An album, according to Dev, about “black depression, black existence and the ongoing anxieties of queer / people of colour”, Negro Swan is a record that radiates these tensions; subtle and amorphous, it’s not the most immediate listen, but it’s undoubtedly one with real weight.

‘Mortal Primetime’ doesn’t hold your hand or ease you into its sonic shifts. Instead, Sunflower Bean embrace this constant reinvention head-on with a record that only years of experience and an unshakable bond could produce.

‘Don’t Forget Me’ is the sound of an artist finally beginning to sink cosily into her own skin, and enjoying herself enormously in the process.

Tape Two sees them moving further away from a classic De La Soul template into something deeper and darker.

Power and self-confidence run through the record. ... It also manages to veer away from feeling gimmicky, Lizzo’s vibrant personality and humour shining through a set of tracks that switches through elements of funk, pop and R&B with ease.

The apology, regret and period of reconnection is brief and pained, and what follows soars. Less irregular than before, Justin’s redemption is soulful, almost spiritual in its delivery. .... It’s a huge leap forward from the introverted brooding of ‘For Emma…’, and a showcase of a man not just 20 years older, but wiser.

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.

Ultimately ‘MAYHEM’ blurs the line between the two [Lady Gaga and Stefani Germanotta], in its sheer pop-filled joy offering the fresh conclusion that they are by all accounts the very same; perfectly unsubtle and all-out fun.

It’s the sound of meeting someone for the first time, pulses racing, love rising up --that’s not best expressed in pure formula. Caribou has successfully managed to see past sense, instead opting with an instinct that tends to produce dazzling results.

It might not hit with the sit-up-and-listen immediacy of previous albums, but make no mistake, Currents is just as accomplished.

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.

As on her previous albums, what makes Eleanor’s songwriting feel magical are the stories she tells and the tiny details she drops in.

From start to finish, Julia has created a world entirely of her own - one which revels in representing her with unflinching honesty using a delicately-woven soundscape. Hers is a world where solace and solidarity are steeped into every brick.

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

On the likes of ‘Enough,’ the layers of electronica and muffled beats become oddly oppressive, competing against her--and winning the battle. It’s in moments like this where Take Me Apart proves to be frustrating. When it’s at its best though, it’s an album that invites the listener to do just what its title invites.

Gone is some of the clinical coldness of their early work; instead, there’s a warm, embracing quality to their fully formed, imaginary universe where vulnerability and hope collide.

‘songs’ feels like unearthing an old puzzle a piece at a time. ‘instrumentals’, while texturally the same, focuses on pure ambience – the unspecific title is far more deserving. If anything, this feels more like a companion piece, a window into that cabin rather than its own separate record. If you wish you had been there, this is the best way to feel like you were.

‘Suddenly’ is a treat and continues Caribou's knack of releasing albums that are both accessible and explorative.

More than three decades on from the day the pair first met in an electronics shop on the King's Road the Pet Shop Boys still manage to pack more ideas in an album than many others do in a thirty year career.

It’s when they come together on closer ‘Ketchum, ID’, an ode to the state of Idaho and the detachment of constant touring, that boygenius really comes into its own and sees the project become more than the sum of its parts.

Full of heart and full of ideas, it’s big, clever and brilliantly odd.

Returns to the Max Martin collaborative bangers that first turned the world onto Robyn. That pop brilliance runs through ‘Dopamine’, the driving beat of ‘Talk To Me’, and the rousing chorus of ‘Into The Sun’.

‘Double Infinity’ is a gloriously satisfying record on which it feels like everything is in its right place; an album that on some songs features up to twelve players, but feels consistently intimate and laid-back.

With its high concepts and bold instrumentals the album feels a little heavy at times, but you really can’t fault its ambition.

It’s an honest and visceral look into more painful moments that come with processing past pain.

A witty, succinct debut album.

‘CrazyMad, For Me’ is a triumphant whirlwind of pain and self-preservation, which reveals more of itself with every listen.

It’s simultaneously euphoric and angsty.