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.

It’s the uniquely sombre and contemplative Iggy Pop album we didn’t realise we needed.

A beautiful new offering, ‘Pony’ is equal parts heart wrenching and hopeful, and shows Rex back at his very finest.

With ‘Blindness’, The Murder Capital have crafted an album that feels both urgent and timeless. Simply put, it’s nothing short of a triumph.

Delicate duets, bluegrass string strumming and some of the most genuinely emotive lyrics you'll hear all year combine to produce an album of rare and beautiful quality.

The band’s most concise sound yet whilst never taking itself too seriously, as Mannequin Pussy continue to dominate a world of their own creation.

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.

‘Mercy’ provides another delicious example of an esteemed old-timer triumphantly pushing his creative frontiers into a much-shifted modern age.

It’s at once a fever dream and a museum of Cameron’s dreams, desires, and influences - a postmodern kaleidoscope, if there ever was one.

The leap has definitely paid off - her inimitable voice thrives in the woozy dancehall and afrobeat-inspired ‘First’ and the big pop confidence of ‘Womxn’, but also knows when to take a step back, peppering the record with spoken word segments and heartfelt mantras that tie the whole thing together.

As twelve equally matched moments of varied tone but consistent brilliance, it's nothing short of exactly what was expected--the start of something even bigger.

While The National don't progress or indeed offer anything new to outstanding cynics, they instead rejoice in their strengths of detailing life and all its sorry baggage in the most beautiful of ways.

The real masterstroke of ‘30’, however, comes with how these lyrics - the pain, the self-flagellation (sometimes cruel, often mocking), the hope, the acceptance - are expertly matched musically.

Lime Garden offer a reassuring hand to warm shoulders and a candied melody or ten to sweeten ears. Not only this, but as an album indebted as much to Charli XCX or Bon Iver as it is to The Strokes, as equally comfortable with cello-bowing ballads or auto-tuned pop anthemia as it is with the guitar-chugging banger, it confirms Lime Garden as a band with potential to achieve even higher artistic greatness.

While the off-kilter rhythms and cowbells of ‘This Love’ give way to a central chorus line that’s almost Bowie-esque. They’re big reference points but ‘Turn The Car Around’ uses them masterfully to drive down its own sonic motorway.

The Brooklyn four-piece have produced something truly special. This is a real statement of a record, one that sees them forge ever further skyward in their pursuit of monolithic shoegaze (‘Brown Paper Bag’, ‘Somber the Drums’) while also exploring softer territory on tracks so thick with atmosphere that their queasy melodies gnaw at the marrow of your bones.

‘Tough Baby’ gives us a distinctly moving experience of serious artistic intent. It’s like watching a wound open, flowers growing out of it.

As perhaps one of the most refreshing voices in indie folk, ‘Seed Of A Seed’ sees Haley Heynderickx harnessing a uniquely spellbinding and sensitive power.

Both what you’d want and expect from a Chemical Brothers album, as well as a whole lot more on top, it pushes the duo firmly back to relevance.

‘COSPLAY’ lands as simultaneously their broadest and best album to date - unpredictable, unnerving and all-encompassing.

A modern-folk masterpiece which finds her moving from her previous pop bangers into stunningly simple yet sharp melodies, ‘folklore’ will be going down in Swiftie history as one of her most unexpected, and undoubtedly one of her best.

Overall, it’s a testament to the world-class songwriting of The Lemon Twigs that at no point does the record fall into the realms of ‘too much’. For most, it would be hard to strike that balance, but The Lemon Twigs absolutely master the art of crooning sugary pop-rock in the best of ways.

Squid always seemed destined to have an epic album in them, and they’ve delivered just that.

Broadening the creative scope, Half Waif is given the space to breathe both lyrically and musically. ‘Mythopoetics’ glides from the stripped back piano and layered vocals of opener ‘Fabric’ and the intimate closer ‘Powder’ to the electronic flourishes that have elevated Nandi’s sound across four prior records.

This record is a playful, daring and capricious listen, and one of the first truly remarkable records of 2012.

Often Gorillaz records fall victim to feeling a little disjointed but with many moods and gargantuan guests here, Damon somehow manages to make ‘Strange Timez’ feel like a cohesive whole. Gorillaz can often be a hard band to define, and their records haven’t always fared well in the context they’re released in - in 2020 though, it all makes perfect sense.

That Lava La Rue has managed to tame such huge ambition into a long-in-the-making debut that’s inventive but accessible and never outstays its welcome is a feat not to be diminished.

Whether it matches up to its self-proclaimed sister record or not, 2020 has seen Taylor Swift deliver over two hours of the most relatable stories in contemporary pop. There are lyricists and there are storytellers, and in a year of uncertainty and inconsistency, Taylor Swift has emerged as the most assured songwriter of her generation.

Few albums carry the raw emotion of ‘Every Bad’, and carry it with such musical confidence.

It's entirely possible that by proving they can make anything their own, they've become one of Britain's best bands.

It begs to be listened to again and again, and to soundtrack warm nights spent ruminating or engaged in the kind of conversations that can only come late in the night. The intricacies of ‘Charm’ demand to be intimately known.

An album that exudes charm and euphoria, while still very much being Fall Out Boy’s DNA, ‘So Much (For) Stardust’ is a real joy.

‘10,000 gecs’ is a thrilling ride from start to finish, catapulting through genres across 10 unrelenting and imaginative bangers.

It sounds fantastic throughout; there's just the right mix of intense dance floor dynamics and reverential sounds.

‘songs’ feels like unearthing an old puzzle a piece at a time. ‘instrumentals’, while texturally the same, focuses on pure ambience – the unspecific title is far more deserving. If anything, this feels more like a companion piece, a window into that cabin rather than its own separate record. If you wish you had been there, this is the best way to feel like you were.

‘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.

Perhaps a less confident artist would be tempted to finish on a grand crescendo, but Angel Olsen has made a masterful record that both requires and earns a little patience.

‘POSTINDUSTRIAL HOMETOWN BLUES’ is not the soothing salve for a country tearing itself apart. Instead, it is the molotov cocktail and lighter threatening to ignite the people into taking action.

That ‘Laurel Hell’ exists only because it almost didn’t gives it its power. It provides the space for her mastery of songwriting, and Patrick Hyland’s understated yet orchestral production places Mitski in a realm all her own.

Absolutely bonkers and utterly brilliant, if black midi’s indefinite hiatus was the high price for ‘The New Sound’, then it was a price worth paying.

What’s remarkable about ‘What A Devastating Turn Of Events’, though, is that the gravitas of this weightier material isn’t cheapened by the sudden contrast, just as the LP’s initial buoyancy somehow doesn’t become retrospectively flippant. Instead, the album honours that life’s lightness isn’t contradicted by the dark moments, but rather co-exists alongside them; a reminder that everything – and everyone – contains multitudes.

An excellent record that is at points raw but more often joyful, but is also proof of the importance of taking time out.

Across the board, ’Mahashmashana’ might be his best to date, an album that ploughs a relentlessly adventurous furrow while striking a compelling balance between the epic and the intimate.

As the record builds to a final cathartic hushed scream, ‘Punisher’ marks a clear step forward, but one that remains as fundamentally graceful as all that has come before.

‘Midas’ has the excitement and energy of a debut album, but the wisdom and restraint that comes from experience, making it a touchstone for what a great band can achieve.

An intimate but confident record that reveals more of its magic with every listen.

Whether it’s a modern California of wildfires and livestreams, or a nostalgic glance at a James Dean, Marilyn Monroe make-believe - it’s Lana Del Rey’s world, we’re just living it.

Yves has carved out their own, trailblazing sound amid the racket of modernity and it truly feels like an awakening. Trapped somewhere between visceral punk, Oneohtrix Point Never and Dean Blunt, ‘Praise A Lord…’ is in fact like no other.

‘if i could make it go quiet’ has all the qualities of a blockbuster pop record - incessant hooks, A-list producer credits - but hone in on each track and you’ll find intimate vignettes that are fully-formed in themselves.

The 19-track remix record has elements of bubblegum-pop, screamo, rock, pop, hip hop and pretty much every genre you can think of, creating an album that is a masterpiece in its madness.

Not so much Marika 3.0 as the Marika who was always there, but tougher, stronger and more triumphant than ever.

These guys just made you want to flail your arms around and shout the lyrics. Heel-stomping music. God-forbid, head-banging music.

Swampy and tumultuous like a month’s worth of rain, the Dundalk five-piece have spared no expense in creating immersive, cavernous spaces of shoegazing, post-punk splendour.

Nothing Great About Britain permeates everything about this fantastic first record from the soon-to-be-star that is Tyron Frampton.

So, taking all the wide-eyed playfulness of their earlier work, and the confidence in creating a sonic tapestry of their latter, ‘Only God Was Above Us’ is both their most accomplished and most Vampire Weekend album yet.

Ultimately, ‘I Love You So F***ing Much’ is as confident, self-aware and ambitious as a record by a band who’d rocketed skyward last time around should be.

Endless Flowers is an amazing effort that deserves a place at the top of its genre. This album deserves to be heard and loved. Do yourself a favour and get yourself a copy once it hits the stores.

With seemingly none of that badass-ery from their classic late-’90s output diluted by the passage of time, ‘Little Rope’ sloshes up nothing less than a condensed, rocket-punch collection of ten three-minute bangers.

There may well be no such thing as a ten out of ten album, a level of perfection and flawlessness that is by all likelihood totally unobtainable; but it's hard to imagine anyone coming closer than these five men from New York.

Everything here has been given room to expand, songs drifting from dreamy ascension to full-blown rock revelation and back again. An album of immense power and conviction.

Full of heart and full of ideas, it’s big, clever and brilliantly odd.

She once again explores new ventures, crafting a pop album that celebrates the old classics as well as the new, and cements her status as a true pop trailblazer.

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

The record - which benefits from an open-minded choice of producer in Chairlift’s Patrick Wimberly - concludes with the soaring ‘Brothers Won’t Break’, a heart-warming reaffirmation of the Jarman union - and a roar of assurance to the Cribs faithful that they remain one of the most irrepressibly vital bands in Britain.

‘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.

The lyrics are a little more personal, the band a little more developed - it seems that this is the start of a new and exciting chapter for The Gaslight Anthem.

Doubling down on Lime Garden’s refreshingly unpretentious sound, ‘Maybe Not Tonight’ is a new indie disco essential.

This is a fully realised version of who and what they have always been.

Confined to merely six tracks, the ‘La vita nuova’ EP feels like it ends too soon - and that’s entirely symptomatic of how strong the songwriting is. In 2020, Christine is still truly in a league of her own.

One of the most endlessly intriguing albums of the year so far.

Across the record, the winking lyrical smarts are in full flow.

‘CHAOS NOW*’ might not have much of ‘80s Mancunian misery in its toolbox, but there’s an exhilarating meeting of grunge, pop-punk and indie with hip hop rhythms: Beck if he’d used a palette of early ‘00s MTV2.

It’s an album which documents a fierce imagination at play; a truly invigorating piece of work that pushes her songwriting forward.

Every second of ‘Wicked City’ feels meticulously thought through, the huge breadth of sonic terrain the duo cover the result of real care and attention paid at every juncture.

Life is too short to waste time. ‘The Myth…’ expands from this vital message, allowing the record to emerge as Biffy Clyro’s most emotionally powerful in years.

Perfume Genius is worthy of the hype, and the hyperbole: this is a fantastic record.

A masterclass in grandiose ferocity, the album harks back to the urgency of their early days and collides with the expansive melodies that underpinned much of their more recent output. Although on the surface the most aligned to their turn-of-the-century sound, ‘Ohms’ is filled with the twisted flourishes and unexpected juxtapositions that have guided the band’s lengthy career.

A gorgeous debut.

This is thoughtful, nuanced R&B that demonstrates Jorja’s kaleidoscopic feel for her genre, incorporating everything from neo-soul on the brooding title track, to flirting with dancehall on ‘Feelings’.

At a time when country-tinged indie rock is by no means in short supply in America - Wednesday, Waxahatchee and MJ Lenderman all spring to mind - Ratboys have earned their seat at the top table.

Haunting, heartbreaking and life-affirming, Angel Olsen’s songwriting talents soar to great heights in the mostly restrained palette here, offering the much needed space to wrestle with the complexities life has thrown at her.

The hard-fought glimmers of hope in the pain (“I guess I’ll stay,” he concludes, breaking into tears) prove the very point of the record, in its openness as brutally difficult as it is cathartic.

Where her debut ‘Not Your Muse’ saw her solidify her status as a truly modern voice within jazz and soul, ‘Woman Of Faces’ transports her to somewhere entirely otherworldly.

Call it chill wave, call it dream pop, call her a bedroom producer - this album’s full of enough variety and adventure to make such generalisations moot. A real triumph.

‘Immunity’ was a shoulder to cry on, a promise that it will all be okay, eventually. ‘Sling’ feels like that “eventually” coming true.

Synths bloom like the early morning rays of the sun, reaching out to a lover lost in the darkness. ‘Tu sais ce qu’il me faut’ celebrates seduction as he lusts over a beau; the way they walk, the way they dance, their body is celebrated in all its glory.

All-in-all, ‘Man Made’ is an impressively accomplished, ever-giving record that rarely fails to enchant.

There’s just enough instrumentation to add depth and texture to Vince’s characteristically excellent delivery, but the rapper still stands front and centre, allowing a less bombastic tone to shine. ... If you arrive looking for the hooks of ‘Norf Norf’ or the explosive chemistry of ‘BagBak’ you could be leaving half empty-handed. But if you’re here for Vince Staples, you might just see more of him than ever.

As intoxicating as its predecessor.

With the emotionally charged beats of ‘Black Mascara’, the candour of ‘Body Dysmorphia’ and the unfiltered soul of ‘Buss It Down’, it would be impossible for anyone to sleep on RAYE anymore.

‘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.

‘Roadrunner…’ sees Brockhampton silencing any of those who feared they might have lost their spark. It’s a record that - if it is truly one of their last - sees the lads going out with a bang.

Biting and abrasive in the best kind of ways, ‘Nightmare Vacation’ finds an artist stepping up into the hype that’s been surrounding her for years, and delivering on it tenfold. It will chew you up and spit you out, and you’ll love every minute of it.

The jazz-imbued one-two of ‘Light As Grass’ and ‘Could You Help Me’ gives the record a rich introduction, while ‘Sail Away’ descends into a heady, dance-tinged mist; by the time the funky gratitude of ‘The Racket’ closes proceedings (“I won’t let you bring me down”), it’s hard not to be in awe of the scale of her growth and transformation in every sense of the word.

Their most mature and concise work to date.

Kendrick’s sixth studio LP is a masterstroke - exquisitely fuelled by his love of his home city of Compton and his rage at his storied adversary, Drake.

Random Access Memories is, for all the DJ-on-camera dancing hype, an album in the proper sense of the word; these aren't thirteen dancefloor ready bangers, it's a grandiose statement of intent.

Setting such a high bar on your debut can be a poisoned chalice but Dave weathers the storm with his astute penmanship, impeccable musical taste and cool, collected delivery.