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.

For a project that could have held unreasonable expectations, it overdelivers time and time again. Both parts of the duo are on their A-game in equal parts.

Their most complete record by a serious stretch, it's a work that laughs, cries, detests, adores and above anything else inspires.

A journey of self-discovery, confidence abounding like limits simply don’t exist.

Clearly not ones to do things by halves, ‘Sex, Death & The Infinite Void’ may be an album that feels boldly unexpected for a rock band in 2020, and that makes it all the more remarkable: for Creeper, it’s their most astonishing and liberating move yet.

Across its 40-odd minutes, Joy As An Act of Resistance makes you want to laugh and cry and roar into the wind and cradle your nearest and dearest. It is a beautiful slice of humanity delivered by a group of men whose vulnerability and heart has become a guiding light in the fog for an increasing community of fans who don’t just want, but need this.

With resounding beauty, ‘Heterosexuality’ deconstructs social norms through a powerful freedom of self-expression, yet also acknowledges this pain and struggle.

‘Wild God’ aims for transcendence, and finds it.

It’s musical exorcism at its very best, rallying against socially-imposed doubt and anxiety and - in its unique horror - finding welcome moments of inner peace.

In equal parts an unequivocal call to arms and an excitable ode to a wonderful friendship, even in the company it keeps. RTJ3 shines.

Over four songs and just twelve minutes, it packs enough punch to inspire air guitar, desk drumming, shower singing and wanting to start a band just so you can try and shred like these three. Truly fantastic.

Everything Everything have sculpted a masterpiece.

‘Fancy That’ scratches just about every nostalgic itch her listeners might have, all while remaining on the pulse of what’s next.

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.

Steeped in blissful American nostalgia, Bleachers’ sublime self-titled fourth studio album embodies it all, from the rolling vistas to the warmth of distant city lights, at once watching the world pass by and deeply cemented in a moment. It’s rare for an album to capture a feeling so intensely, promoting a universal recognition through something so intrinsically linked to an individual’s time and place.

It’s huge, expansive, bonkers and brilliant. It’s RAYE at her very core, and it’s fantastic.

Never has an album title been better chosen - the duo are at the centre of a brightly burning, ever-expanding sonic explosion, all of their own making, and just like a supernova, it is utterly stunning to witness. Bow down to the queens.

‘Loud Without Noise’ is flawless. Wildly ambitious, it works to showcase perfectly why the Merseysiders have garnered such a fervent fanbase to date – and just how far they could go.

Much like the process of inner work, ‘TELL DEM IT’S SUNNY’ is gently transformative; it channels patience and expansion, ultimately speaking to the heart as a continuation of the unending path that Greentea has shown listeners thus far.

Breathtaking and heartbreaking in so many different ways, ‘West End Girl’ may have begun by telling the tale of one of her life’s most bitter chapters, but now it’s become one of her most triumphant.

‘Patterns In Repeat’ is both stunningly intimate and endearingly raw.

The picture it paints as a whole is a hugely rich one - not just of the album itself, but of English Teacher as the opposite of a flash-in-the-pan buzz band; as a group really only just getting started.

St. Vincent showcases Annie Clark as a fiercely accomplished musician, a relentlessly original artist, and now, an innovator of pop.

A rare album without a single Achilles heel, The Magic Gang have created a debut that’ll be remembered as a milestone moment in years to come.

After years of the slow build, the release is here. Believe the hype.

Sounding like their most ambitious and handsome release yet.

Cure-y closer ‘24 Hours’ underlines the fact that Heartworms are one to keep a trained eye on, its rumbling outro an omen not for an oncoming rapture so much as the arrival of a Seriously Fucking Cool new artist with vision and formidable talent to her name.

Hurrying urgently down the rushing veins of every song, colliding surreally poetic lyrics with thumping racket in a tense, on-edge mess, Untitled could well’ve put WALL on the same trajectory as their equally absurdist contemporaries Parquet Courts.