‘Hideous Bastard’ sees Oliver take on both these past and present realities with a candour that surprises even him.

Its wares pick up where its predecessor left off but without adding too much extra to the mix.

The last third of the record is more streamlined, with the sweeping, subtly metallic ‘Kill Or Be Killed’ offering a welcome throwback to the days when Muse were at their best, but it’s not enough to redeem this all-too-OTT offering.

It’s not a bad record, but it’s not quite there.

From start to finish, Julia has created a world entirely of her own - one which revels in representing her with unflinching honesty using a delicately-woven soundscape. Hers is a world where solace and solidarity are steeped into every brick.

It’s all fun without feeling frivolous, packing relatable substance into its genuinely jovial sound.

Spoken word moments peppered throughout hark back to the ‘80s on an album that pushes musical boundaries well past the present day. In sound, it’s as bold as the personality that runs through it.

Given that the various members of Hot Chip have various side-hustles and secondary creative outlets, it’s a little surprising how much of ‘Freakout / Release’ sounds quite this forced.

Their particular brand of punk never pauses for breath: it’s thirteen unabating tracks, fired up on adrenaline and the thrill of just not giving a shit.

An album that covers this much ground could quickly feel disjointed, yet through painting with broad brush strokes, Mall Grab has cohesively summarised what it is that makes him tick.

The few hints towards more modern fare - the undulating yet ultimately forgettable ‘Whirlpool’, closer ‘Everything’s Been Leading To This’ with its ‘80s keys and distinctly ‘00s indie air - could’ve been left on the cutting room floor, but overall ‘Reset’ is as warm a listen as Sonic Boom’s near-forgotten records must’ve been in lockdown Lisbon.

Leaning more into the pop-rock sound of their previous record, ‘Unwanted’ shines in its ability to produce a pop-punk anthem your ‘00s faves wish they could’ve written. Throughout, Heather holds nothing back.

They’re not re-writing the rule book, but on ‘Chopper’ Kiwi Jr lift off towards becoming cult favourites.

It’s thrilling stuff but most importantly, with him [Sergio Pizzorno] solely steering the ship, it’s the most authentic this band have sounded in a long time - once again, it feels like they’re capable of going anywhere they want.

Danger Mouse and Black Thought’s long-awaited album arrives as a tribute to a whole scene rather than just two artists.

Unlike 2016’s iconic ‘Lemonade’, ‘Renaissance’ firmly embodies this world. No ballads or break up songs necessary, the album sits proudly at 16 tracks of pure energy. A masterclass in reinvention.

Lauv’s second record certainly provides an array of sweet pop highs, but still doesn’t quite show us who the writer behind it all really is.

Pulling together synth, strings and warped melodies, the love song [‘Winter Is Hopeful’] is tender yet distant, disarming yet comforting, discordant yet oddly harmonious - the way this album sounds.

‘Surrender’ proves Maggie can use motifs from the past to build worlds and stimulate memories while always looking forward.

The sound of an artist coming home to themselves, ‘The Theory Of Whatever’ is proof that you can grow up gracefully with every inch of your vibrancy still intact.

Lizzo has created something often softer and more intimate than anyone might have expected. Of course, as the disco strut of lead single ‘About Damn Time’ will attest, there are still cheeky bangers contained within.

Mixing disco, dance, pop and R&B elements, ‘About Last Night…’ whisks us through the highs and lows of the best night out of your life, and Mabel is the perfect party guide.

With ‘Fear Fear’, WMC already have a signature viewpoint all of their own - the fun is in seeing how they continue to play with it.

‘World Wide Pop’ is a joyously over-the-top explosion of audio technicolor, where the group embrace their oddities and eccentricities.

This is an album that asks for patience, and only on occasion is it duly rewarded.

Although less esoteric than its predecessor ‘Cavalcade’, ‘Hellfire’ is a fiercely experimental record that sees black midi teeter back and forth on a crumbling precipice, halfway between unhinged madness and art rock precision.

‘Beatopia’ shows growth without risking losing the charm that has made Bea a firm favourite.

It’s by far the happiest MUNA have sounded; a celebratory expression of queer love that loses none of the trio’s magic.