Across the record, the winking lyrical smarts are in full flow.

‘CHAOS NOW*’ might not have much of ‘80s Mancunian misery in its toolbox, but there’s an exhilarating meeting of grunge, pop-punk and indie with hip hop rhythms: Beck if he’d used a palette of early ‘00s MTV2.

It’s an album which documents a fierce imagination at play; a truly invigorating piece of work that pushes her songwriting forward.

Every second of ‘Wicked City’ feels meticulously thought through, the huge breadth of sonic terrain the duo cover the result of real care and attention paid at every juncture.

Life is too short to waste time. ‘The Myth…’ expands from this vital message, allowing the record to emerge as Biffy Clyro’s most emotionally powerful in years.

Perfume Genius is worthy of the hype, and the hyperbole: this is a fantastic record.

A masterclass in grandiose ferocity, the album harks back to the urgency of their early days and collides with the expansive melodies that underpinned much of their more recent output. Although on the surface the most aligned to their turn-of-the-century sound, ‘Ohms’ is filled with the twisted flourishes and unexpected juxtapositions that have guided the band’s lengthy career.

A gorgeous debut.

This is thoughtful, nuanced R&B that demonstrates Jorja’s kaleidoscopic feel for her genre, incorporating everything from neo-soul on the brooding title track, to flirting with dancehall on ‘Feelings’.

At a time when country-tinged indie rock is by no means in short supply in America - Wednesday, Waxahatchee and MJ Lenderman all spring to mind - Ratboys have earned their seat at the top table.

Haunting, heartbreaking and life-affirming, Angel Olsen’s songwriting talents soar to great heights in the mostly restrained palette here, offering the much needed space to wrestle with the complexities life has thrown at her.

The hard-fought glimmers of hope in the pain (“I guess I’ll stay,” he concludes, breaking into tears) prove the very point of the record, in its openness as brutally difficult as it is cathartic.

Where her debut ‘Not Your Muse’ saw her solidify her status as a truly modern voice within jazz and soul, ‘Woman Of Faces’ transports her to somewhere entirely otherworldly.

Call it chill wave, call it dream pop, call her a bedroom producer - this album’s full of enough variety and adventure to make such generalisations moot. A real triumph.

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

Synths bloom like the early morning rays of the sun, reaching out to a lover lost in the darkness. ‘Tu sais ce qu’il me faut’ celebrates seduction as he lusts over a beau; the way they walk, the way they dance, their body is celebrated in all its glory.

All-in-all, ‘Man Made’ is an impressively accomplished, ever-giving record that rarely fails to enchant.

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.

As intoxicating as its predecessor.

With the emotionally charged beats of ‘Black Mascara’, the candour of ‘Body Dysmorphia’ and the unfiltered soul of ‘Buss It Down’, it would be impossible for anyone to sleep on RAYE anymore.

‘Futique’ is a bold album that - much like its overarching concept of ‘future antique’ - filters through Biffy’s past, all with the aim of protecting their future.

‘Roadrunner…’ sees Brockhampton silencing any of those who feared they might have lost their spark. It’s a record that - if it is truly one of their last - sees the lads going out with a bang.

Biting and abrasive in the best kind of ways, ‘Nightmare Vacation’ finds an artist stepping up into the hype that’s been surrounding her for years, and delivering on it tenfold. It will chew you up and spit you out, and you’ll love every minute of it.

The jazz-imbued one-two of ‘Light As Grass’ and ‘Could You Help Me’ gives the record a rich introduction, while ‘Sail Away’ descends into a heady, dance-tinged mist; by the time the funky gratitude of ‘The Racket’ closes proceedings (“I won’t let you bring me down”), it’s hard not to be in awe of the scale of her growth and transformation in every sense of the word.

Their most mature and concise work to date.

Kendrick’s sixth studio LP is a masterstroke - exquisitely fuelled by his love of his home city of Compton and his rage at his storied adversary, Drake.

Random Access Memories is, for all the DJ-on-camera dancing hype, an album in the proper sense of the word; these aren't thirteen dancefloor ready bangers, it's a grandiose statement of intent.

Setting such a high bar on your debut can be a poisoned chalice but Dave weathers the storm with his astute penmanship, impeccable musical taste and cool, collected delivery.