It all feels remarkably familiar, but given the record’s pedigree, that’s far from a bad thing.

Twenty years on from their debut, ‘The Big Come Up’, it’s a statement of how far they’ve come, as well as an indicator of where they might be heading next.

[Pa Salieu] The Ghanaian-British rapper is one of a handful of guests here, each of whom allow Ibeyi to reflect the past and present simultaneously.

Ultimately an exercise in Sunflower Bean showing off that they can do just about everything well.

While the classic Warpaint tropes - clever, heady interplay; four voices weaving as one - are present and correct, this time the more icy edges are rounded off in favour of softness and a nurturing sense of femininity.

This is very much the most mature Sharon Van Etten offering to date - and perhaps the most musically accomplished, too.

‘A Bit of Previous’ remains an enjoyably sunny listen, even if one frequently inflected with melancholy.

While ‘Endless Rooms’ chronicles a darker period in RBCF’s time as a band, it’s an album that paves a sonically brighter and broader future ahead.

It’s clear that these songs have a real and sincere heart, designed to both stir and soothe the soul in one fell swoop.

‘How To Let Go’ is an album of two halves, where at times she seamlessly slides back into the laid-back persona of old.

He combines whispering brush patterns and flecks of industrial glitch in the cerebral ‘Foreplay’ yet writes the perfect neo-soul pop song in ‘The Loop’, exemplifying his cross-disciplinary skill, and ability to marry fluid performance with tonal nuance.

“Like two ribbons, still woven although we are fraying,” they admit. By accepting this, Let’s Eat Grandma have found the sonic balance between friendship, unity, and individual identity.

‘Heart Tax’ is much more expansive, and has her spreading her wings in a number of different stylistic directions whilst maintaining her trademark hypnotic rhythms as a through-line with which to tie everything together.

This follow-up is more inquisitive and self-exploratory, and just a touch darker - while still building on her signature nostalgic sound.

‘SongBook’ is a debut that suggests The Lazy Eyes have the guile to forge their own roads in a genre not currently experiencing a dearth of talent.

Bobby is a jack of all trades when it comes to surmising his subject matter while balancing the line of fact, fun, and fierce emotion. It makes for one of the year’s most essential records yet.

There’s just enough on ‘Everything…’ to ingratiate fans both new and old.

For those who missed the rabble-rousing of ‘Dogrel’ but liked the darkness of ‘A Hero’s Death’, this record splits the perfect difference, sealing it along the middle with the superglue of a band who now know exactly where they’re going. Truth be told, they’ve never been more at home.

While these tracks are testament to how well the LA trio can build an astronomical sense of atmosphere, they can create icy harshness with equal brilliance.

For an album winding in length, it doesn’t outstay its welcome; if the jump to a major means more lovingly fashioned breeziness like this, then so much the better.

‘Second Nature’ hits the mark when it comes to dancing, although taking the time to embrace those quieter moments can often be some of the best, too.

These songs will inevitably end up stuck in their heads. In short, it’s bloody lovely.

Omar Apollo inspires, and his competence as a vocalist is unmistakable on ‘Ivory’. Conflating his electro-pop tendencies with the occasional stride of a campfire guitar, he turns everything he touches to glistening radio gold.

It’s vulnerable, it’s heartfelt, and above all it feels real.

It finds him at his most confident, if not most innovative, and maybe his most comfortable.

‘Bronco’ flits between theatricality and poignancy, almost every song sounding like it could score a Western’s pivotal moment with ease. Helmed by the singer’s powerhouse vocals, it’s impossible not to be drawn in throughout the album’s 15 country-rock-song run.

‘Growing Up’ they easily cement themselves as far more than a viral moment, pairing political and social charge with a suitably playful charm. Opener ‘Oh!’ delivers a powerhouse homage to the band’s foremothers, highlighting ‘Growing Up’’s clever balance between frivolity, passion and skill.

Definitely an acquired taste for those who Grizzly Bear’s less immediate side already ticks multiple boxes, but for those it’s surely a win.