She’s created a world of her own, and on this latest record she sinks deep into its clutches.

An album that is brimming with curiosity and exploration – an album on which, from the off, Nilüfer strives to make an excavation of the core of who she is. More expansive and undiluted than its predecessors, she seems to find room to explore both sonically and lyrically.

There is no reinvention of the wheel here from Tigers Jaw, but when they do heart-on-sleeve emo this convincingly, that doesn’t matter.

Its second half is abrasive to the extreme, but by this point the hypnotic album’s already worked its charm. If Blunt is ever to settle into a routine, this should be his blueprint.

In short, the Canadian four-piece’s third LP is a terrific fusion of indie, new-wave and house that demands attention.

If the songwriting on Hitch is, to coin an old music hack turn-of-phrase, ‘mature’, it’s also concise--in a good way.

“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.

While some might mourn the loss of their one-time raucousness, ‘Gigi’s Recovery’ shows that their momentum swings only forwards.

A fierce, fearless debut.

At their core, Cymbals Eat Guitars is still the same band as before--just bigger and bolder, more sharpened and focused. And they’re better for it.

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.

Dense to the extreme, a thick fog of emotions that concedes nothing, this is as uncompromising and potentially definitive as a break-up album could ever be.

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

This isn’t a band going through the motions, it’s a band going through a violent and explosive rebirth, a return to form that’s almost unparalleled.

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.

It doesn’t rest on what has come before, landing somewhere between the ‘80s new wave of their debut and mainstream pop, now with the self-expression of a far more confident songwriter.

The Philadelphia quartet’s appeal is built on an earnestness and an honesty that leaks from every sweat-channelling pore of The Things We Do To Find People Who Feel Like Us.

At times it’s a strange record. The rough tones don’t register as forcefully as the hooks on previous works. That said, it’s a rewarding listen, one that eventually embeds itself once given full attention.

It may not be entirely reinventing the rock wheel, but it’s certainly a more successful attempt at broadening their horizons.

Know It All isn’t perfect, but it’d be a challenge not to fall for even just some its charms.

Loaded with more jingles than a sleigh at Christmas, Brilliant Sanity is synth pop at it’s most intentionally addictive.

The glue between ten ambitious tracks, she holds her own and sounds more relevant than ever.

Grown up, spotlessly polished and now with full-fledged circuitry, these pirates are machines now, making Teleman’s debut nothing short of electric.

Lazaretto is perhaps the most conventionally made of White’s back catalogue. And for an artist as brilliantly unconventional as he, could prove itself more of a test than any of its predecessors. A test passed with flying colours (or at least various shades of blue).

Their fourth album, Right Thoughts, Right Words, Right Action is a thumping beast full of deliberate, sudden movements and big melodies.

If ‘Football Money’ was a full-hearted paean to the likes of Pavement and Archers of Loaf, then ‘Cooler Returns’ is the sound of Kiwi Jr moving forwards, planting their own flag in the power-pop ground.

Never sitting still or dwelling on their influences for too long, the third incarnation of Cheatahs in 2015 have harnessed the hyperactivity of their release schedule, channelling it into a collection of tracks that houses some of their strongest moments to date.

Kill The One You Love is a record built around hope, and around finding the optimism in fatalism, and the inevitable freedom that comes with such a discovery. As such, it feels much less a debut, and far more an aphorism from the mouths of a band wise beyond their years.

[Pa Salieu] The Ghanaian-British rapper is one of a handful of guests here, each of whom allow Ibeyi to reflect the past and present simultaneously.

The jaunty, energetic hints of Britpop cast aside, this is Gaz Coombes the adult man, writing adult songs, and they’re really rather great.

Danger Mouse and Black Thought’s long-awaited album arrives as a tribute to a whole scene rather than just two artists.

With the world often seeming like a bleakly real episode of Black Mirror these days, Losing--a record that expresses the paralysing feeling of helpless that comes from watching it all unfold--is both timely and cathartic.

There must have been temptation to settle into a groove--gorgeous grooves, too--but by rebelling against themselves, Coyes and Dunis have been handed the ultimate lease of life.

Much like grief, ‘Evergreen’ has its highs and lows, but ultimately, it makes you feel less alone and like you’re going to be OK.

Not The Actual Events serves as an excellent primer for what is to come. But more importantly, and more pressingly, it asks more questions and takes more risks than any welcome back should. It’s not a postcard of a legendary past, its a battlecry for something truly epic to come.

Lemon Memory shows a band unencumbered by the constraints of genre or even their own musical history.

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.

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.

‘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.

Ambition often manifests itself into self-indulgence, and from the off you're convinced Field Of Reed could slip into said territory. But it's an exceptional case, where its makers hit the jackpot, where imagination runs riot and gets away with every daring feat, each one more foolish than the previous.

Returns to the Max Martin collaborative bangers that first turned the world onto Robyn. That pop brilliance runs through ‘Dopamine’, the driving beat of ‘Talk To Me’, and the rousing chorus of ‘Into The Sun’.

GEM is nothing short of spellbinding.

An album that values intensity and tenderness in equal measure, You Will Not Die is a multi-faceted and fascinating introduction.

Nodding strongly towards everything from Hall & Oates, to Justice, and Patrice Rushen, and flaunting all of Mount’s influences without a hint of irony, Summer ‘08’ is from start to finish, a back to basics, pure-pop odyssey.

These songs might be the result of time spent in-between projects, but they are no b-sides, and they show a bigger, more cinematic side to Courtney’s songwriting that not only provides solitude in its glistening nostalgia, but conjures excitement for his projects to come.

You're Nothing is the magnificent transition from teens powered by punk angst to men mastering aggressive rock songs.

Elbow sound revitalised here with Garvey proving himself once more to be one of the most eloquent British songwriters around.

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.

‘Model Citizen’ takes everything that has driven the scene forward and injects an unapologetic - and very welcome - Gen Z spin.

Ranging from intimidating to wonderfully eye-opening, it's always forthright, and it barely falters.

Agut-wrenching yet joyous journey into the thick of her every feeling, with neither sugar-coating or shame. It’s a walk on a tightrope, balanced precariously between a downward spiralling cascade of thought.

While Ken is more accessible than its predecessor it seems unlikely to affect the Vancouver musician’s cult name status.

Bleeds bends and twists genres into more combinations than are possible on a Rubix cube; splicing hip-hop, techno and even classical in ways that make it one of the most original and emotionally charged British albums of the year.

This is the sound of a band who have re-discovered the party (the good bits, the bad bits, the seedy bits) and the result is that Too Weird... is an album that pops and fizzes with excitement, vim and intent.

Surfing Strange has the band gliding over waves at record height, with barely a single hiccup.

Rarely entering the realm of pastiche, in all, this makes for a brilliant, ageless album.

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

As surefire a bet for bigger things as there’ll ever be, for the most part it’s a resounding success.

Self-produced and largely self-performed, Vagabon celebrates her heritage and her community, but most of all her creative freedom to challenge musical boundaries and to break away from the norm.

1982 appears slight on first glance, but it’s packed with so many lasting melodies and shifts in tone and dynamics that it winds up being a much richer project than its 38-minute run time may initially suggest.

Debut ‘Unlearn’ showed promise but Age of Fracture is that promise realised and then some.

Slowing down and refining his output has allowed Alex the time to make Rocket a brilliantly considered next step. It’s also his catchiest record yet.

Much of Cavetown’s fifth album is as one would expect. ... However then arrives ‘a kind thing to do’ - featuring Pierce The Veil’s Vic Fuentes - which plays with punk-pop revival tropes in captivating ways.

Punctuated by Simon’s misanthropic frustrations at a post-pandemic world, it’s a bold and brilliant but bileful record that may alienate even the most diehard of those ‘early-albums-are-the-best’ fans.

Mixing disco, dance, pop and R&B elements, ‘About Last Night…’ whisks us through the highs and lows of the best night out of your life, and Mabel is the perfect party guide.

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

This is a captivating record; a studied, precise and explorative showcase of songwriting, equal parts accessible and experimental.

Sleek, elegant but neck deep in gory realities, Conscious is a record that deals in the very best and worst of the world but instead of getting dragged down with the weight of these realisations, Broods climb high.

Wild Nights as a whole feels like a step forward for Pins; they’ve played to their strengths in genuinely self-assured fashion.

It's one of the most powerful records to be released in a very long time.

Even on ‘Short n’ Sweet’’s less standout moments, Sabrina is still the spicy kick at its centre, ready to deliver a cheeky wink at every turn.

It's not as acoustic and stripped back as some will expect but it does not disappoint (unless you were waiting on eleven 'Ballgames').

There’s a little less edge than on debut ​‘Smiling With No Teeth’, but a softer lens offers more variety, and Genesis Owusu sails the spectrum of human experience with ease to make something just as weighty as the literature that inspired it.

The Beautiful Stories is their liveliest effort to date.

It doesn’t so much as show them in a new light, more picks up where ‘Trompe le Monde’ left off all those years ago. But, as the saying goes, if it ain't broke, don’t fix it.

There’s a real sense of optimism and summer to the record.

Persuasive, pummelling, precise, Refused may have--quite literally--set the agenda with ‘The Shape Of Punk To Come’ but here they’re proving that they can still translate the blueprints regardless of how much time has passed.

Mothers have taken their tactics of constant instrumental juxtapositions into another realm, somehow finding a middle ground between the pleasant and the discordant, where Mothers have comfortably found their niche--it’s not always uplifting, but it consistently delivers.

Fall Into the Sun is the best Swearin’ record yet; that Allison and Kyle have not just reformed the band, but actually brought the creative best out of each other in doing so, is a powerful advert for reconciliation.

Unpacking messy feelings over delicate guitars, Crushing may have been born from a place of confusion, but Julia Jacklin’s voice sounds clearer than ever.

A vivid and vulnerable album, brimming with emotional depth, occupying its own distinct lane.

When We All Fall Asleep, Where Do We Go? is a supremely exciting, innovative first move from a pop voice that feels utterly fresh and modern.

Celebratory, rich and more confident than ever before, they’re yet again the finest versions of themselves.

‘Sticky’ is music for living life in full colour, and until you listen, you won’t know how much you needed it.

Cut with the wonky, off-kilter darkness of standout tracks such as ‘Polaris’ and siren-like synth whirrs of the title track too, the new record slots neatly into the expansive Dewaele puzzle; a vibrantly textured, shapeshifting, and inquisitively diverse return.

‘The Dream’’s strength is in packing not just alt-J’s usual futuristic twist, but a heavy side serving of nostalgia too. It’s a perfect, subtle, and unpretentious combo.

Yhis is a band tight enough and confident enough to know they can take anything, and anybody, on.

It's nothing we haven't heard before, but it's delightfully packaged, making it feel unique in its own way.

Love Is Magic feels like a victory lap. Frequently boundary-pushing, side-splittingly funny and anything but safe, John Grant’s fourth LP is a rip-roaring thrill ride that’s immensely danceable to boot. Magic really does work in mysterious ways.

A group refusing to stand still, this is another chapter in a band priding themselves on forward movement while celebrating their storied past.

Whether trying to find solace in community while battling your deepest demons, or after an uninhibited jig to some of the catchiest indie-pop around, Martha still have your back.

‘The Pilgrim, Their God and the King of My Decrepit Mountain’ is an escapist dream, and immersive story.

‘Polari’ is a feat of punchy alt-pop that embraces the resilient and immortal histories of the queer community, encapsulating Olly Alexander’s alluring, informed artistry as a solo performer.

With this near-mystical storytelling ‘Quiet The Room’ leans heavily on folk, yet in style it embodies something entirely different. Seemingly on the edge of collapse, it tells a fraught tale of fragile memories that exist on the very brink of reality.

‘The Car’ is Alex and crew’s most soundtrack-like work so far, flowing together in one long movement made cohesive by Bridget Samuels’ lush orchestral arrangements which adorn it.

The title of serpentwithfeet’s debut full-length soil is perhaps literal then: a return to his roots and a celebration of finally having found his feet.

On this record, their drum-and-synths minimalism is more refined, the bass-lines more prominent, the hooks almost embarrassingly memorable.

While Savage remains the same bleary-eyed and soft-hearted crooner he always has been, Bermuda Waterfall feels far more widescreen than anything he’s done before.