The streets of home are always going to stir emotions but rarely does that cocktail of of loneliness and belonging get articulated with the gut-felt precision that Prinzhorn Dance School manage on their third record.

It's the sound of Dirty Projectors just being themselves and fully justifying the royalty status Longstreth and Co. now enjoy.

This is all very Daughter (and very good).

Lyrically, the record feels like an exercise in catharsis, while sonically it’s like the exhale of relief which follows. Wistful and tenderly so, ‘Paradise Pop. 10’ is completely entrancing.

You'll either love it or hate it but, ignore the buzz, take it on it's own merits, and you might very well be rewarded.

There’s a pop sensibility never far from Maya and her collaborators (co-produced by Okkervil River’s Benjamin Lazar Davis, with credits too for bandmate Will Graefe, and fellow folky soul Christian Lee Hutson) that gives the record a well-masked determined nature, simultaneously familiar and exciting.

An impressive first outing, Spencer.’s skills as a producer and songwriter have never been more evident. Period.

‘DANDELION’ is pleasant if forgettable among the maelstrom elsewhere, and the sadness of ‘SOMEWHERE’ threatens to sink into lethargy, but overall, third time is largely lucky for Just Mustard.


In Highest Point In Cliff Town, Hooton Tennis Club have produced a debut that’s utterly irresistible: a summer soundtrack that makes staring out of the train window significantly less mundane; an album that restores positivity in the type of Mondays that Courtney Barnett knows oh so well.

Doe always hinted at such results from an LP, and Some Things Last Longer Than You delivers the lot and then some with devastating power and sincerity.

It's one gripped with thoughts of death and yet somehow it's is the very sound of being alive. Los Campesinos! are a band who've clearly grown up, but here, that's only a good thing.

Full of surprising innovations, it errs constantly between confusion and brilliance.

If there’s a curveball in what is a charmingly lo-fi release, it’s the higher vocal register he settles into for most of these tracks - something that might alienate fans of his tighter, poppier work circa ‘Salad Days’. Regardless, Mac’s back - for real, this time.

It’s far from The Hives choosing to rip up their well-thumbed rulebook, but it’d take a cold, cold heart not to be energised by this latest collection of suitably raucous rock’n’roll bangers.

Not only ambitious, Blood & Chemistry is also invigorating.

Strapped is a significant step forward from their debut; far more expansive and ambitious.

Electronic in the loosest, most deformed sense, Psychic rips up convention from the seams to the centre.

‘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.

Assume Form keeps that same desire [as The Colour In Anything] to break new ground, while taking it to the red line and managing to not outstay its welcome.

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.

A record both charming and bold, the dichotomy of upbeat indie-pop and brutally honest lyricism only adds to its appeal.

Another Language’ opener ‘New Topia’ is quite starkly different to their early work, losing much of the dark overtones in favour of a gentle build and furious, ecstatic release. From a distance, it’s the kind of no-holds-barred heavy rock sound that Mogwai made their own, but This Will Destroy You take it a step further, pushing the whole recording into distortion.

Most importantly, though, ‘Santhosam’ lives up to its name, as a record that reflects happiness.

It’s the sound of a band breaking the reunion mould, making firm strides forward and leaving their legacy in the dust.

With its warmth and energy, it will easily see you through these cold winter months.

This is her most defiantly disco record to date. Where ‘Overpowered’ or ‘Take Her Up To Monto’ might veer off on prog or avant garde jaunts, ‘Róisín Machine’ is lit exclusively by the glitterball.

Ending with the sprawling ‘Alone Piano’, the record catapults to spheres beyond. Standing open-armed and resolute for whatever might follow, Let The Dancers Inherit The Earth is an echoing cry for a bright tomorrow.

It all sounds a little inconceivable on paper, but is tied together and brought to life by a singer-songwriter who evades pigeonholing--on purpose or accidentally, it doesn’t really matter--and provides a debut that’s all her own.

If Humanz was a reaction about a world that seemed to be heading to hell, then The Now Now is a more spaced-out affair, stripped of its star-studded collaborations and bathed in the apparent apathy of the modern age.

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’s a breathless record, one that threatens to last an eternity--such is the speed and dazzling depth at which James expresses himself.

Frequently unintelligible, and downright bizarre lyrics only serve to add to the personality of his genre-bending music. Ultimately, Cows On Hourglass Pond is a new kind of psych-folk that Avey Tare can proudly call his own.

This follow-up work of pent-up aggression; of complete contrast to snappy pop-punk; has every chance of becoming the band's seminal work.

Inventive, rough-edged, and darkly witty at times, Ratboys’ second record isn’t just a well-crafted listen; it’s thoughtful, tender, and incisive at every turn.

A well-rounded collection of songs, ‘Girlfriend Material’ shows Lauren as an artist coming into her own, and her enjoyment shines through in her music.

Because despite the weight that this album carries, the overall feel is of a celebration of life itself.

It’s an intense, dizzy trip that takes quite some digesting, but with brilliant results.

‘Stay In Touch’ is a hip-shaking highlight, and the one true surprise here, but largely Marauder simply sees Interpol proving their worth once again, and their prowess for creating bleak, blackened indie rock that’s full of feeling.

The separate successes of ‘Turn Into’ and ‘Everybody Works’ cement that Jay Som is absolutely a name to know, and this LP in particular proves that in addition to consistent, honest, attention-worthy output she’s also willing to poke around the margins of her comfort zone.

New Moon is a rare and very special album.

The band’s new, self-titled album sees them ageing gracefully, but not without tweaks, even if reinvention is too strong a word.

It’s unlikely they’ll stay still for any prolonged period of time, but for now Nai are tighter knit than ever before.

All in all, Summer Camp have offered up a wholly enjoyable second effort, possessing of a homespun charm that bears more similarities to those early Myspace demos than predecessor 'Welcome To Condale'.

Its steady pace and relatively tame nature (by his standards) means it might not be his most immediately striking release, but it’s still testament to his talent as an astute alt-pop songwriter.

It’s nothing short of pure, menacing excitement.

At the heart of Quiet Signs remains Jessica Pratt’s acquired taste of a voice and her penchant for dainty instrumental work, but the record’s palpable atmospherics might be enough to win over previous detractors.

Panda Bear Meets The Grim Reaper is dense, slippery, wily, and flung together effortlessly like a meticulously rehearsed sleight of hand. Boy, is it worth the legwork.

Will and Alison will probably shift gears again on their next album, but Silver Eye is likely to become a standout record in their ever-morphing canon.

Wonderfully courageous, Gibson's reflections make her latest record her most accomplished work yet.

‘Club Shy’ is staple Shygirl, re-packaged, pre-remixed, pre-prepared for the club: a dose of thumping post-midnight trance, a playful extension of self with all the irreverence, at her creative high.

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.

With the lyrical focus on family life, this record is their most personal, powerful and cathartic yet.

Although the execution of ‘Masquerade’ sometimes feels uneven, there is plenty to be excited about. Whether Cardinals become the next big band to come out of Ireland, only time will tell, but as of now, they’re certainly making a strong case for it.

From what they’ve cooked up here, it’s hard to imagine hearing a record this immersive and mesmerising from anyone else.

It’s this confidence that really shines throughout the album. Ware’s vocals are at the forefront, no longer hidden amongst a cloud of heavy electronics.

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.

Despite – and seemingly deliberately - not carrying the widespread immediacy of more recent releases, it presents James as he currently stands; at once nostalgic and forward-thinking, and firmly back behind the decks.

In Woman, they’ve bypassed the hurdle of dangerous, immaterial preconceptions by creating the ultimate debut album: a future classic brimming with effortless, tangible love songs.

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.

For an artist usually so meticulous with her vision, that these are able to sound so airy, almost frivolous - and, indeed, they were recorded back in 2020 as more of a exercise than intended for release - makes this curio of an EP all the more engaging.

Decidedly mature yet still with that same self-aware playfulness, this is undoubtedly his most eclectic offering to date.

‘Cool’’s sharp pop unfolds with a satisfying lightness of touch.

There is not an ounce of fat on this record, nor one wasted note.

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

Brave in its deeply honest expression, it’s a beautiful record that tactfully captures the often confusing and contradicting feelings when truly in love.

There’s something in the way Sylvan Esso craft their music, weaving folksy melodies and acoustic instruments with synths and 808s, that feels like exactly what pop music should be: punchy and pure.

It touches the heart and head with its examinations of love, lust and desire, and while it’s sometimes still a challenging listen, it’s easy to indulge in.

They still sound like they’re on a process of self-discovery, just a couple of steps away from striking gold.

In boldly delving into their pop sensibilities, the group have created an album that encompasses their intriguing convictions for different genres and refined it into a record of high quality.

Their particular brand of punk never pauses for breath: it’s thirteen unabating tracks, fired up on adrenaline and the thrill of just not giving a shit.

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.

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.

Hundred Waters lay out all their cards on this album and use every single tiny part for all its worth.

TOPS are a rare band that have an covalent bonding chemistry with one another, and the results are a bright, sparkling album that continues their legacy as some of the best revivalists around.

Unexplored avenues, Nutriblended genre combinations, and left-field pop gold have always been Santigold’s bag, and though the price tag here may be 99¢, she’s never sounded freer.

[Barnes has created] the best experimental discordant noise pop he's worked on since 'Hissing Fauna'.

Always vivid and often affecting, the record deals with love and loss in a way that constantly resonates.

With one foot in the classic NYC underground scenes that paved the way, ‘Underneath’ is pure bass-led, disco ball-flecked Studio 54, while the dance-punk footprints of ESG are all over ‘Cities’’ irrepressible hook and ‘Compromised’ tips a hat to godmother Debbie Harry. ‘Gentle Grip’ sounds timeless.

Fresh Blood is the kind of album that harks back to music’s glorious history but does so in a way that remains fresh and compelling. It’s an album of revelatory qualities.

It’s another reinvention from the prolific outfit, a joyous ten-track delight, just in time for (our) summer.

Howlin' works impeccably as a whole. Equally uplifting and calming, it's the dancefloor via the beach.

This album is, in reality, the sound of perfectionists giving into instinct. And once they shun exactitude and all its side effects, they emerge with a dazzling debut.

It may not have the depth of some of their counterparts, but it easily makes up for it with refreshing, confident fun.

While ‘Big Fish Theory’ saw the rapper centre stage, relentless and omnipresent, on ‘FM!’ he lets us tune in to a calmer world, one which he dips in and out of when he pleases, filling in the blanks and staying in the fast lane.

Jungle’s latest is more breezy bops than all-out sum­mer smashes, but nev­er­the­less extremely rich and warm in sound.

Tip of the Sphere is Cass McCombs’ most elegiac and profoundly literary album, a eulogy for the end of times and a mass articulation of the absurd world of modernity.

This is a record dedicated to every band who’ve had to scrape together every last penny just to stay alive, and the result is an album that yearns to be heard.

Himalyan is loud, raucous, massive amounts of fun and it has style, swagger and teeth.

On Bad Witch, Trent Reznor has curated a feeling, an atmosphere, an idea.

Endlessly creative and euphoric, the MacGyvers of music have created a record that’s not only politically charged, but brimming with the joys of life and creativity.

An intriguing new chapter from Emmy The Great that carves out a world you can dive into.

Performance doesn’t necessarily take White Denim in a drastically different direction, but it captures so many of the different sides of the band’s multi-faceted sound that it feels expansive and wholesome.

Indiana successfully abuses the boundaries of genre to create a melancholic tome of songs that dares to be inventive from its first steps to its dying moments.

The most obvious uniting factor between this record and their previous ones, in fact, is their ability to write a whole host of bulletproof choruses, and it’s tricky to imagine coming unstuck from this album any time soon.

There’s so much to take in, it’s almost hard to know if it’s even any good. Between these sensory overloads, however, we get the funky bop of ‘All Wordz Are Made Up’ and the acoustic lullaby of ‘Think Before You Drink’.

A deeply thoughtful and yet infinitely danceable collection of songs, it balances honest truths with taunting vocals and bursts of synth-prompted energy.

Even with the twisting and turning of different styles Gallows remain ferocious until the last drop.