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

Despite clocking in at just under 52 minutes, never does ‘BUTU’ feel anything but relentlessly frenetic fun. From its breakneck bonkers energy, to the more slowed-down moments, this is absolutely one for the ravers.

There are a couple of misses, particularly ‘G.O.A.T’’s obvious attempt at a sports montage soundtrack, but largely ‘Happenings’ is full of genuinely interesting choices. Free to indulge all the multitudes of his tastes, Pizzorno is managing, against many odds, to keep Kasabian moving forward.

It begs to be listened to again and again, and to soundtrack warm nights spent ruminating or engaged in the kind of conversations that can only come late in the night. The intricacies of ‘Charm’ demand to be intimately known.

Towa shows a lot of promise on ‘American Hero’, but this is a record which doesn’t quite know how best to use her strengths.

The quartet may have bucked expectations here, but in venturing into the shadows, they’ve made their boldest move yet.

Debut album ‘WeirdOs’ cements the pair as one of the UK’s most intriguing newcomers. The record is pretty succinct at under 40 minutes, but the twists and turns it takes give it staying power.

The album will chew you up, spit you out, and disorient you, and once you’re back out, withdrawals from the pandemonium will make you want to do it all over again.

Clocking in at 14 tracks, the Perth outfit here manage to blend evolution within their artistry, while still keeping in touch with their otherworldly roots.

‘9 Sad Symphonies’ is an album of time-travelling ‘Merry Happy’-ish fables, where Kate paints the British woman in an Americanised world, making romantic strife a cinematic epic, effortlessly capturing and healing the hyperbole of her heart, a needed return from Britain’s most emotionally deft and comedically deadpan pop artist.

A technicolour triumph that’s his most ambitious, maximalist, and forward-facing work yet, ‘Radiosoul’ shows Alfie Templeman to be not just ‘good for his age’, but an assured, fully-formed artist capable of holding his own beside some of the industry’s best.

‘The Gloss’ might not hold a candle to the Television-esque majesty of ‘Sun Coming Down’ - an era firmly in their rearview mirror - but it shows that, together, Darcy’s wit, Stidworthy’s precision, and Cartwright’s skeletal rhythms create something special. It’s not quite a reinvention, but they’re still seeking new horizons.

The album’s strong-enough opening does little to distract from the toil of the tail end. The end result is an album that feels far longer than its sub-40 minute runtime.

‘Fine Art’ should be viewed much like any great work: as a whole. And as a whole, it’s totally unique, totally committed and totally thrilling – just don’t tell the government.

‘The Art Of The Lie’ won’t act as an accessible gateway into John Grant’s catalogue, but for those already sold, it’s a deeper excavation into the mind of the man.

Monolithic in nature, the world-building on ‘What Happened to the Heart?’ makes a bleeding heart – both for self and the earth – appear rapturous and unfathomably healing.

‘Eels Time!’ is arguably a touch one-track, and more casual fans may pine for the sonic diversity of ‘Souljacker’. Those who love E at his most contemplative, though, will find plenty to like.

The trifecta of tracks which deal with drummer Roo’s experiences of addiction - ‘words fell out’, ‘tcnc’, and ‘take it away’ - are each stunningly potent in markedly different ways, ultimately highlighting the significance of resilience and mutual support as a means of refashioning ourselves in a new, better image.

Throughout ‘I Hear You’, there’s a clear intention to create something beyond what Peggy Gou is typically renowned for, yet it doesn’t always quite hit.

If there was a sense that Natasha had perhaps lost her way slightly on the conceptual likes of ‘The Bride’ and ‘Lost Girls’, she finds her feet again magnificently here, with simplicity key; the lyrics, the melodies, the gorgeous intertwining of piano and synth.

If ‘BRAT’ will ultimately push Charli XCX into mainstream pop’s top tier still remains to be seen, but it absolutely guarantees the best night out of your life.

Kai James’ overt framing of the album acts as a sort of meta literary device, immediately establishing its character and concept (namely, himself and his own mental ill-health) with the narrative nous of fellow Aussie Courtney Barnett. Indeed, over the course of the next ten tracks, it’s as if you’ve been transposed directly into James’ frontal cortex.

The Brooklyn four-piece have produced something truly special. This is a real statement of a record, one that sees them forge ever further skyward in their pursuit of monolithic shoegaze (‘Brown Paper Bag’, ‘Somber the Drums’) while also exploring softer territory on tracks so thick with atmosphere that their queasy melodies gnaw at the marrow of your bones.

In making louder and trendier her monolithic artistry, ‘HIT ME HARD AND SOFT’ sees her hitting somehow even higher highs. It’s her best yet, and an affecting sign of the times.

Zayn’s fourth is admirable in its emotional mining, is rich in execution and soul, and indeed his brain-scratching melodic riffs will have die-hard fans blushing - but even on this, what we’re told is his ‘most vulnerable’ release, the treading of the long-trodden, stripped-back, ex-boyband desire path leaves the record wanting for just a little more Zayn sparkle.

While none of the tracks outstay their welcome, there’s a paradoxical problem in that the constant catalogue of textures begins to feel retrodden.

A strong and audacious debut.

With such a consistently adept and fresh discography, it’s impossible to call this album St Vincent’s best, yet it’s quite easily her fullest, building on everything she’s already achieved while also treading new ground. If she is to be known by one record, let it be ‘All Born Screaming’.