Fans who have joined the ride at some point in the past 20 years will no doubt be delighted with the dense, stomping chapter found in Orc, though newcomers might feel like they've wandered into a story very much in progress and may be more compelled by some of the band's earlier records.

Expanding upon its predecessor, The Complete Budokan 1978 is an immersive treasure trove that brings us into the storied space for two nights with Bob Dylan. He was a bit restless, heartbroken and perhaps even a little angry, and that got him searching for new muses and new sounds.

The narratives are better developed and there are invariably a couple of lines in each song that hit home emotionally.

What arose from those conjuring sessions is a smoky blend of well-tempered jazz, nearly-still new age, and exploratory adult contemporary vibes. The music is hushed, steady and patient. Synths flourish, horns intonate and a slippery bass swerves all over the place.

Even though it remains an abstract surprise album, Ain't No Damn Way! flows coherently, making for an impressively seamless addition to Kaytra's ever-expanding discography. Most importantly, the record's meaningful callbacks solidify that he has yet to lose sight of his creative North star.

If you dig Baldi's work, this is as fine a collection as any in the Cloud Nothings discography.

I'll Tell You What will keep listeners on their toes, as the album is both immersed in footwork but also pushes against its boundaries, frequently dropping the signature drum machines, working with droning synth, crossing vocal samples, and generally taking left turns just when you think you've got a hold on a track.

Despite his claims of musical malaise, Pink continues to display excellence in his eccentricities on Dedicated to Bobby Jameson, one of his most dynamic records to date.

The melodies can blur into one another and some tracks don't stand out, but Rock and Roll Night Club is so ephemeral and addictive that you'll want to be making love in this club regularly.

A distinct effort has been made to play up the sexiness of the project and, thankfully, the music lives up to that imagery.

Heterosexuality captivates and transports the listener, making an ethereal landscape out of dissonance and nihilism. It never repeats itself, it does not stutter, and it absolutely never apologizes.

One of the best Americana records of the year.

The record starts to lose a little momentum near the end, and some parts of the record float by without registering much of an impression, but the highlights usually make up for this. Sometimes she gets too laidback for her own good, but St. Louis has enough charm to make the record work.

This far into their career, you don't need a They Might Be Giants album to be classic — you just need it to be a reminder of how great they are, and have been since before you were born, probably.

Sure, the sequencing could have used some tweaking, but Days Are Gone is a commendable effort that manages to answer all of the hype.

No Blues is precisely the grimly euphoric lift-up it purports to be, validating Los Campesinos! on their own terms as connoisseurs of perversely thrilling, desperately mundane misery.

White Lung sound both heavier and more accessible on Paradise, once again proving that there's far more to this band than meets the eye.

Stormzy finds balance on This Is What I Mean and delivers a record with clear intentions and messaging. While it's unlikely to please the entirety of his audience, those who find this record in the pits of depression, lost spirituality, heartbreak or falling in and out of love will undoubtedly be moved.

It will always be a pleasure to hear Ritter's songs, to spend some time in his warm, rich universe. But he needs a new band, badly.

Ciani and Smith's exploitation of the Buchla's possibilities is exemplary, and worth looking into for fans of ambient or experimental music.

His third album Pure Luxury is busy yet balanced, drawing from a diverse and sensual set of influences.

Flood is much less didactic than its predecessor — it isn't Donnelly's job to teach us, but she still demands and warrants our attention.

For a project that centres on tragedy, though, Okovi feels remarkably vital. After five albums, Zola Jesus's balancing act remains compelling.

Everything goes by at such a breathless pace and without much variation that for individual listening, it gets a bit draining at times.

There Is No Love in Fluorescent Light is the sound of a band that know themselves. Stars speak to the truths we grapple with, and the internal nature of our emotional experiences. It's a gift to hear this realized.

Fans of his hip-hop and R&B work will certainly be challenged by the sparse and experimental nature of Xen, which makes it one of the most satisfying listens of the year..

While this record is steeped in mature rhythms, the hype tendencies that make the music ghetto are never sacrificed.

The subject matter isn't new, but the trio's knack for delivering humorous one-liners, tasteful adlibs and memorable hooks in impressively technical fashion remains a winning formula here.

Like that excellent mid-period of Entombed where they embraced raw production and an honest approach in every aspect of their music, Struck by Lightning have it all, minus any songs that worm their way into the listener's head.

Reconstructed is a comprehensive and well-curated collection that showcases the diversity and talent of this exceptional California turntablist and producer.

While there isn't much on display that will impress those with little desire for more of the same, genre buffs or fans of Counterparts' first two full-lengths will find the absence of filler and spirited momentum more than agreeable.

You will be hard-pressed to find a fresher-sounding dance LP this year.

Those beats prove to be a dynamic soundtrack for Esoteric and Deck's shameless, endlessly entertaining punch lines, which are bizarrely charming enough to leave you rooting for the bad guy.

The sense on this wondrous and haunting album is that he's a man and a songwriter that lives to command life and forge new ways forward, disproving the merits of convention by simply reflecting upon how falling in line is not for him and, damn it, it won't have to be for his family neither.

While it's not quite a classic like his seminal late '80s to early '90s run, Everythang's Corrupt is a return to form, especially after Cube's rudimentary 2000s releases like Laugh Now, Cry Later and I Am the West. It's heartening to hear an icon with nothing left to prove rap with the hunger of a youngster so far into his career.

Corpse Flower has a dynamic sound that is interesting for anyone. The record is another example of the masterful musicianship of Patton and showcases Vannier's capabilities in crafting perfectly balanced pieces of music.

Waxing Moon presents a kind of transition in Foon's career, possessing full helpings of the despair and hope that is baked into the DNA of her earlier work, but with a further articulation of those emotions, becoming a visible and dimly spotlighted person standing in front of the monolith.

Ultimately, while not pushing beyond well-worn genre expectations, Hollywood Park does present the Airborne Toxic Event at their most sincere and vulnerable.

This album reveals that Lanois is as gifted a collaborator and curator of talent as he is a creator of atmospheric productions for megastars. Let's hope the pandemic lockdowns lift soon, because Lanois and his bandmates deserve to delight audiences with their crackling chemistry and old-school gospel songcraft, all of which are vividly captured on Heavy Sun.

These recurring themes of loneliness and confused love can grow repetitive, deployed in similar ways from song to song, but Sola is still able to keep the imagery fleshed out and distinctive.

Not only is Steppington the first must-own rap record of 2014, but it represents freedom for its makers.

The remarkable feat of New Ways is the ability to both resonate with those who loved Twin Solitude, while also pushing tendrils out towards listeners in search of more versatility.

The segues on Death Jokes prove to be the highlights of McMahon's experimentation. "Joyrider," "Predator" and "Solo Tape" succeed because they are unencumbered by the weight of songwriting expectation. Unlike the fuller compositions, these interstitial tracks lean more on the side of musical vignettes.

An impassioned record that feels like their most raw, personal work to date.

Even if, at 72 minutes, it overstays its welcome a bit, there's no denying the vital talent on display at every turn.

Hella is an easy LP to get drawn into and (just like all of his other releases) it's also a joyous adventure to get lost in.

For a musician who has been leaning on the same style of ambient electronic for years, Colleen bravely reaches for something outside her ethereal comfort zone on Captain of None.

The Chilean producer has released collaborative records, scored films and released a series of incredible 12-inches, Nymphs I through IV. And yet, for all of the sonic breadth of that material, none of it quite prepares listeners for Sirens.

Preoccupations are steadying their footing here, both growing up and grounding themselves sonically.

A commendable summation of the casually cool take on house and downtempo hip-hop that has defined the work of these two producers to date.

If you're looking for a de facto greatest hits of library music, Unusual Sounds is here to provide just that.

Ma feels a bit like watching the sun slowly set: as it gently dips into the horizon, there are moments where the colours burst and excite, but mostly it's a careful and calm experience.

Breathe is Tiny Moving Parts' best work to date, and if math rock is your thing, it would be a crime to not check it out.

Ultimately, it's the divergent atmospheres and textures, the variety of the arrangements and the thoughtful song compositions by mastermind guitarist and primary songwriter Scott Hull that make Head Cage stand out.

Swear I'm Good at This is an assured debut with a unique voice, one that finds humour in catharsis and catharsis in humour.

Things Take Time, Take Time is an exceedingly nice-sounding record — but with almost no quotable zingers, it's hard not to shake the sense that something is missing, is missing.

Kelly Lee Owens is the work of an absolute natural; these are layered, atmospheric tracks that blend minimal techno, dream-pop, Krautrock and ambient drone into a dazzling, alchemical whole that defies easy categorization.

I Used to Spend So Much Time Alone skilfully expresses complex and murky emotions with clear and concise lyrics.

Boots' more rough and intimate look behind the duo's evolution and process is in its way no less compulsively listenable than the cohesive Revival itself, which would introduce Welch and Rawlings to the world sounding basically fully formed.

The outwardly fun melodies and rhythms are what define the album.

The tracks contained on Filo Loves the Acid are altogether enjoyable rhythmic excursions for fans of both Dozzy and acid techno alike to listen and dance along to.

Repeat listens uncover a musician trying to arrange these musical insights into something as affecting and creatively grounded as her best ambient works.

This influx of new voices finds Deerhoof exploring a number of different styles and sounds, all the while keeping that chaotic exuberance they are known for.

With Life After Youth, Powell has gifted us a beautiful treatise on how to think about life, relationships and what's important.

Lover hears Swift back on stable ground. Her songwriting is as careful, detailed and impressive as ever, she's nestled into a perfect pop niche, and it seems like being totally in love has let her head drift off into the clouds a bit. The best part: Lover lets fans wander off into the daydream with her.

Traces of previous collaborators and tourmates such as Bon Iver, Fleet Foxes, Troye Sivan and S. Carey can be found in these songs, along with the bright folk-pop energy of Maggie Rogers, yet Gordi stands out from her peers on the strength of her direct, melancholic voice and honest lyricism.

The album evokes a powerful sense of longing: a yearning for the connection, understanding, and beauty found in fleeting moments. In the hiss and fuzz of splintered memories and reveries, Powers draws us into a past that lingers, soft and near, just within reach.

Here and Nowhere Else is another heavy, catchy-as-hell Cloud Nothings record.

With lyrics steeped in critical thought and slathered with confidently modulated vocals, Lorde is the antithesis of pop schlock, making Pure Heroine a project well deserving of the commercial attention it's been receiving.

Slugger isn't a perfectly polished, radio-ready set of glossy chart-topping pop tunes, but an infectiously fun foray into shimmering, socially conscious synth-pop.

Long-time listeners will revel in the subtle sonic shifts but the rest of us are still waiting for the band to make that major artistic breakthrough we know they're capable of.

Its upbeat synth work and swirling crescendos are not just an illusion, or a cheap trick, like many songs that make up a "Happy Songs That Are Actually Sad" playlist.

Factory Floor might be known for their life-changing gigs, but their album proves that, in the studio, they also have the ability to induce shivers, body jerking and a rush of blood throughout your entire body.

Built on a fuzzy foundation, II is as classic as a psychedelic-stoner-rock record can be, building on well-loved tropes but never hesitant to colour outside the lines.

Overall, the trio showcase legend influences in their lines, while still authentically being themselves.

Maybe it's the tedium of a career spanning nearly two decades, or a shred of complacency settling in after winning the highly coveted Mercury Prize in 2016, but Skepta seems subdued on Ignorance. A decent album, but not his best.

Great art isn't great art because it's easy, and this 90-plus-minute, five-act rock opera inspired by Stickles' experience with manic depression is absolutely worth spending the time with.

Unlike most of his peers, Thompson is defying the march of time, continuing to write and perform at an exceptional level. Electric easily deserves a place alongside his best solo releases.

Like all of Barwick's work, Healing Is a Miracle is an exercise in meditation and tracing the natural flow of emotion within. Barwick masterfully creates a temporary escape from reality which relaxes tensions that slowly surrender and dissolve into its harmless components.

Although there are moments that show cracks, such as the uneasy, meandering riffs on "Born in a Rut" and the ridiculous chorus of "Canna Business," the majority of the straightforward thrash songs here demonstrate that Testament's magic has yet to fade.

The Last Rider is a gorgeous record, hazy and honeyed, which sounds and feels like a remastered '70s folk-pop classic.

While none of Samsara is necessarily bad, there are moments where tracks start to blend together and lose focus. This doesn't necessarily take away from the amazing moments of the album, but as a whole it could use a bit more variance. That being said, the record makes it clear that Venom Prison are destined to join the top of the new-school death metal pack

While Brain Candy does lose creative steam towards the back end, there's still plenty here on offer for those looking for a reprieve from the oppressive reality of day-to-day life in 2020.

This project may be just a bite-sized sample, a delicious hors d'oeuvre served up while you're waiting for whatever three-course meal that Alchemist has coming next, but it's also a reminder that Alchemist's circle doubles as a roster of some of the best rappers around.

A sound collage like no other, Garden of Delete finds Lopatin engaging listeners with an album that almost defies description.

Magma demonstrates a healthy admission and channelling of Gojira's explosive tendencies into a record that is truly an intriguing change of pace when considering the band's more eruptive past efforts.

Seven albums and 16 years into her music career, Williams seems more confident than ever in doing as she pleases instead of pleasing others.

While there's an overall sense of reining in and refining on Jump Rope Gazers that keeps it from reaching the giddiest heights of its predecessor, the band sounds just as good in this mode as the other, just a little different.

On Black Metal, Blunt's style is still very difficult to classify, yet a hint more inviting and amicable than his last.

Pull My Hair Back still shines with nonsensical warmth that is just as much sensual as strange. Kathy Lee would be proud.

It is a skilfully wrought glimpse into that dream.

Peaceful yet highly engaging, Ishi invokes the masters of modular synthesis, a music rooted in technology that somehow comes across as utterly primeval.

As listeners lose more of themselves, their fleshy armour useless in the face of absolute desolation, Contact rewards them with the knowledge of what wicked horrors they can endure. It's the bad head-trip we need to truly understand ourselves.

Witness owes its imperfect existence to garage-punk, psychedelic Afro-rock and the overarching and heartbreaking sentiment that ours is a system that we might not get out from under anytime soon.

Overall, On the Echoing Green is still an interesting listen with many enjoyable aspects, but a stronger, tighter EP might've been made from the first five tracks--or a stronger LP with less distortion and noise in the back half.

Overall, Wintres Woma is a great showcase for this extraordinary folk hero that suggests even better things might be to come.

Though Frost skilfully balanced the heaviness with some breathing room on A U R O R A, his work with Albini seems to have let in just a little more light and colour, enough to both surprise and enchant.

Here, she moves through songs about love and life that, whether because of the cavernous, sometimes tinny production or her timeless songwriting style (and often, both), feel channelled from some ghostly past where musical arrangement was simpler but emotions weren't.