For the most part, though, what ‘Path of Wellness’ signifies is Sleater-Kinney pulling away from their past, towards an era likely to lean heavily not just on their pop sensibilities, but on the move beyond the old push-and-pull relationship between the now-duo - a songwriting bond once defined by their differences has given way to a seamless understanding.

Not everything about ‘BUMMER’ is fully perfected just yet, but there’s plenty to feel upbeat about.

Beautifully constructed, surprising and brimming with invention - looking back at all the incredible music Rostam’s been a part of over the years, it feels as if he’s saved a little for himself on ‘Changephobia’.

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

‘Jubilee’ finds its creator older and wiser with melody, lyrics and storytelling pulling focus in a fashion that cements Michelle Zauner as a true creative force to be reckoned with. From here on out, Japanese Breakfast can go anywhere and we’ll follow.

‘Soberish’ sounds more like her early work, with its lo-fi stylings and ramshackle guitars. Lyrically, this record teases her more sentimental side, but even then, she openly admits to not wanting to reveal her true self to the listener.

Documenting her journey with clarity and confidence, ‘Monthly Friend’ is an accomplished album that shows off Zoe Mead’s command.

‘Blue Weekend’ is an album that revels in its feelings. The dynamics are constantly shifting, often moving from tender sparsity to luxurious sonic opulence in the same song, but everything feels like the absolute peak of what it could be.

‘Life’s A Beach’’s lasting impact is its confrontation of depression and self-doubt: this is a record that will make you feel deeply as well as provide a soundtrack for your first post-lockdown festival.

The instrumentals are lo-fi but bear a charm, and find Kele offering up his best guitar work in years.

Whether down to Erika’s understated vocal, or the shallow pool from which many of the musical textures come, things do elsewhere get a little samey. A shame, as ‘Sensational’ starts so bright.

'Cavalcade' is the sound of a band looking to broaden their horizons, but building from a sound already so idiosyncratic and unpredictable, they end up in some head-scratching corners. It's still thrillingly entertaining nonetheless.

All in all, it is as engrossing as it is innocently delightful.

When it works, it really works.

Less wildly daring than its predecessors, yet remaining totally assured in its vision, ‘Seeking New Gods’ stands as another finely-crafted addition to Gruff Rhys’ illustrious repertoire.

‘Flora Fauna’ is the sound of a measured spreading of Billie Marten’s wings - of careful progress. She’s still really young: there’s more to come.

We’d never want CHAI to lose their pep, but there’s something pleasing about watching them grow into something new.

It’s a record of two halves; the former a collection of evocative vignettes, the latter a vehicle for her impressive vocal. And while the latter does have its moments - closer ‘Weekend’ is the kind of sprawling epic that brings to mind earlier Jessie Ware - it’s in the first half, shorn of any jazzy accompaniment, that ‘Be Right Back’ is truly interesting.

While the studio’s energy is palpable on record, ‘Delta Kream’ is likely to appeal mostly to Dan and Patrick’s fellow blues nerds over anyone else.

On all fronts, with ‘Daddy’s Home’, St Vincent has delivered spectacularly.

There are a couple of sweet spots on ‘Ice Melt’ in the form of the shimmering ‘Balloon’ and the creamy ending title-track, but not enough to warrant a whole album’s worth of material from what could have easily been shaved down to an EP.

The singer-songwriter’s most comprehensive release to date, turns up the production slickness while sacrificing none of his affable, boyish charm.

Despite its flaws ‘Blood Bunny’ does a great job to showcase what this bright young star has to offer.

Charming, tender and admirably vulnerable, ‘Build A Problem’ is a profoundly freeing reflection on the struggles of youth, growth and identity.

A rollercoaster ride of diverse influences, the album takes us everywhere from nods to the freewheeling indie rock of ‘90s Jesus and Mary Chain (‘Dear Saint Cecilia’) to glossy, sixties-inflected love letters (‘Drink Rain’), via handsome, string-backed introspection (‘Love Kills Slowly’) and, on the standout ‘High & Hurt’, there’s a thrilling rework at the midpoint of the classic hymn ‘Will the Circle Be Unbroken?’ that imbues it with moody menace.

Squid always seemed destined to have an epic album in them, and they’ve delivered just that.

We’re left with a contrast that never quite works. Instead, it’s where the concept is applied metaphorically that ‘Van Weezer’ finds some green shoots.

‘Life In Your Glass World’ never shies away from its obvious love for more mainstream-friendly rock, more often than not hitting the mark. The band thrive in their more overt indie moments but lose traction on the likes of the more pedestrian ‘Thin Air’ or the experimental electronics of ‘Fight Beat’.