As stirring as some of the material is, there are a number of tracks where the weighty lyrical themes are coupled with languid and ponderous melodies which drag the pace right down to a deathly crawl.

There’s so much going on here that it can be borderline overwhelming. It’s a record that’s enigmatic, a little deceptive in places, and thoroughly gripping throughout.

Across its 13 tracks, there’s a chemistry that can come only via years of experience and companionship, and the result is an album that feels at once nostalgic and enchanting.

It’s huge, expansive, bonkers and brilliant. It’s RAYE at her very core, and it’s fantastic.

Sampha’s journey to now has developed a wonderfully versatile artist, and on Process he succeeds in tying these strands of his musicianship together into a record that’s concise and focused.

A master of eulogising the grubby underbelly, Baxter’s is the kind of voice that’s utterly out of step with the modern, fearful, social media-courting world, and all the better for it.

‘DEACON’ confidently celebrates love in all its spiritual glory, with an unwavering focus on the good. In his sweetest moments, serpentwithfeet’s joy is palpable, paired with an unwavering sensuality that underpins each of the album’s eleven tracks.

It's a swaggering victory lap for two artists at the peak of their creativity; it's a record that sees their talents fused in the most cohesive way; it's a coming together of immense talents.

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.

The narrative drawn by Marling throughout is at times heart-stopping, segues and recurrent motifs creating effortless enjambment.

An album that will follow you for hours, if not days.

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.

‘To Hell With It’ is a heady mix of ’00s genres and references that only seem to work together because it’s delivered with just the right amount of earnestness.

There’s no question that a little bit of Lido’s formidable live energy is lost in the translation here, but ‘Miss Colombia’ remains a vibrant, accessible introduction to her boundary-defying body of work.

Her sixth album is a masterpiece, showcasing her ability to meld reliable sound palettes with some audacious new tricks.

It’s a testament to his talents that he can produce an album that encapsulates his weird and beautiful world, which is full of more questions than answers.

Fontaines DC have crafted a clear, unedited picture of who they are and what they’re made of. It’s a joy to witness.

It’s cleverly written and produced too, with motifs (both sonic and lyrical) seeping from one track to the other. In all, this makes ‘Raven’ completely alluring, and offers a soundtrack for melancholic late-night drives through buzzing cities.

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

With Koi No Yokan the band have not only delivered on their promises, but exceeded them so, whilst remaining one of the most engaging but remarkable heavy bands of our times.

Together the pair [Kevin Morby & Aaron Dessner] have crafted perhaps the most vivid and essential record of his career.

Pushing nearly 30 years in the game, JARV IS... still an absolute one-of-a-kind.

LP1 is a brave first step that she had to take. It’s not perfect, but anything this expressive and personally vital rarely is.

At the end of the day, what Matt Maltese does best is conjure kitchen sink dramedies. And with ‘Krystal’, his ability to do that is as strong as ever. The melodies feel more like accompaniments to the stories; a canvas on which to paint. But the wry yet heartbreaking lyrics that accompany it shows an artist who has grown. As enviably funny as ever, but this time a little more self-aware.

It all feels remarkably familiar, but given the record’s pedigree, that’s far from a bad thing.

In its refusal to sound anything like its alt-pop predecessors, ‘With A Hammer’ is a breath of fresh air: innovative yet familiar, lackadaisically cool yet brave, a brilliant and sparkling window into the future. Its idiosyncrasies, consistently and wonderfully oxymoronic, are its greatest strength.

Their most complete record by a serious stretch, it's a work that laughs, cries, detests, adores and above anything else inspires.

William Doyle is unafraid to bring intellectualism into pop while never letting it feel like an exercise. And ‘Your Wilderness Revisited’ shows that he's kept his knack for mixing the two into a heady blend that’s easy to get lost in.

Both playful and powerful in its delivery, ‘Kitchen Sink’ may be built around the challenges so many of us still face - and are angered by - on a near-daily basis, but it also offers a bit of light and - most importantly - liberating relief.

The singer-songwriter’s most comprehensive release to date, turns up the production slickness while sacrificing none of his affable, boyish charm.

There’s an expert tenderness to her stories and their delivery, one cut through by often-unexpected melodic switches. Her ability to hold back, to seemingly cut a track short, brims with confidence.

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.

‘Loud Without Noise’ is flawless. Wildly ambitious, it works to showcase perfectly why the Merseysiders have garnered such a fervent fanbase to date – and just how far they could go.

This stylistic clusterfuck is likely to satisfy those who gobbled up Crack Cloud’s similarly ambitious shift to expansive instrumentation. And if you’re just downright confused by the whole preposterous thing, that’s probably just fine too.

There are points here where it threatens to remain a little samey – the ‘80s radio pop of ‘Yesterday’ quickly becomes repetitive, while ‘ICU’ hints at something more yet never quite gets going – but mostly ‘Sniff More Gritty’ is another solid release.

While at points lingering a little too long, ‘When A Flower Doesn’t Grow’ is a solid outing overall, able to pack a striking punch alongside its messages of genuine substance.

Indian instrumentation adds a new tool to Damon’s sonic arsenal. In the wrong hands, the results could be gimmicky but here the Gorillaz formula never waivers. .... The decision to mine the Eastern take on death - a much more optimistic alternative to our Western one - frequently yields joyful results.

For a project that could have held unreasonable expectations, it overdelivers time and time again. Both parts of the duo are on their A-game in equal parts.

Just as the record threatens to get Too Much, as ‘How Do You Sleep Tonight’ wrings out its last notes, the crowning glory that is ‘Tonite’ kicks in.

The band’s trademark sampledelic sound provides a tasteful glimpse of the familiar, while also sidestepping overt pastiche, remaining consistently fresh throughout.

With PUNK, CHAI have defied all expectations, decreeing that everybody to them is cute--and they don’t need to be.

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.

PVRIS might have been to hell and back, but a new era is here, and it’s utterly brilliant.

Despite all the doubts and the self-admonishing, in a strange way you won’t find a more affirming album all year.

These 14 tracks are so sonically rich with a multitude of textures, each listen peeling back just one measly layer; Molly’s vocal hooks and turns of phrase will remain in your brain days after the last listen.

At 15 tracks long, he occasionally falters under the weight of his own abundance, but there are so many great sweets in the pick’n’mix bag that you don’t really mind the odd underwhelming chew.

Ultimately, there’s a charming purity that runs through ‘New Long Leg’, and a sense that Dry Cleaning wasn’t the product of a masterplan. Instead it’s the by-product of the lives they were already leading which gives an uncompromising human quality to this debut.

The Underside Of Power is heavy going, but completely, necessarily so.

‘Happier Than Ever’, then, is not just a triumph in progressing a signature sound into new territories, but a lesson in how to own your reality with confidence and class.

‘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.

To call untitled unmastered a follow-up would be unfair, but what it reveals is that rap’s most innovative has a lot more left in his locker.

It’s novelistic. It’s smart. Of course it is, it’s a Destroyer album.

Both heavy and cumbersome and light and uncertain, it will prove difficult for some to find an entrance to it, but once you’re inside you’ll find yourself enveloped by its bold experimentation and the stunning way they execute it.

It starts with a slow drip and builds to a raging flood. It’s irresistible and so eloquently convincing that despite their claims of failure, Protomartyr are unstoppable.

Christopher Owens has emerged from it with potentially one of the year’s best records.

They may be using Morbid Stuff to face their demons head on, but there’s a sense of reckless abandon to the whole thing that makes it entirely freeing.

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.

It’s uncompromising yet nonetheless inventive, with eccentric flows and inspired production choices.

‘I Inside the Old Year Dying’ will likely take some time to fully unravel, but on the surface, it looks like a daring return.

Yes, Squid have travelled the world, but they have also returned home with a sense of self that’s stronger than ever, as sharp as a razor dripping with freshly drawn blood.

On all fronts, with ‘Daddy’s Home’, St Vincent has delivered spectacularly.

‘The Overload’ lives up to its hype with flying colours. Brilliantly constructed to unfurl like some sordid soap opera of Brexit Britain, it brims with vignettes populated by instantly-recognisable caricatures of the now.

‘The Art Of The Lie’ won’t act as an accessible gateway into John Grant’s catalogue, but for those already sold, it’s a deeper excavation into the mind of the man.

A dystopian, focused pessimism that sounds (unfortunately) exactly like the world outside, but doesn’t sound quite like another band on the planet. A perfect soundtrack to nagging doubts and creeping realisations.

After Saturation's freewheeling spirit and an insatiable appetite for fun, Iridescence had to confront the past nine months, and make a statement as to how the band move forward. It does so emphatically.

The result is a dynamic, difficult-to-predict listen that gently but deftly rebuts anyone who thinks they already know what Divorce are all about.

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.

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

Aat large, the album is a quiet predator.

A bright, well constructed and boldly vivid first outing, showing a first rate ear for instantly osmosing melody, this debut is written for the Christine in everyone.

There’s a track or two that don’t add much to the album’s direction, ‘Maggot’ being one of them. But on the whole, this feels like Amyl and the Sniffers finding their purpose. It’s something to behold.

All three members are now capable of operating on a different standing, and when I See You strikes best, it’s when these level-ups lock limbs.

Jack Antonoff’s fingerprints are easy to spot. The producer layers Taylor’s intimate stories with electronic drums that push certain moments to understated crescendos.

Deafheaven finally look comfortable in their many different skins, their opposing worlds gliding together seamlessly, able to change between brutally heavy and light as air in seconds.

It makes for a quiet reinvention in the face of adversity, with Le Bon as stylistically light on her feet as ever.

Accompanied with her scatter board samples and untold charm, ‘Juno’ is a resounding celebration of existence and Remi Wolf is the MC.

A gorgeous debut.

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

In short, Silences is the sound of an artist grown tremendously in confidence and hitting her stride.

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

It’s a record that does more than just pitch him just leagues ahead of anyone else in the game; it’s a portrait of a man who’s more than happy to invent a whole new one.

Laura Marling crafts yet another hard-to-pin, experimental, statement. A shape-shifting artist who never pauses, the record patters quietly away in a flurry of footsteps and birdsong, as the elusive morning finally arrives.

Less wildly daring than its predecessors, yet remaining totally assured in its vision, ‘Seeking New Gods’ stands as another finely-crafted addition to Gruff Rhys’ illustrious repertoire.

It all works together, amping up the winking, cheeky side of country while also showing CMAT to be an artist enthralled by the genre but not beholden to it.

Suede maintain their magnitude through emotional craft - single ‘15 Again’ is the perfect microcosm of ‘Autofiction’’s ups and downs, its euphoric chorus built around painstaking regret. In essence, ‘Autofiction’ finds Suede still fiercely in motion.

A truly seminal record, ‘Ultra Truth’ is a radiant voyage for Daniel Avery, and for everyone who dares join him for the experience.

Measured and calm where ‘I, Gemini’ was erratic, and packing some of the strongest pop punches we’ve heard in yonks, Let’s Eat Grandma look like they could go anywhere from here.

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.

For those who missed the rabble-rousing of ‘Dogrel’ but liked the darkness of ‘A Hero’s Death’, this record splits the perfect difference, sealing it along the middle with the superglue of a band who now know exactly where they’re going. Truth be told, they’ve never been more at home.

For the most part this is a flawless, breathless lap around both pop and "underground" music. 'Devotion' is the sound of modern pop, modern love - and heartbreak.

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

‘Classic Objects’ walks the line between art and humanity, between nature and fabrication, between the real and the conceptual. It’s the audible equivalent of a painting affixed with human hair.

‘People Watching’ is a bleak but astonishing rumination on our current times, viewed through the lens of Sam’s whirlwind past few years - an album that undoubtedly firms up his position as one of the great songwriters of our time.

Each track feels like a different corner of Pusha T’s mind, all coming together to form a complete brain, glimmering with glitz and glamour on the surface and exploring darkness and deep thought below. If this is ‘The Prelude’, imagine what Pusha T can do with the rest.

Muchacho is a record which can soothe even the darkest nights and moods.

Totalling eight songs and clocking in at just over 30 minutes, Two Parts Together feels surprisingly well-rounded and complete, with strange journeys taking place within each track, and enough crunch to keep things exciting right up to its thundering climax.

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

It’s unlikely to win over the naysayers, but, for those already enamoured with their kitchen sink Dadaism, ‘Stumpwork’ is yet more magic from Dry Cleaning.