‘Marriage’ is the sound of Deap Vally tapping back into what makes them tick, and lays the groundwork for their most exciting era yet.

It should come as little surprise that Lydia has spent time on the standup circuit, and it’s this ability to send up any notions of seriousness that’s Gustaf’s greatest trick. Add some suitable spiky, metronomic riffs and ‘Audio Drag…’ is anything but.

For now, it’s hard to know whether ‘…Pt. 1’ is indicative of the overall direction of ‘Fever Dreams’, or merely one facet of it. Either way, it’s the polished sound of Johnny Marr putting his best foot forward.

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.

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.

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.

At its best, ‘CRAWLER’ is fresh, bold and inventive in a way we’ve never seen IDLES attempt to be before.

This is handsome, but not essential.

Not only are many of the tracks here vocal driven, there are some single-worthy hooks too.

Pip Blom haven’t changed their sound, but they do feel like they’ve got to know it better.

It’s a strange mixture of comfort and malaise, but it’s probably the most honest document of the past eighteen months, too.

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 sheer breadth of sound is astonishing, yet easily pulled together by Lindsey’s distinctive wavering tones and lyrical impact.

A riveting fullness echoes throughout the record.

The War on Drugs are reliable - not in the sense that they’re workhorses, but more in that Adam’s years-long close study of guitar rock has now evidently become an incontestable mastery.

Geese manage to add interesting new wrinkles to their sound, suggesting that, in time, the post-punk rulebook could yet be ripped up all over again.

‘Blue Banisters’ presents a collection of sun-kissed moments and hazy memories, free from judgement and firmly rooted in place.

‘Actually…’ delivers a fairground of gleeful unpredictability populated by usual Deerhoof tropes: elliptical song titles, a whole gamut of biblical references, and disjointed rhythms that prance majestically between tempos and motifs.

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.

‘Prioritise Pleasure’ manages to challenge accepted norms and help to exorcise long-buried demons; it’s powerful to the last drop.

It’s a rousing ending, and one of the few mesmerising moments on the album: it’s just a shame that the band don’t commit to one route or the other.

For all its ambition, however, it occasionally leans a little too heavily on the cliched conventions of certain genres, particularly pop and dance. ... Nonetheless, its ambition and creative concept can still be applauded, and there are some hidden gems to be found

It does everything a debut should, dipping into multiple pools but uniting them all with a consistent outlook and a clear voice. Joy Crookes, by rights, should be riding ‘Skin’ into the big leagues.

‘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.

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

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

Hayden Thorpe is still feeling out the next leg of his musical journey, but has the distinct advantage of making every left turn he takes sound assured.

As he says on opener ‘Good Morning’, Matt is here to help “you push your demons away”. And 13 beautifully-constructed ballads might just be the ticket.

His shifts in sound are as delicate as his music, continuing to showcase his ability to blur styles with unparalleled precision.

What could have become overly sentimental instead presents as subtle and sincere. The sincerity is elevated by their understated tones, harking back to the beauty of Elliott Smith but swept into now by crisp production and experimental flourishes.

Multi-faceted in both personality and musical style, ‘Access Denied’ has proven itself every bit worth the wait.

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).

‘Bright Magic’ flourishes at its most calm and erupts at its most fervent, lending itself neatly to a state of anxious tension, sonically chronicling the faded walk back from the club, when dawn and dusk blur into irrelevance.

Radiant, joyous record.

There’s enough for fans to enjoy across ‘Lifeforms’, but it is not as lofty as it perhaps thinks itself to be.

He may know damn well how to deliver a banger, but also when to tone it back a bit too. Though it may not all hit hard and there are some sonic kinks that could’ve been ironed out, when it does hit, it’s impossible not to be swept up.

Tommy’s aware of her strengths, and she’s not afraid to brandish them: ‘goldilocks x’ is a little weird, a little dark, and it’s just right.

From the punishing storm that’s whipped up within the introduction of ‘Universal Chokehold’ through to the unflinching frenetics of ‘Set In Stone’, there’s a real sense of confidence that runs throughout the record’s 11 tracks. This is a band at the top of their game.

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.

Alexis Taylor’s discovery and consequent understanding of the importance of religion and its expansive scriptures are well captured in this reflective release.

Against Justin’s increasingly interesting way with words, it feels like the purest Vaccines album yet.

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

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

Her detached, precise narration leaves little to hold onto, and over 15 tracks, you begin to long for a little more emotion. Still, these productions are dark, atmospheric - she knows exactly how to conjure up a mood. It’s just that it’s slightly too forbidding to ever fully feel at home.

At its heaviest, ‘TEXIS’ is blistering, ‘Justine Go Genesis’ as mind-bendingly intense as it gets, with closer ‘Hummingbird Bomb’ and single ‘Locust Laced’ not far behind. And when synths do take centre stage, no impact is lost: ‘True Seekers’ and ‘I’m Not Down’ are akin to a more in-your-face Chvrches, Alexis’ vocal sitting juxtaposed with expansive electronics. It’s the best of both worlds.

‘A Beautiful Revolution Pt. 2’ is a sweet paean to music’s mood-boosting properties, as well as it capacity to effect meaningful change.

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.

There’s a sense of the trio reaching for a comfort blanket, turning back towards the intellectual pop that inspired them as youngsters in the ‘80s.

‘star-crossed’ mirrors the pain of a breakup, from turbulence through heartbreak to hope and self-acceptance. It’s here where she fully embraces Nashville storytelling. Far from spinning distant, third-person tales, each track feels incredibly personal.

If ‘GREY Area’ saw Simz come-of-age as a rapper, ‘Sometimes I Might Be Introvert’ is Simz making her first long-lasting artistic stamp on the zeitgeist.

It's in the middle where the album begins to sag, thanks to some monotonous backings and noticeably weaker hooks ('Remote Control'/'Tell the Vision') which lead the runtime to become alarmingly apparent, before strong features on 'Keep My Spirit Alive', 'Moon' and 'Pure Souls' further begin to force Kanye awkwardly into the background on his own album. He positions himself closer to the spotlight towards the final third.

In a world where musicians can feel pressured to release albums year after year, Maisie took her time with this one, resulting in an album that could well be timeless.

The record is not quite so relentless that it needs a pause, and at points feels as if it should move up a pace, decibel or pitch instead of the opposite way.

An invigorating, thrashing effort - which is ultimately also a lot of fun - ‘Glow On’ shows off just how innovative hardcore could become.

It’s simultaneously euphoric and angsty.

‘Screen Violence’ marries visceral anger and empowerment. The result is their most euphoric rallying cry to date.

As is always the case with albums of this nature that brim top-to-toe with guests, it’s sometimes hard to locate the thread that runs through it all. Nevertheless, there’s a terrific bounty to be enjoyed in the centre of the Vernon-Dessner Venn diagram.

It’s only when he tries to amp it up that ‘Chew The Scenery’ falters; ‘Stuck’ might possess a standard freshers indie chorus, but when it aims for Oasis-level swagger, it meets closer to the Gallaghers’ recent solo endeavours than bucket-hatted air-punches. Similarly the euphoria of ‘Yeah!’ misses the mark. Still, there are more than a handful of stellar moments.

For the most part, the record is a heady trip that prances around greatness but settles for pretty good.

There are nods to The Velvet Underground’s knack for dreamy simplicity (‘Blind’), and times when Viscius peeks into Vivian Girls-adjacent, more garage territory (‘Take That Back’). For the most part, however, ‘Everything’ operates from within the particular fog of grief: fragile, tactile, tender. It’s a frequently gorgeous thing.

‘Into The Blue’ largely finds itself coasting on one level. The standouts are the songs that break out of the formula.

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.

It has the potential to be an outstanding listen, and it would have been if ‘Other Language’ and ‘In Blur’ had a slightly stronger sense of direction, but Deafheaven has still crafted a record to get lost in. The metal purists crying sellout will sorely be missing out.

‘Deep States’ provides, perhaps unsurprisingly, a difficult listen at times, weighed down as it is by its overwhelming lyrical bluster. Penultimate track ‘Legal Ghosts’ is however an unexpected moment of melodic tenderness - this elusive tale of loss revealing a soft underbelly beneath this otherwise bristly, tough-skinned offering.

Here, the sonic experimentation finds his production and arrangements reaching the same imaginative heights. A thrilling and unpredictable addition to Villagers’ gleaming canon.

Orla Gartland’s debut is an intricate, carefully-constructed collection, blending together indie-pop, folk and alternative rock. She masterfully layers sounds so not even a hand-clap feels out of place and even empty space is used well.

And while, perhaps, this more reflective musing on American life wasn’t quite what we’d come to expect from The Killers, ‘Pressure Machine’ does prove that not all escapism arrives with a hook-laden chorus. This is an album which invites you to dig a little deeper.

This is by no means a ripping up of the rule book for Jade, but from this side-step where she’s going next could be anyone’s guess.

Ihe duo’s latest project is a barrage of positivity with a collection of upbeat anthems perfect for a sun-soaked summer of love.

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

A collection of the best of what has come before, ‘Draw Down The Moon’ finds coherence in its unashamed madness. It’s pulled together by Connor Murphy’s unique vocal performance, and the welcome dominance of drummer Jon Hellwig.

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

The music never explodes into complete madness, but rather bubbles along slowly, suggesting that the violence is mere moments away. ... Horror fans take note. This is how you create terror.

‘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.

Throughout, ‘American Noir’ delivers a vibrant and fitting homage to the recently departed Jim Steinman; the eight tracks harking to his musical opus.

With ‘Thirstier’, Torres has delivered her most varied set of songs yet; trying on so many different costumes suits her.

While ‘Take The Sadness…’ may not be a bolshy, career-defining move, it is a shimmering, reflective gem, hoping to offer a little relief from the darkness.

Indulgent by design but illuminated with imagination, it takes a few listens for the LP’s diamonds to truly shine, but when they do, they really shine bright.

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.

While ‘Yellow’ mixes it up nicely with freak-outs, group chants, P-funk and mellowing R&B, it is lyrically where the album wearies.

While more of a slow burn than his previous efforts, ‘Gold-Diggers Sound’ sees Leon Bridges shine brighter as a songwriter, as an artist and as a man than ever.

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

‘Hotel Surrender’ must surely be one of the most cathartic records of the year. From the laid-back cool of opener ‘Oh Me Oh My’, it seems the Faker brand of chill beats is back. The self-production adds to the organic nature of the record, and is often quite bold, with strings and saxophones aplenty.

Soothing to the extreme, but still with enough variation not to lose attention, he’s on to a winner.

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

Wavves have created their most varied collection so far.

By taking the time to delve back into his rap upbringing, he’s progressed further, gleefully throwing a ton of ideas at the wall and finding that nearly all of them stick.

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.

‘It Won’t Always Be Like This’ is inexplicably reanimating the era’s penchant for plodding, drive-time indie-rock.

A sense of an increasingly assured outfit emerges, shifting tempo with offbeat irregularity, their earlier inclination towards indie-leaning jangle-pop falling by the wayside, substituted with a definition that sets the band on an ever more consistent path.

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.

While its inconsistencies might betray the circumstances of its creation, it’s comforting to know that The Go! Team’s defiant experimentalism remains undiminished.

On ‘Utopian Ashes’, Bobby Gillespie and Jehnny Beth breathe new life into an old formula, and surface triumphant.

Punchy, fun and beautifully constructed, ‘Pink Noise’ is the triumphant sound of Laura Mvula finding her feet. A career-defining return that most artists can only dream of; pure synth-pop ecstasy.

‘Contender’ is a marked step forwards from one of Britain’s more endearingly idiosyncratic indie rock outfits.

Throughout the record, Doja has the method for seeing soaring stats down: Instagram caption ready lyrical quips, a flurry of famous pals (The Weeknd and JID also appear), and an effortless kaleidoscopic pop soundtrack backing it all up.

On the whole, the impact of their whip-smart offerings is striking, throughout the album’s staggering seventeen tracks, it does become easy to get a little lost.

Endearing and relatable without ever lapsing into total fondue, Faye Webster knows exactly how to roll with life’s punches, how to find the humour in a vulnerable moment. She knows she’s funny, but we think she’s pretty smart.