lo-fi release, it’s the higher vocal register he settles into for most of these tracks - something that might alienate fans of his tighter, poppier work circa ‘Salad Days’. Regardless, Mac’s back - for real, this time.

A solid first LP that aims for dive bars and festival fields alike.

If he’s trying things on for size still, then most of ‘Wishbone’ fits Conan Gray rather well, his not-quite-angst meeting its musical equivalent in its not-quite-alternative sound.

At times, the overly-clean production does the songs themselves a disservice, but otherwise everything about ‘Panic Shack’ feels in its right place. Book-ended by two tracks about friendship, this is a debut that presents its protagonists as a gang everyone’s going to want to join.

The rapid rate of return that the band have embraced in recent years has sometimes resulted in less-than-airtight quality control, but at least, on this evidence, they’re having fun.

As Ethel stands broken, forlorn and alone, Hayden rises stronger as one of the very best in storytelling and atmosphere.

Yes, years in the industry can teach you a lot, but ‘Metal Forth’ feels like pure, instinctual exploration.

It’s perhaps more cohesive than 2023’s shamefully underrated ‘Good Luck’.

From rich biblical imagery and warped pastoral scenes (‘Cow Song’) to screeching, string-led tension (‘Highway Man’) and howling invocations (‘Circles’; ‘Mary’), its nine tracks somehow encode a considerable might without ever feeling heavy.

With its clean, bright production, Frankie Cosmos have found a fitting sound on ‘Different Talking’, via their new era of lush, happier pop-rock.

An LP which brightly but undramatically shines with a fresh confidence - a proficient collection of songs, elevated by myriad guest musicians and a seemingly freed spirit.

Their fireside intimacy remains consistent throughout, despite candid storytelling, as they ask for respite in response to an intrusive sex dream on ‘Hotel TV’, and endure cyclical break-up-make-up tension on ‘The Actor’. And even in their more minimal arrangements - see ‘Moth Song’ and ‘I’ll Find A Way’ - the group transmute emotion through their harmonic unison.

It’s jarring, unhinged and idiosyncratic, in part akin to a musical at its most weird (not least on closer, ‘To Know Her’). Yet, for a performer and creative as unchained to convention as Jessica Winter, it was never going to be anything less.

‘moisturizer’ is a wonderfully crafted piece of work that cements Wet Leg’s staying power, an album to soundtrack hugging loved ones and spending the day with them doing nothing at all.

In short, ‘Self Titled’ is a glorious piece of work, easily Tempest’s best and most unforgettable work to date.

In all, ‘Loner’ is a worthy follow-up to his debut that’s suited to soundtrack dancefloors to come - and more crucially, other places too.

It’s clear that ‘Headlights’ is Alex G’s most streamlined body of work yet – the culmination of fifteen years of exploration, refined.

‘Who Wants To Talk About Love?’ arrives as a collective and deeply-charged record of human experience.

The songs here are destined to linger on Lorde’s setlists for a long time, from the triumphant ‘If She Could See Me Now’ through to the addictive, restless groove of ‘Favourite Daughter’. A thrilling comeback that puts Lorde’s trajectory to the stars back on track.

Clashing, cluttered, chaotic, challenging, ‘McCartney, It’ll Be OK’ is a venture beyond the conventional consideration of ‘progressive’, one to simultaneously blow eardrums and provoke minds.

It seems Loyle has started listening to himself more, with ‘hopefully!’ artfully demonstrating his progression through musical influence, as well as through life.

While ultimately a step forward - most notably, in its introduction of greater lyrical vulnerability and richer sounds most notable - a little more cohesion wouldn’t have gone amiss.

‘I quit’ doesn’t try to reinvent the wheel and most of, if not all, the HAIM staples are here: biting satire, tongue-in-cheek takedowns, and Southern-style guitars over a Los Angeles sunshine haze. But in parting with longtime producer and Danielle Haim’s former partner Ariel Rechtshaid (another addition to the list of many things that have been ‘quit’), the sisters have opened up new doors.

There’s something pleasingly straightforward about this self-titled debut record from Goddess.

A stellar example of an artist pushing their collective boundaries while retaining full control over their artistic identity.

It’s another reinvention from the prolific outfit, a joyous ten-track delight, just in time for (our) summer.

Ultimately, ‘Ripped And Torn’ is a little disappointing - its sounds are solid, refined and rehearsed, but feel relatively misguided, with the band seemingly unable to determine exactly where they’re going.

Miley’s commitment to new horizons can’t really be faulted, and ‘Something Beautiful’ does indeed add yet another string to the star’s already considerable musical bow.

An album packed with heart and creativity, still committed and connected to their roots, here, they continue to prove their stake as pioneers of hardcore’s evolution, and it’s truly thrilling to witness.

It all has a vintage feel to it, too, with hints of Faces’ guitar strumming styles, but that’s combined with a more modern approach; here, Wolfhard could be a cousin of Alex G or MJ Lenderman, but with the energy of UK band C Turtle.

Little Simz has long been one of the most consistently interesting, innovative, and important artists out there - and with the arrival of ‘Lotus’, her legacy as an all-time great has never been more assured.

Pulp aren’t taking this chance to merely dine out on nostalgia; instead, they’re returning as evolutions, not imitations, of their past selves - grateful for what they have, while they have it.

A remarkable sense of energy courses through the 11 tracks of ‘Magic, Alive!’.

Jacob’s tender touch on themes of fantasy, dreams and love feels earned across ‘In Limerence’, as if repairing themself via songwriting rather than declaring experiences from a distance. This transparency, in turn, is worth its weight in gold.

caroline’s all-embracing post-rock and folk sensibilities on ‘caroline 2’ make for a grand experience from the off.

It’s still animated and dimensional, all existing under a warm ‘70s-to-’80s, folk-meets-synth-pop lens, which feels to be a natural direction for her sound to have taken

In all, ‘Evangelic Girl is a Gun’ is a flex of pop ingenuity.

There is still room for what feels like his natural habitat - the wistful ‘Frozen Oranges’ is classic, reflective Berninger - but in the main, this is the sound of him really beginning to stretch his legs as a solo artist.

An elegant, engrossing return, that marries its creators’ love of both industrial and ecclesiastical aesthetics while remaining accessible and emotionally easy to grasp. Welcome back.

Even in the album’s earnest moments, where the band uncover substance beneath their snarky self-awareness, they still manage to slide in a razor-sharp critique or two.

The record’s most straightforward track, the Doja-Cat-esque ‘On The Low’, which highlights how modern hyperpop-trap is, at its best, Rico Nasty-indebted; or the artsy punk of ‘Crash’, which feels like a sibling to present-day 070 Shake alt-pop. ‘LETHAL’, firmly reasserting the Rico Nasty legacy, is an alluring feat for the US rapper that feels just as trendy as it is against the grain.

Here, he does indeed examine music’s most ubiquitous theme - namely, the deeply personal yet universal anguish of matters of the heart - but elevates it such that even the most quotidian of details becomes filmic.

A textured tapestry of overwhelm that’s as desperate as it is defiant. She employs a string section across much of the record (a return to the expansiveness of 2018’s ‘Transangelic Exodus’), and yet also dabbles in sampling for the first time; with its skittish drums, eulogic cello, and haunting vocals, ‘You Mustn’t Show Weakness’ is the potent pinnacle of this new frontier. Lyrically, too, ‘Goodbye Small Head’ is some of her finest work.

PUP leap and bound through fields of melancholy, finding balance between bittersweet lyrical tales, upbeat pop-punk foundations, and lingering emo influences. Tracks like ‘Hallways’ and ‘Best Revenge’ play with atypical nuances where elements of pop and indie rock make the genre - which can often feel stale - fresh.

An album that has clearly been constructed with immense care, ‘Animaru’ makes Mei’s supreme efforts crystal clear.

The slow crawl of ‘Acid Rain’ and closer ‘Baton’ offer tender moments of relief on an electrifying second record on which Model/Actriz utilise chaos to amplify moments of vulnerability.

‘Felt Better Alive’ isn’t going for high art, he’s not looking to create another masterpiece, as evident in the nursery rhyme stomp of ‘Out of Tune Balloon’ and ‘Fingee’, a song that can be best described as Chas n Dave-meets-Lankum that barely lasts two minutes. But this is the sound of one of rock’s most enduring survivors exhaling and having fun, which is ultimately all that matters.

‘Fancy That’ scratches just about every nostalgic itch her listeners might have, all while remaining on the pulse of what’s next.

The immediacy of the comparably short and sharp first half (at least in track number alone) gives way to a sprawling crescendo of epics – not least the near-19 minute ‘Planet Desperation’; a track as camp as it is masterful, with more than a gentle nod to the 1960s and ‘70s.

It’s an album that’s far less direct than her debut, and more thoughtful.

‘Sunshine Song’ and its repetitive refrain is just too sugary sweet, even with the whack of distortion added towards its close - but on the whole, ‘The Prize’ is a warm exploration of life’s intimacies that places female friendship at the centre of this pair’s universe.

Sharp, vivid songwriting is central to Samia’s craft, and with ‘Bloodless’, her superpower lies in her curiosity for the unknown, and an ability to turn herself inside out, facing the raw, uncomfortable, and deeply human parts of herself head on.

‘Mortal Primetime’ doesn’t hold your hand or ease you into its sonic shifts. Instead, Sunflower Bean embrace this constant reinvention head-on with a record that only years of experience and an unshakable bond could produce.

Taylor’s rapturous explorations of womanhood are torn through the mundanity of growing older, the depressive nature of Groundhog Day-normality and the catharsis of splitting even further as age makes concrete her contradictions. Across this - her most concentrated and burning record - Taylor’s hardened Sheffield-isms float through the tearjerker soul of a thousand women.

Naturally, one would not expect a band whose breakthrough consisted of a list of physical activities spouted over rumbling post-punk to view ‘switching things up’ in an academic way, but the – whisper it – whimsy that runs through ‘viagr aboys’ is plenty to widen audiences’ expectations of the group.

Julien Baker and TORRES are both immersive, insightful songwriters in their own right; together, their partnership is a resounding testament to resilience and tentative hope.

He still remains guided by the same restless and creatively unburdened spirit that has defined TV on the Radio. However, it is evident that ‘Thee Black Boltz’ is Tunde Adebimpe’s storm to weather, his vision unfiltered with a clarity that makes the collection strikingly his own.

It is a heady and often confounding listen and, for many, will be too drastic a departure from his normal territory, or too diffuse and hectic a set of ideas. What ‘Song of the Earth’ can’t be faulted for, though, is a lack of ambition.

The result is an album that feels expansive and unshackled, while still boasting a gnarly punk heart. Love it or hate it, one thing’s clear here: this band’s ambitions are soaring skyward.

The apology, regret and period of reconnection is brief and pained, and what follows soars. Less irregular than before, Justin’s redemption is soulful, almost spiritual in its delivery. .... It’s a huge leap forward from the introverted brooding of ‘For Emma…’, and a showcase of a man not just 20 years older, but wiser.

They pair their trademark hard-and-soft contrast – a sound which, in hindsight, could be deemed proto-hyperpop – with a litany of references that bring to mind Dua Lipa’s concept of ‘Future Nostalgia’, or a reverse Back To The Future Part II, in which Alexis and bandmate Derek Miller present an imagined late-21st Century past via a vivid 2025 lens.

An ambitious, joyous, heartfelt collection that finds him revelling in analogue instrumentation, expansive arrangements, and unashamedly retro sonic touchstones.

Hazy and forlorn but peaceful record, one that reaffirms their stake in the genre.

Without the literary cues being on show, there’s somewhat of a jarring effect as the record staggers between styles; the menacing high-pitched note that pierces the rumbling bass of ‘Holy Bones’ hints at danger, but comes met with an underwhelming chorus.

This isn’t easy listening. But for those wishing to metaphorically slay an army of deities in the shadowland of the damned? It’s right up your street.

Through the redirection of their sound, lyrics, and indeed, vocalists, ‘Forever Howlong’ redefines who BCNR are. But if one thing remains constant, it’s their unwavering desire to reinvent what their music can be.

Gloomy and often claustrophobic – much like the city that birthed it – ‘Evenfall’ is an intricate snapshot.

‘IC-02 Bogotá’ is a worthy sequel, with all the potential to bring a blissful, mind-bending exotic escapade for one’s mind, body and soul.

Here, she explores the hardships that queer relationships face and the intricate balance between friendships and romance in her own way, exploring love through a tentative, poignantly relatable lens.

As singular and engrossing as heavy albums get, its heavenly heights may well induce levitation.

Mike’s decision to collaborate more heavily births perhaps his most musically expansive record to date, in itself an exercise in allowing the external in.

Far surpassing ‘Let Her Burn’ in scope, quality, ambition and vision, ‘SALVATION’ proves Rebecca Black’s got guts, and that it’s time she got her flowers.

An album that makes no bones about delving headfirst into the terror, anger and fatigue of our present day, it may not be the most lighthearted of listens, but it’s a fiercely potent and important one.

Much like the process of inner work, ‘TELL DEM IT’S SUNNY’ is gently transformative; it channels patience and expansion, ultimately speaking to the heart as a continuation of the unending path that Greentea has shown listeners thus far.

Faris Badwan’s cool vocal command - something which belies the fact that lyrically, ‘Night Life’ is unafraid to reckon with the violence and chaos of the present moment. He’s done some of the finest writing of his career here, on a record where The Horrors burn the midnight oil with a new intensity.

Throughout, ‘For Melancholy Brunettes (& sad women)’ feels like both a leap in musical maturity and a callback to vintage Japanese Breakfast.