Everything Everything have sculpted a masterpiece.

Whilst Heems’ verses amble along with wry humour and charmingly lazy wordplay (“Inshallah, mashallah, hopefully no martial law”), Riz MC’s (actor Riz Ahmed) are typified by a razor-sharp flow, as fast as it is furious, and breathlessly references the refugee crisis, Aeneas from The Iliad, Trump and his film career in short order, before throwing down that he “run[s] the city like my name’s Sadiq”.

An understated kaleidoscope of beautiful arrangements, raw emotion and literate songwriting that is nothing less than moving.

‘Hideous Bastard’ sees Oliver take on both these past and present realities with a candour that surprises even him.

Self-aware but undaunted, every moment sees the band pushing at the walls, daring to take it bigger, promising to make it more open.

This is a record that stands up well against the high bar set by her debut in both scope and ambition.

Liverpool duo King Hannah fling themselves into sweltering dust-bowl deserts on startling debut ‘I’m Not Sorry, I Was Just Being Me’ - a narcotic, seductive adventure of squelchy Mazzy Star psych-blues, Portishead-ing trip hop and rainy-day folkishness.

Distinct, crooning and softly beautiful, ‘Running With The Hurricane’ captures a snapshot of intimacy, thriving friendships and a profound understanding of the human condition.

It’s a strange, industrial trip that’s full of experimentation. Kim’s signature vocal style - a kind of husky, gasping whisper - is as recognisable as ever, though. And like with the best moments of her career, here she is uncompromising in her artistic vision.

A lot of the time Warp & Weft is just very slow, and whilst there are a couple of earworms to be turned up here and there, it's mostly pretty stodgy.

They’re untouchable in one sense, but they don’t look to be building on more than solid foundations. Threading together moments of true beauty is a nagging sense that there’s so much of this parallel universe they’ve yet to explore.

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.

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

As a listen, it doesn’t always completely land, but when it does it’s truly exciting. As an artist, ‘Did You Know That There’s A Tunnel Under Ocean Blvd’ shows Lana Del Rey pushing herself perhaps more than ever.

The record is peppered with slower solo tracks, but it’s the crunchy, full band material that really points the way forward, adding another name to the growing list of songwriters that are giving indie-rock a new, more relatable voice.

As twelve equally matched moments of varied tone but consistent brilliance, it's nothing short of exactly what was expected--the start of something even bigger.

A record that feels both raw and refined, this will shake you to the core.

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

Her first record as Self Esteem allows her songwriting skills to flourish in all their flawed glory--at once assertive and vulnerable, her take on pop flirts with high-end glossy sonics but still holds roots in the slow-building atmospherics that fuelled her past work, as well as some leftfield R&B influences.

A record that perfectly shows her growth as an artist - and a collaborator - ‘Belong’ proves to be more than worth the wait.


Its refined edges, percussion heavy sounds and understated opulence find the band's sonic landscape revitalised.

A listen that encourages looking inwards and coming to the kind of realisations Welsh himself has poured into the album, a record it’s impossible not to be swept up by.

If kept short and sweet, Temple would have made a charmingly laconic record that blossomed in unconventionality, yet sadly here is muddled in his expansive means.

While All My DemonS is a listen that’s at times varied, interesting and progressive, any connections made here are purely at surface level.

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.

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.

‘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.

Overall, it’s a testament to the world-class songwriting of The Lemon Twigs that at no point does the record fall into the realms of ‘too much’. For most, it would be hard to strike that balance, but The Lemon Twigs absolutely master the art of crooning sugary pop-rock in the best of ways.