If it could be more dynamic, there’s no doubting the precision of the songwriting, as each track digs its way into your brain, lodging itself in the shadows.

Anybody yearning for reinvention or experimentation is going to be let down, but the fact that Building a Beginning remains so in thrall to Lidell’s soul heroes suggests that perhaps such drastic action wouldn’t be a good idea anyway.

Rich, imaginative, and more than a little strange.

A lot of it, like album closer ‘Homesick’ featuring none--other than Coldplay’s Chris Martin, feels overthought and calculated. It’s a shame because those moments where Dua Lipa truly shines are those moments where she was allowed to just be herself.

There are fleeting moments to enjoy. But while aiming for something epic in scope, the five-piece have again delivered an album that will keep wheels turning for another few years.

It’s a heftier beast that still reaches all-guns-blazing crescendos like it’s no biggie, but for the most part is slower, louder, and easier to lose oneself in than its rapid-fire younger brother, resounding proof that Spring King are still on an upward trajectory with no signs of slowing.

This second LP Crush Crusher sees her grab all the promise of her 2016 debut and years at the heart of her hometown’s DIY scene and turn it into something great.

For such an introspective record, it sure sounds like community - a portrait of an artist ready to lean into her fears.

It’s sharp and serious but without the navel-gazing feel that sometimes makes ‘Appalling Human’ a difficult one to truly get stuck into.

Utilising a considered selection of guest vocalists, it takes a keener focus on rap and afrobeats, making good on the breadcrumb trail of singles that have tided fans over in the five-year album interim.

While at times ‘Violet…’ shows Lana’s fine lyrical prowess, quotes primed for Tumblr captions, most of the time it’s more sixth former trying their best to impress at their first slam poetry event.

If ‘DISCO’ might not be the most progressive or groundbreaking album of the year, it’s certainly up there as one of the most charming.

‘Life In Your Glass World’ never shies away from its obvious love for more mainstream-friendly rock, more often than not hitting the mark. The band thrive in their more overt indie moments but lose traction on the likes of the more pedestrian ‘Thin Air’ or the experimental electronics of ‘Fight Beat’.

Not everything about ‘BUMMER’ is fully perfected just yet, but there’s plenty to feel upbeat about.

On ‘Baw Baw Black Sheep’, Rejjie Snow reaches for a more conceptual take on his laid-back sound, but stumbles on the execution.

The instrumentals are less head-on, giving way to subtleties that are new for WWPJ as intricate guitar lines meander alongside the vocal melodies, the touchpoint with the rest of the band’s back catalogue. The less dense sound swings between lightening the tone and turning it far more melancholy.

Among its mix of roistering anthems and melodramatic balladry, ‘9’ exudes a supple confidence throughout, engaging in some of the most enthralling Australian psychedelia to emerge from 2021 (of which there is plenty).

Committed to tape with the help of Rich Turvey, on ‘Now Or Whenever’ Spector strike between the two eras of their sound, tempering all out alternative bravado with yearningly bittersweet baritone-crooning ballads.

It’s either aural comfort food, or all just a bit, well, obvious. It’s written to a formula for sure. But it’s one that’s served them well, nevertheless.

Between his emotive vocal delivery and brutally honest lyricism, Bakar has produced an impressive and accomplished debut, well worth the wait.

George Ezra knows his strengths, he knows his audience, and he’s sticking to it come hell or high water. The result is still yet another charming record that’s hard not to love.

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.

There are plenty of good ideas across ‘Suckerpunch’. It just could’ve done with fewer bad ones.

This isn’t necessarily one to win The Vaccines a new generation, but for those already won over, it’ll prove worth the listen.

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

While the album ends with an echoed sigh of melancholic relief: “Finally I’m on my own”. It’s indicative of the confidence that runs through the band’s long-awaited debut, one that paints ‘Teething’ as both the party and the comedown.

‘The 8th Cumming’ might have humour within it, but there’s also substance to be found among all the bodily substances.

Full of heart and introspective, candid lyricism, ‘Hope Handwritten’ is an overall uplifting offering, an ode to navigating the joys and messiness of falling in and out of love, and finding one’s inner strength through the chaos.

Rkives doesn’t shed any light on Rilo Kiley, there’s no standout defining track that was flippantly consigned to a b-side or the vaults. Instead, it’s a collection which provides more satisfaction than surprise.

Winding orchestral flights propel ‘Innocent Weight’, in part redeeming an effort that covers little in the way of new ground, while timely lyrical takes command attention yet lack the frequency to shake off neighbouring songs sinking under their own unwieldy mass.

It takes a while for Preoccupations to find their new groove on ‘Arrangements’. But, when they hit that stride in the latter half, it’s a terrific one.

For a group whose best moments are when they teeter on just about every edge imaginable, it's just... boring.

Despite its heavier moments, ‘Which Way to Happy’ is a genuinely healing listen; an album to get cosy with while its music lovingly soaks your wounds.

The first half is exciting, accomplished and compelling--but then it wanders absent-mindedly into nondescript territory after the midway point and doesn't navigate its way back home.

Much like that fancy sports car, Turn Blue is big, bombastic and very well made. Just, at points, a teensy bit ostentatious.

This delight of an album might bend and warp reality, but it’s also a rare gem because underneath all of its trickery it still projects back a reflection of something completely grounded.

Both varied and beautifully evocative, Voyageur is the perfect listen for merging wintery wistfulness with ethereal wonder.

White Hot Moon is unassuming. It doesn’t start out or end with a defining statement but somewhere along the ride, the grind of day-to-day life is drowned out in a synthesis of reflection and fuzzy warmth.

What begins as a deeply personal commentary eventually evolves into a world-renowned producer taking the attention away from his ability to refine others’ work, alternately placing the spotlight over his own voice, with its startling ability to carry a tale of kindred love, loss and the weight of fame.

Tender New Signs may be an exhausting listen but it is definitely a rewarding one.

Foo Fighters’ ninth is, then, more interesting than one might’ve expected.

Energising Sleigh Bells with rocket-fuel, Jessica Rabbit stands up as the band’s most consistent record since ‘Treats’.

Consider it a curious concept explored by two-thirds of the group that perhaps shouldn't distract you from revisiting 'The Grind Date'.

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.

All in all, it’s a melodic, sprawling record to wig-out to; and one that means that Clear Shot hits the mark indeed.

What seems to work best--in the fact that it stands out from other pop-punk solo artists--is the more hypnotic, vintage cuts.

Kiwanuka's approach may be old fashioned but his is a sound full of warmth and subtlety.

[The album is] a reminder of musically, just what a great band the Flips themselves actually are.

Nothing within the album paves way for the future--instead, it feels like an exercise in honouring the past.

Whether viewed as empowered statement from a newly-free artist, or simply as a great record from pop’s new princess of darkness, ‘I Disagree’ is in fact, extremely agreeable indeed.

It may not rock the boat stylistically, with her influences always ever-present, but ‘Time Bend And Break The Bower’ is an experience worth immersing yourself in by unravelling the meaning or just following Sinead’s lead down the rabbit hole.

This is an album that asks for patience, and only on occasion is it duly rewarded.

Driven by Zara’s unwavering vocals and energetic delivery, ‘Venus’ is icy, crystallised and super fun - “fit for a goddess,” she says - and, aside from being a slight hodgepodge of genres, it’s a lush flex of skill.

Silver Wilkinson is an album that combines all the facets of Bibio’s character that have made him such an interesting and, at times, frustrating musician.

On the whole, the album makes for difficult listening and it's hard to engage with.

At the end of The National Health, you won't be disappointed, but you won't be itching for more.

Throughout, United Crushers teases with an array of complex stick-work and trickling synths. Everything suggests that Poliça have finally drawn straws and found something to stick with--and they definitely haven’t picked the shortest.

Margaret still sounds the most at home with her string instruments, but her foray into experimenting with electronic music has paid off.

He hasn’t lost his knack for a great pop hook, as demonstrated by the bubbling synths and snappy 808s on ‘It’s Good To Be Back’. It certainly is.

On the one hand, Brutalism feels less bloated than any of its predecessors, and a number of sharp production touches ensure that some of its tracks are excellent. ... On the other hand, the album is missing some of The Drums’ lo-fi charm.

This is a record scored through, unmistakably, with a desire to have some fun.

Rise Ye Sunken Ships is a monster of an album, rich in credibility and one that is often raucous, but never noisy.

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

While it may be an album with a fairly prescribed pattern, it's one that is done so well and embellished so cutely, that it leaves you feeling an enormous sense of contentment.

An accomplished debut but surely only the mere beginnings of a promising career.

A record which thrives on evoking feeling and catharsis, while remaining committed to their personal influences, on Doom Days they’ve managed to deftly build a conceptual world not all too different to the one we’re facing right now, and that feels like a triumph in itself.

Like many other soundtracks, ‘Fantasy’ creates a mood - nostalgic; euphoric - and there’s a clear thread throughout that ties these thirteen tracks together. But soundtracks are also often intended to feature in the background, and ultimately ‘Fantasy’ too easily fades into it.

Undoubtedly there’s riches to be found here but the treasure map is harder to follow than ever.

There’s undeniably magical moments here, and taken in small doses it can be a cosmic voyage. All in one go though, its sheer scale can be as daunting as the vastness of what lies beyond the stratosphere.

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.

Aqualung has been ingeniously invigorated.

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

Jersey Devil comes with a real sense of sharp focus; cleverly worked melodies and handsomely crafted choruses come to the fore, pushing the woozy soundscapes to the back.

She hasn’t managed to effectively distill her many ideas into something that sounds cohesive After seven years away, that feels like a bit of a let-down.

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.

A record that intertwines effortlessly whilst showcasing flair beyond belief, Alone For The First Time is authentic, new and first and foremost captivating.

The sound of two artists pushing each other forward makes for a fascinating listen. This isn’t just the sound of two polar opposites coming together and hoping something sticks. This is a group that have earned their right to be heard. They should be taken seriously.

Until The Tide Creeps In is a record totally out of step with any modern music scene, and all the more timeless and special for it.

This is a maddened work that deals with its own conscience; a debut grappling with heavy topics and conquering them.

Branching out musically is a bold step that pays off in flashes, but the riff work in ‘Welcome to Hell’ and ‘Jailbird’’s brief guitar solo confirm that, at heart, Crocodiles are strongest with guitars in hand.

QTY is as timeless, compelling and clever as you could hope for first time round.

From this new personal phase, Flume’s latest techno-charged offering upscales the drops, fidgety distortion and replay value that has proved a constant in his playbook.

IDER are back at what they do best, providing a glimmering sense of hope that we aren’t alone with our anxieties.

When so much of what Juanita had written for Until the Lights Fade clearly involves a folk-rock flavour, it’s a shame it wasn’t fleshed out accordingly.

Powell’s music is for sweaty, unconcerned nights of utter debauchery--the kind of whirlwind Saturday night where there’s no way you’re getting home until at least midday. This makes listening to the album as a whole a frankly exhausting experience.

Even the weakest Libs composition is a standard many British songwriters can only aspire to, to this day. If nothing else, it’s heartwarming that the story is still unfolding for the Likely Lads.

Colors is Beck at his most exuberant, concocting weird, wonderful dancefloor fillers like a mad disco scientist. Good things come to those who wait.

If Temples needed to prove that they were more than talented revivalists, then Volcano should silence the doubters. Sure, you’re unlikely to find a Stormzy sample buried within its midst, but Temples’ second statement shows that innovation and notable progress can still sound classic.

Swim Deep have written a youthful, entertaining debut that it’s hard to find fault with, and they graduate from B-Town with a first class degree.

The firebrand guitarist has teamed up with a veritable gang of pals to create an album that's pulls no less punches than her earlier work--if a little more thoughtful.

‘Petrichor’ is a passion project, all about indulging the kinds of whims that don’t fit the Hawk and a Hacksaw mould. On that front, she’s succeeded.

Despite the album featuring several enjoyable moments, though, the listener is left feeling that it’s somewhat rambling and unfocused, and could possibly have benefited from the band leaving themselves more time for their ideas to gestate.

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.

At times the record may not hang together, but it makes up for that in its colour, its audacity, and its unabashed sense of pride at giving just about anything a go.

The echoic wisps and nebulous smoke clouds from their first album have been significantly dialled-back, resulting in a more taut, wiry sound that feels both more focussed and more sinister.

‘Euphoric’ is grand, inspiring and convincing - and feels like summer love bottled up.

The result is one of this year's most welcome collaborations. Definitely worth the ten-year wait.

Musically rose-tinted, ‘Poster Girl’ is pure pop escapism.