Many albums will undoubtedly be written about the fractured world in which we live right now, but few are likely to be quite as slick and potent as this one.

A record of reflection and connection, it’s one that, at its best, ranks among the more beautiful-sounding you might hear this year

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

The curiously evocative and often soaring vocal of original ‘modern woman’, Sophie Harris, there may be a slight hint of knowingly tapping into the full breadth of their creative gamut across the record, but in delivery it suggests more a case of never wanting to tie themselves – or the album as a whole – down.

Whatever your view on their schtick, the songs will win you over in the end.

‘Peaches!’ feels like a welcome return home for The Black Keys, a recapturing of sorts of their early energy.

Just like a big night out, or indeed its afters, the record is dizzying but flies by too fast and leaves you wanting just a tiny bit more to savour.

An album that’s unlikely to make too much of a dent on the band’s epic career this far, ‘Your Favourite Toy’ is a lot of fun all the same.

Hyperactive electro-punk that effortlessly marries visceral fun with often experimental chaos, ‘Theft World’ sees its creators take some audacious swings and land an endless barrage of colourful, unique and exhilarating blows.

The result is a beautiful album that offers out tantalising strands, begging to be put together. It may be an impossible task, but it’s one to revel in nonetheless.

The Los Angeles natives are more cautious in their ecstasy, in equal parts as celebratory, uplifting and outright horny as they are aware and angry, yet as affirmed on the brilliantly rousing ‘So What’, there’s more than enough love to go around.

The lushest, most fleshed-out Cola record so far.

Four albums in, imperfect as it is, American Football can still build atmospheres like few others.

For the most part, ‘The World Is Not Good Enough’ is, yes, as wholly pleasant as its colourful, cute-adjacent cover would suggest.

This isn’t them superficially cashing in on a new generation’s fascination with ‘indie sleaze’; it’s the sound of songwriting duo Emily Haines and Jimmy Shaw bridging the gap between who they were then and who they are now. Sonically, they do that by leaning into the fundamentals.

To deem ‘Forever Ends Someday’ a grower might be a little disingenuous, as if there’s nothing to grab onto on first listen. But be sure, once immersed in its many hooks, they’ll be difficult to shake off.

It’s a record that leaves the kind of impression more associated with acts with far lengthier histories; second records are usually places where acts attempt to showcase their breadth, to be seen to expand on or rebel against their past selves, not double-down with quite this much confidence and depth.

Jessie continues her journey to becoming a modern, soul-pop legend with a set of songs so palpably feel-good that it’s impossible not to start shoulder-shimmying at any given moment.

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

There is no reinvention of the wheel here from Tigers Jaw, but when they do heart-on-sleeve emo this convincingly, that doesn’t matter.

A resplendent wonder that’s also a showcase of excellent songwriting.

Crucially, this project feels born from a pure place of fandom and community; much greater than the sum of its parts, it’s a meeting of minds that definitely feels worth the wait.

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.

Taking learnings from her heavyweight counterparts, ‘To Love Somebody’ and ‘White Noise’ pair her bittersweet melodies with driving pop, while the beautiful ‘Blue Dream’ pulls the likes of Gracie Abrams or Taylor further into their vulnerability.

It’s an album that feels lived in, drawing listeners into its world while leaving room for their own experiences to settle between the lines. In the tension between euphoria and comedown, connection and isolation, Arlo Parks delivers her most vividly realised and affecting body of work to date.

A swift album that’ll prove difficult to grow tired of.

‘Creature of Habit’ has some great moments, but they’re moments which suggest yet-still-untapped potential.

While the inspirations are obvious, ‘Ricochet’ isn’t simply a cobbled together pastiche; those inspirations are greater than the sum of their parts, and often complemented by big string arrangements for a lush and expansive soundscape.