Chappell Roan’s debut is thoughtful, a little unhinged and entirely contradictory, merging the alt-pop seriousness of Lana Del Rey with the untethered preppy charm of Lorde to go full throttle into messy, emotional fun.

This posthumous self-titled release feels more commemorative than conclusive. It’s a welcome celebration; an answerphone message revisited. It’s no ‘OIL…’, but it’s pure SOPHIE.

It doesn’t rest on what has come before, landing somewhere between the ‘80s new wave of their debut and mainstream pop, now with the self-expression of a far more confident songwriter.

The album’s title suggests consistency, but in fact, it is a thrillingly unpredictable musical journey.

On ‘Transparent Things’, she finds the balance between spectacle and subtlety.

‘Someday, Now’ is a departure but a truly successful one, full of sublime vocals and creative confidence.

In isolation, there’s a lot to enjoy among these tracks, but together, ‘Like All Before You’ requires a lot of listens and maybe a couple of aspirin to translate.

Like stepping into a universe of the duo’s making, almost, it’s the kind of sonic escapism that’s akin to reading a good book.

‘Life’ provides a pure pop moment of the most joyous kind. Enlisting the Swedish icon to soundtrack a moment of dancefloor euphoria is in itself a masterstroke, but the track’s looped hook possesses the kind of earwormy immediacy that brings to mind Y2K staples ‘Lady (Hear Me Tonight)’ from French duo Modjo and Spiller’s Sophie Ellis-Bextor featuring ‘Groovejet (If This Ain’t Love)’.

An often whimsical, occasionally scattershot yet wryly self-aware collection of songs which run a musical gamut from Lana Del Rey’s Old Hollywood-channelling balladry to grunge pop – or more succinctly, much like a late noughties Tumblr given the same name.

An album that is brimming with curiosity and exploration – an album on which, from the off, Nilüfer strives to make an excavation of the core of who she is. More expansive and undiluted than its predecessors, she seems to find room to explore both sonically and lyrically.

‘WOOF.’ is brilliant, dark, and downright batshit crazy.

It’s in the less expected that ‘Lagos Paris London’ offers most; the sheer softness of ‘Under The Strikes’ displays a vocal turn that in other contexts may prove completely unrecognisable; and in particular the introspective, sparse yet groove-laden ‘Night Green, Heavy Love’, on which a staccato bassline contrasts with Yannis’ high-pitched vocal to create a wholly disorienting mood.

Another compelling chapter in Enumclaw’s story so far.

Even on ‘Short n’ Sweet’’s less standout moments, Sabrina is still the spicy kick at its centre, ready to deliver a cheeky wink at every turn.

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

His debut also conjures the rabble rousing of early Blur through a Peaches-meets-xcx lens. As a whole, ‘What’s Wrong With New York?’ is a beaming and brilliant moment for both The Dare and its inspired take on historical noughties pop.

They have made bold strides on ‘VIVA HINDS’, enlisting A-list guest stars and following the lead of their last record by venturing into fresh territory: ‘Mala Vista’ pairs Spanish-language vocals with a groove-driven guitar, while there’s a touch of dream-pop to spacey closer ‘Bon Voyage’.

‘Midas’ has the excitement and energy of a debut album, but the wisdom and restraint that comes from experience, making it a touchstone for what a great band can achieve.

Though as a whole it might not be as indelible as its predecessors, Malice K is certainly an artist to keep your eye on.

An album that does absolute justice to her status as a new, genre-defying voice in rock. From the drum and bass drive of ‘Sex Metal’, through to the more bubblegum pop of ‘Sugar Rush’, via the reflective epic of ‘Over It’, these fourteen tracks swerve through different iterations of the genre with confidence and ease.

That Fontaines DC are accomplished, assured songwriters and musicians is well-established by now, but it’s such a joy to hear they are also (whisper it) quite fun.

‘Forever’ balances the frivolity of youth with its turbulent realities, all through the sun-kissed lens of the past and the band’s almighty guitar pop sound.

86TVs are clearly cut from the same cloth as The Maccabees, but a newfound succinctness and dynamism make for a forward-facing project.

Perhaps not the album that will secure the band’s legacy, but one that reminds their cult following that the boys can play hard as well as work hard.

That Lava La Rue has managed to tame such huge ambition into a long-in-the-making debut that’s inventive but accessible and never outstays its welcome is a feat not to be diminished.

[‘Everything and Nothing’] feels like the perfect, emotive closer for a band who’ve come a long way to get here, but have made easily their best album yet by simply being themselves.

Ultimately, ‘I Love You So F***ing Much’ is as confident, self-aware and ambitious as a record by a band who’d rocketed skyward last time around should be.