To call untitled unmastered a follow-up would be unfair, but what it reveals is that rap’s most innovative has a lot more left in his locker.

An ambitious project, King Gizzard succeed into enticing you into fully absorbing yourself into their wild, bizarre universe.

Slowness doesn’t surrender its wonders easily. But when it does, and there’s no guarantee it will for everyone on every listen, it can be perfect.

hat this soundtrack does most though is demonstrate the versatility of the duo, proving there is far more to Summer Camp than just sunshine and lollipops.

A real insight into Nicky Palermo’s mind, ‘A Short History of Decay’ is one of Nothing’s most inward-looking releases to date.

If you’re new to Trail of Dead, this might be a good place to begin your investigations, and if you’ve lost track of them since their critical and commercial peak, then ‘Sound Of The Silk’ and IX as a whole is as good a way as you’ll find to rediscover this consistently fantastic band.

Raw and uncompromising, yet always harbouring a degree of melody, it’s the product of ten years of learning, and succeeds in deftly balancing subtle nuance with a sense of uncompromising aggression.

If there’s evidence of musical progression, meanwhile, it comes via an apparently new-found fixation Neil has with modular synths; he deploys them tastefully here, perhaps to most striking effect on ‘Chained to a Cloud’. In general, though, ‘everything is alive’ very much gives off the sense that the slower gestations lead to the richest rewards.

Dave Longstreth conjures up something resembling a clear picture from all the record’s wildly disparate elements, and ‘Dirty Projectors’ serves to unify his most experimental moments with the door-opening impact of ‘Bitte Orca’.

A stirring and immediate listen, as Charli takes us with her on her lockdown emotional rollercoaster in real time.

While it’s not always the easiest of listens, the raw emotional honesty and potency of her arrangements makes it truly a pleasure to have Leslie Feist back.

As something cooked up on short notice, it’s a glorious postcard from an unprecedented global moment, and a wonderful teaser for what is to come.

Colors is Beck at his most exuberant, concocting weird, wonderful dancefloor fillers like a mad disco scientist. Good things come to those who wait.

This album feels purposely written to soundtrack their future barbecues, like they’re just playing what they’d want to dance to. That kind of pure, genuine enthusiasm is always infectious, and ‘Marble Skies’ feels like a joy ride.

With lyrics that simmer with self-awareness serving as the record’s backbone, the obvious points of comparison are Parquet Courts and Car Seat Headrest, but the idiosyncrasies that really make ‘Collector’ tick feel as if they’re all Disq’s own, from the subtle subversions of pop and rock tropes to the wry-beyond-their-years witticisms at every turn.

A post-break-up sexual revolution decorated with metaphor and sonic experimentation, that’s both dizzyingly unique and creatively assertive, this is a comeback that demands accolade.

This is a record replete with droning psychedelia, an infectious energy and a sinister, carnivalesque feel.

Citizen haven’t mellowed per se, the emotion on ‘As You Please’ is as grand and raw as ever, but they have refined their delivery, and their latest album manages not to shortchange that underlying sentiment while expanding their sonic palette.

Love or loathe their destructive attitude towards convention, Coming Apart is an exciting, if extremely strange album.

Whether figuratively (say, the disjointed delivery and post-punk rhythms of The Slits and the fearlessness of Kathleen Hanna) or literally (that Spice Girls riff in ‘F.U.U’), Dream Wife have taken all they’ve absorbed from decades of iconic women and created, well, a dream of a record.

It’s difficult to imagine the results being this good if Cross had limited studio time, or if she tried to record vocal takes with strangers listening in.

[Singer Colin Meloy's] ability to write hooks is still as strong as ever, and the narrative prowess he has always made absolute use of is ever stirring.

They're a throwback to the eighties heyday of playing around with the familiar shapes and sounds of songs whilst still being, well, listenable and accessible.

From the hyperactive ‘Momentz’, which sees De La Soul returning to the fold once more, to the creepy, intense Grace Jones-featuring ‘Charger’, Humanz is by far the weirdest Gorillaz album ever released, and a struggle to get through in one sitting. There’s a certain cohesion here though, largely focused around dissatisfaction and rallying together.

On the surface Of Monsters And Men’s second album is a lush master-class in pop sensibilities and folk storytelling but Beneath The Skin is more than a name. Scratch below that glittering surface and you’ll discover a band that has discovered themselves.

The music itself is bolder, yes, but still operating on the same cloudy register, stamping above experimentation into the domain of an artist who is more determined than ever.

For now, it’s hard to know whether ‘…Pt. 1’ is indicative of the overall direction of ‘Fever Dreams’, or merely one facet of it. Either way, it’s the polished sound of Johnny Marr putting his best foot forward.

Aluna and George balance each other in the perfect see-saw, and Body Music is an absolute playground of pop music.