Handling pop punch with the same rightful care as punk rebellion, Sløtface aren’t indebted to any of their touchstones. Instead they’re mashing them to new, distinctive effect.

Without a doubt an audacious first effort, Adult Jazz have lovingly crafted a record of intriguing, ear-catching pop music on Gist Is.

You’d hope there’d be more new ideas injected in to Simon’s music. As it is however, Migration feels disappointingly close to home.

Complex, and replete with glitches, slow beats and breakdowns, In A Dim Light is as captivating as 'Condors', yet with an evident sense of renewed direction and focused calm and quietude.

Another triumph.

An album which is deluged in melancholy of the sweetest kind, 'Threads' undoubtedly deserves your ears.

In the wider picture, this may not make the impressive strides 'Visions' or Purity Ring's 'Shrines' did, but there's every chance Lesser Evil can find an audience to smother it in all the affection it deserves.

Admittedly, there is probably nothing on While A Nation Sleeps that quite scales the peaks of the their finest works, there is no 'Rookie', no 'My Life in the Knife Trade' but there are plenty of pulse quickening moments for fans and non-fans alike.

[Singer Colin Meloy's] ability to write hooks is still as strong as ever, and the narrative prowess he has always made absolute use of is ever stirring.

Shopping want to be moody and want to be fun; they want to be taken completely seriously and want you to laugh with them. Though the album switches between states of feeling, it rarely drops beneath being anything less than brilliant.

It’s only in the moments with somebody else in the driving seat that The Anonymous Nobody shines.

Overall, it’s hard to escape the sense that the concept behind the record has played to its favour in some parts and gone against it in others; this is, therefore, not even close to being the most balanced Sweet Baboo effort to date.

There’s a lot to like on Cohen’s debut, and plenty to suggest a follow-up could soar to far greater heights, but not enough to suggest a commercial breakthrough could be on the cards.

Even as they strain between varying poles, Frigs still manage to find moments of great, if sombre, beauty. That’s not basic at all.

Melody’s weird medley may not be as accessible as her debut, but it’s a work of art that deserves to be beheld for its impressive and unique innovation.

By keeping enough of the old--and allowing themselves the space to go a little heart-on-sleeve--their tales of 2010s disillusionment are a resounding success.

Patrick is found confronting familiar ideas of inner contentment alongside upbeat surface shine on this bittersweet work - full of charm and integrity

It’s refined, mature and an affirmation of the levels she could reach, on a similar path to star labelmates Phoebe Bridgers, Mitski and Japanese Breakfast.

‘Contender’ is a marked step forwards from one of Britain’s more endearingly idiosyncratic indie rock outfits.

His distinctive voice, ranging from guttural lows to a glittering falsetto, is the tool he uses to sculpt out his vast sonic vision.

‘Here Is Everything’ lands in the sweet spot; it’s creatively ambitious, pushing the quartet into new ground, but it does so with a renewed sense of fun.

Styles twist and turn, from the unabashed radio pop sound that excites on ‘To Kill A Single Girl (Tequila)’ to surprisingly vulnerable closer ‘I Was The Biggest Curse’ via ‘Sweet & Savage’, which has all the mindbending pace shifts of an early 2000s Xenomania production. Lyrically, meanwhile, she barely misses.

On ‘FEVEREATEN’, Witch Fever are relentless in their pursuit of textural and sonic intricacies, dancing through eerie, Midsommar-esque soundscapes to vividly paint their sonic vision.


Perhaps most thrilling is when those two sides merge, as they do on the epic, stylistically fluid ‘The End’, which runs nearly nine minutes and confirms - as does ‘Stardust’ as a whole - that his ambition remains undimmed as he opens this new chapter.

For anyone who’s ever wondered what sort of album a hybrid of Joan Jett and Janet Jackson would make, the answer is right here.

Even when 'Turns Turns Turns' or the astonishingly upfront 'Bugs Don't Buzz' offer vital, personal refuge, an evil, grating side to you will crave a crescendo, a clamouring climax all coloured and epic. Majical Cloudz is the antithesis of such, but when he flirts with dangerous grey areas, he actually ends up striking gold.

It’s a frankly overwhelming listen first time around, with everything tearing along at a hundred miles an hour, but it’s all fizzing and crackling so exhilaratingly that you’re happy to let her sweep you along.

Dutch Uncles’ most direct and user-friendly album yet.

More confident in their own musical skins, it all adds together to make Every Open Eye a second album even better than the first.

Mykki is a promising starting point for some, a jump into a different league entirely for his following.

Raw and uncompromising, yet always harbouring a degree of melody, it’s the product of ten years of learning, and succeeds in deftly balancing subtle nuance with a sense of uncompromising aggression.

It packs a ferocious punch without compromising subtlety, operating with coiled concealed restraint. With their offering, Mogwai prove once more that, after more than twenty years, they’re a constantly evolving beast of a band.

Granted, even now it's difficult to assess his work wholly objectively given his recent, well-documented struggles, but strip away any unnecessary contextualisation and the record stands up proudly and defiantly on its own two feet.

Some of these songs could have been picked out from different eras altogether, they’re from such distant worlds. But once this record finds its structure, its own voice beyond the ugly context, it’s hard to imagining it arriving in any other form.

This fourth album is undoubtedly a return to something: full of raw, barely restrained bite, it’s as if they’ve taken all the sparky, unself-conscious vigour of their 2018 debut and, in their relative maturity, learned to wield it even more potently. Ever the rabble-rousing ringleader, Charlie Steen is on vintage lyrical form.

Iit feels like a natural extension from what’s come before rather than a bold move forward, but you can tell Santigold had fun making it all the same.

The Idlewild comeback may not see them scale the heights of their previous output, but this album is certainly a heart-warming success.

Combined with the hypnotic instrumentation that blankets the record, it's easy to immerse yourself and get lost in its alluring character.

Routines isn’t an album that’s going to change the world, but it is a pretty good reminder to stop, slow down and take things in once in a while.

Richly nuanced, effortlessly cool and at times beautifully bleak, ‘Home for Now’ feels like the sound of Babeheaven finding their feet in an atmosphere of uncertainty.

Sonically, it does what it sets out to do, delivering on the playful, biting riffs, singalong moments and charming, scrappy harmonies that accompany one big swell of emotion after the next.

The middle run of ‘U Do U’, ‘RH RN’ and ‘Old Flame’ is so mid-paced and lacking in audible spark that it’s as if the record has momentarily dozed off. And for a group who have seemed so overflowing with ideas, so strong in their convictions and so urgently essential, it can’t help but feel a bit disappointing

A record that couldn’t be more consistently him. It paints this, his seventh studio album, as a compendium of his best parts, and perhaps his first to truly do so.

Despite the luxurious, audible excess, Dying is a masterclass of refrain.

Ultimately Beyond The Wizards sleeve sounds like what it is--a hobby. As an outsider, it simply doesn’t reap the same rewards as it might have for its creators.

Not consolidating or scaling back their ambition in the slightest, mewithoutYou continue to be one of indie-rock’s most consistently fascinating voices, and on ‘[Untitled]’ they’re as weird and wonderful as ever.

Taken on their own, each track solidifies the group’s wild imagination, but IV is tough to stomach as the free-flowing, full-bodied juggernaut that it is.

Cosmic Wink is largely free from inhibition though, documenting the big changes in life over beautiful, sweeping folk. While the album doesn’t hold all the answers, it’s still sure enough in its message to connect and remind you of the important things.

‘The Death of Randy Fitz­sim­mons’ feels like a return to their roots; there’s a pleas­ing lack of pol­ish to the pro­duc­tion on what is a suc­ces­sion of punk rock blasts, from quick-fire bursts like ​‘Trap­door Solu­tion’ and closer ​‘Step Out of the Way’ to sus­tained sal­vos, with the bass-driv­en ​‘Count­down To Shut­down’ a case in point. There’s play­ful evid­ence of new ideas being worked in, too.

Abysmal Thoughts is still a frenetic blend of surf rock and new wave, but it also feels daring, languid at some moments and breakneck at others.

From a band capable of biting social commentaries and intense concept albums about the First World War, this latest, fluffier episode in the Field Music saga is a solid record that does everything you’d ever hope a Field Music album would do.

With layer upon layer of vocal, groove, and percussion, Jaakko Eino Kalevi is a reminder that pop can be both for your head and your feet.

Silver/Lead is an accomplished record from a band who continue to challenge their audience.

While the maelstrom of noise doesn’t let up at any point (with guitar feedback providing a segue between each song on the album), it is only a veil for the strong songwriting that lurks beneath. An emphatic debut.

Korn are anew, and ‘Requiem’ sees them fearless, no longer managing a balancing act with imprudent collaborators and instead embracing what made them famous to begin with. Impressively, their 14th studio album is teeming with riveting hooks.

Amongst all that haze, it's clear that Krell has produced another gorgeous record that is incredibly open about love and loss.

While ‘Take it to the Max’ sounds like Battles and Gold Panda had, well... a battle. These elements only enhance rather than inhibit, proving Deacon’s ability to find the best ingredients for his eclectic recipe.

‘Typhoons’ occasionally misses the mark: the space created by the pair’s more chilled sonic approach isn’t filled. The songs here may be more melodic, more complex even on paper, but in reality there’s little there to truly grab hold of.

‘Dirt Femme’ sees her juxtapose elements ingeniously. If she’s singing in a straightforward manner, on a more direct number, then the music is twisting and turning in offbeat ways.

Between the excitement of the new on ‘Glasgow Eyes’ and the presence of the more classic, indie rock side of the band on tracks like ‘The Eagles and The Beatles’, the band appear to have tapped into a rich new vein of songwriting form. On this evidence, here’s to the next forty.

With Fudge Sandwich, Ty breathes new life into an already solid collection of rock songs, and he is an ever-mutating musician on this album as he is in real life.

‘SUGAREGG’ is eminently aware of its own fragility under its candy-coated shell, and with it a candid recognition of the fleeting nature of happiness and the work required to hold onto it.

Olympic Girls is Tiny Ruins diversifying their sound and, in the process, unlocking something new and palpable. Simply by moving further out, they start to let us in.

‘Defeat’ alone clocks up a gargantuan 22 minutes runtime. Similarly, ‘Magicians From Baltimore’ could have been a wonderfully tight piece but overstays its welcome at almost 10 minutes. Still, the blissed-out, spage age ‘Genie’s Open’ and the funky prog of ‘Gem & I’ provide at least a partial argument in favour.

A weird and wonderful new offering.

Just like love itself, it’s an album you will fall for despite (or even because of) its flaws and imperfections as much as the real moments of truth and beauty it provides.

Anybody arriving at this album expecting 13 ‘Milkshake’s will be sorely disappointed, but everyone else will hear Kelis at her most effortless.

Its most immediate moment may come via the El-P featuring ‘Don’t Let The Devil’, with its musical bombast and Mike as most have heard him until now, but this is a sonically rich record that is likely to reveal yet more on each listen.

A pristine collection that’s at once the past’s idea of the future as it is the here and now.

In short, it sounds like Weezer. Those magic chord changes, the wiry guitar licks, Rivers Cuomo’s awkward, faltering vocals--these may be brand new songs, but they’re all so immediately familiar that, as the title may suggest, they create one almighty aural comfort blanket.

ENSWBL, Part 2 picks up the baton of its predecessor and sends it surging to the finish line, leaving Foals legions ahead of their competitors.

Their third album feels singular, apart from its predecessors in spirit, for better and worse.

The Leeds five-piece combine psychedelia, krautrock and gonzo rock 'n roll to unashamedly epic effect on this surprisingly immediate debut album.

It’s a characteristic success and a massive delight to the fans that their return as a three-piece yields something as excellent as El Pintor.

It’s a sensitive and technically more profound outing.

Just as unique as that now-classic debut, Alvvays have inadvertently gotten their wish all the same. They’ve wound up in a league of their own.

Each soundbite from Highway Hypnosis is heavy and layered, every track an earworm.

Unfortunately, none of the later tracks hit with the same urgency as the first few. The album is a fun listen, still, and one that encapsulates that Polaroid summer we’re all after.

Emotional yet playful, soft yet strong, Happyness newest is the sound of a band fully settled in their own skin.

There are occasional flickers of inspiration - see the maximalist rework of ‘Elite’ from Blanck Mass and the minimalist ‘Teenager’ that Robert Smith contributed - but otherwise, you have to hope that everybody involved enjoyed putting Black Stallion together, because it ain’t much fun to listen to.

While ‘Reflection Of Youth’ delved into intimate soul searching and destructive introspection, ‘Speak’ casts a macroscopic lens on the human experience, delicately documenting Anna’s rising confidence and newfound acceptance in her sense of self.

This is an irresistibly likeable album, very much in the mould of its creator’s affable, mellow personality.

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.

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

For the most part, ‘The World Is Not Good Enough’ is, yes, as wholly pleasant as its colourful, cute-adjacent cover would suggest.

Disjointed rather than bad; there's undoubtedly a cross-section for which the not-quite-post-punk, not-quite-shoegaze combination works. Let's hope they find it.

Whether figuratively (say, the disjointed delivery and post-punk rhythms of The Slits and the fearlessness of Kathleen Hanna) or literally (that Spice Girls riff in ‘F.U.U’), Dream Wife have taken all they’ve absorbed from decades of iconic women and created, well, a dream of a record.

There’s a constant feeling that instead of edging towards going one bigger, this band have embraced their calling. And if Foals didn’t already have enough songs in their arsenal to top festival bills, they’ve just added ten more.

The Britain of 2013 may be a place full of dread in Primal Scream’s world but that sense of anger has prompted them to deliver an extremely impressive return that’s brash, bold and often brilliant.

Mazes confirm themselves as one of the most exciting British bands currently around. This is the result of what happens when three unique and brilliant minds are given the right facilities they need to make their vision happen.

The Los Angeles natives are more cautious in their ecstasy, in equal parts as celebratory, uplifting and outright horny as they are aware and angry, yet as affirmed on the brilliantly rousing ‘So What’, there’s more than enough love to go around.

‘How To Let Go’ is an album of two halves, where at times she seamlessly slides back into the laid-back persona of old.

This collection allows his masterful lyrics and song-craft to shone through unfiltered.

At a succinct length, the album does exactly what it needs to do without a second to spare.

There’s a sense that nobody’s heart was quite in it which sometimes means proceedings drag on, refusing to invent, refusing to accept that Granddady can be a band who make it. It’s heart-breaking and at times powerfully so, but it also shuns the listener, forcing them to a place where Grandaddy risk drifting once more into obscurity.

Why Love Now truly comes to life when the band uses their punishing sound to explore the absurdity of modern masculinity.

Given that the various members of Hot Chip have various side-hustles and secondary creative outlets, it’s a little surprising how much of ‘Freakout / Release’ sounds quite this forced.

Dan is increasingly using Daphni as a tool with which to broaden the horizons of his own understanding of dance music; to simply to take it at face value, though, it might already be the most relentlessly feel-good album of 2026.