While both rappers have met their match in terms of lyrical prowess and old-school ethos, the cavernous difference in their tones (Gibbs, deep and rough like a stormy sea; Curren$y, squeaky and smooth) keeps Fetti dynamic and wards of redundancy. Better still, however, are the moments when these rappers elevate the proceedings beyond street side cypher-style spitting.

Alex G is a genius at crafting intimately familiar feelings while injecting off-kilter miscues that satisfy the oddball compulsions living in our heads. The level of restraint routinely becomes unbalanced in an instant, yet the results are more reassuring than anxiety-inducing.

By making the geographically distant feel welcomingly familiar, Tinariwen have made Elwan a can't-miss release for curious audiences from all corners of the globe.

Double Negative asks much of listeners, but what you get in return is positive to say the least.

This compilation feels totally unnecessary and impersonal, neither satisfying for old fans nor will it convince new ones of the band's greater legacy. They deserve better.

Raven's unstructured, experimental feel may be unsettling for some, but the project's only other downside is that eventually, it ends.

NO NAME isn't quite as white-knuckled as the first time White made music like this, nor is it as hooky as those White Stripes songs that took them from underground weirdos to superstars. But it's exciting to hear White fully return to the sound he's best known for, with its no-nonsense execution heightened by the thrilling manner in which it was released.

While the shock has worn off for their follow-up, Deeper Than Sky makes up for the lack of surprise by being even better executed.

It's not a perfect album — at times it seems only a taste of the power that Porridge Radio will eventually wield — but it's an important album, a statement of purpose from a group with everything before them.

While his style here isn't too far removed from the melodic pop leanings of 2019's IGOR and the mixtape homage of 2021's CALL ME IF YOU GET LOST, he's continuing to expand his ambitions. There's theatrical Zamrock on "Noid," surprising sentimental softness on the polyamorous "Darling, I" and "Judge Judy," and a towering crescendo in the form of "Balloon" and "I Hope You Find Your Way Home," which end the album with celebratory grandeur.

It's a shame to find Grizzly Bear spinning their wheels.

Across U kin B the Sun, Ford's first record in six years, she offers affirmations that are deeply touching and inspiring.

LP1 is a fantastic debut from an artist who is quickly becoming the curator of her own mental museum.

Sound Ancestors is a mixed bag if ever there was one. It's funky, it's psychedelic, it's jazzy, dirty, clean, and mean. It's Madlib.

Always honing and building upon their sound, Throes of Joy in the Jaws of Defeatism is an outstanding testament to Napalm Death's continued legend and evolution.

Exploring so many sub-genres of hardcore while simultaneously telling many different stories, Diaspora Problems vaults Soul Glo into the conversation as one of the most important heavy bands in 2022.

It's too familiar-sounding to be revelatory, but six years on from A Moon Shaped Pool — the longest-ever break between Radiohead albums — it's a pleasure to hear Yorke and Greenwood's talent undiminished as they hit the sweet spot of their sound.

Celeste put out a sludgy doom-inflected black metal record; this year, Indian turned the equation on its head and put out a blackened doom record, that's equally depraved, nihilistic, and crucial for any fan of truly heavy music.

This debut album stands on its own as an artistically daring personal statement.

To the Sunset is relatively brief, but it marks a substantial--and very successful--shift for Shires towards a progressive, literate and ambitious blend of rock, folk and pop music. It may also just be her finest album yet.

Soul of a Woman is a more than worthy farewell by one of the hardest working and talented women show business has ever known.

He's probably too modest to just come out and say that Present Tense is where beauty lies, but he should; this fourth Wild Beasts album is a stunner.

All the controversy gives elements of DAYTONA some delicious extra novelty, though thankfully its core ingredients are more than fulfilling on their own.

True to Elverum's artistic instincts, the record captures a moment in time that neither he nor the audience will ever be able to recreate, which is ultimately a blessing for everyone involved.

This compilation delivers on all fronts, dropping in the melancholic with Tokimonsta and Miguel Baptista Benedict, the glitchy downtempo of Lapalux, the funk infusions of Thundercat and Georgia Anne Muldrow, the experimental house of Mr. Oizo and Ross From Friends, and of course new cuts from Flying Lotus himself.

Play with the Changes is a testament to both the friendship and musical flexibility Jordan has found, and continues to build with all involved; bonds that carry the album's range of emotions and electronics beyond dance floors to heads and hearts effortlessly.

The variety of doors presented in the album's quest for answers, or more questions, present a challenge for those who prefer a more cohesive experience. For the adventurous though, the doors crack open onto a wide variety of styles and time frames.

Although a very strong record for what it is, Some Rap Songs lacks the emotional power of the two albums that preceded it, particularly Doris, which charted Earl's transition back to civilian life from a Samoan wilderness camp.

The Mountain does not reach the same heights as the one called Monkey at the end of Demon Days, nor does it have the same sonic depth as Plastic Beach. However, it does continues in the path of both of those albums.

For 36 minutes, the listener is submerged in the LP's chaos, but when the album finishes and you come up for air, there's a feeling of obligation to go back and listen through again. It's a celebration of the singular stylings of these two hip-hop heretics, one that rejects any semblance of conformity, leaving it free to be exactly what they want it to be, whatever that is.

Hyperdub's decision to keep the material on Hyperdub 10.1 fresh and topical may take away from the commemorative feel of the comp, but the pure excitement the label's latest incites deserves nothing less than celebration.

The songs are lushly dense and about as challenging and exhilarating as pop can be.

It's surprising, deeply moving and occasionally stunning.

American Dream does exactly what a new LCD Soundsystem album should do: it brings back the rush that listening to the band always has, and adds a compelling new dimension to the band's sound--a mature, realist darkness that they'd only hinted at previously--that suggests Murphy might have been temporarily out of motivation, but he was never out of ideas.

As far as comeback albums go, May the Lord Watch is resurgence done right. But if you're new to the North Carolina duo, listen to their older work first for context.

The sheer breadth of talent that Robert Chater and Tony Di Blasi have assembled is dizzying, their collaborators as imaginatively selected as their samples.

Punk is a huge step forward for CHAI, and easily one of the best albums of the year.

With simple rhyme schemes, by no means is Chance an incredible rapper, but he is true to his artistry, the person he's growing into and is becoming a force in the new age rap realm.

While still an immensely enjoyable record, coming from someone who never shied away from mixing it up, it's hard not to walk away from the last song thinking, "Has Tillman lost his nerve?"

It's clear that Dawn's songwriting is one of her many strengths, as Meet Me at the River is only too proud to showcase.

A touch of '80s-style production, including occasional saxophone-as-emotional-beat, at times threatens to nudge things into a satirical mash-up of Dire Straits/Bruce Hornsby hits, but they ride the right side of that precipice.

Its Alvvays least penetrable, most challenging album yet — but one that still preserves the band's best qualities, sounding chaotic and painstaking at the same time.

New Long Leg may not always be positive, but it's more interesting than that, more needling and necessary. It's everything at once, a record that absorbs and spits back the unending noise of the world and asks that you take a second look, every common thing somehow made brand new.

Working with Portishead's Adrian Utley and adding Matt Tong (Bloc Party) on drums, Algiers have managed to create a dizzying tapestry of sounds that incorporates wavy synths, industrial fuzz and gospel choirs into a protest record that embodies the key stages of grief.

There are no head-turning licks or subtle details that take away from Callahan's ever-deepening purr. And when Callahan is at his most outlandish and personable, he's able to draw out the most emotion, made all the more powerful in spite of the album's limited sonic palette. If Callahan's finding himself increasingly unable to relate to other characters, he's using his music to forge a different path, inviting his audience to stand in his place.

It's not your typical upbeat pop album — instead, it's more reflective and subdued. Through it all, it stays true to the young artist that took over pop music in only a few short years.

With Over It, the Atlanta singer-songwriter is on point with a debut that's ultimately a contemplation on sexual politics and emotional availability.

On All at Once, Screaming Females possess an undiluted vision and seem to execute it flawlessly--and most significantly, without peer.

Sometimes the melodrama is enough to cringe at; sometimes the sultriness is enough to make you blush. ... Overall though, Misadventures is an impeccably polished take on that sort of emotive sing-scream stuff that fans will love.

A Year With 13 Moons is certainly a must-hear for those who favour their consonance shaded with a dollop of playful dissonance.

All said, untitled unmastered. is a brilliant mini-album that stands well on its own, but it works even better as a fascinating To Pimp a Butterfly appendix, expanding on and balancing the themes of that album both sonically and lyrically.

While it's tough to imagine Whitechapel ever topping This Is Exile--one of the most important deathcore albums ever--this record is an extremely close second. The Valley solidifies the band in their current musical direction and is easily Whitechapel's most diverse and well-composed album.

Collaboration clearly suits Destroyer well: after ten albums in close to two decades, the band still sound as vital and inventive as ever, and they're operating at the top of their game on Poison Season.

Lucidity, seldom felt as strongly in the kaleidoscopic cacophony of 2018's Some Rap Songs and on the shadowy, spectral 2019 EP Feet of Clay, is at the core of SICK!

However difficult the album may be, it's a rare pleasure to see artists who know how to make great pop songs eschewing expectations, growing beyond their previous oeuvre and audience to pursue a brave creative path into genuine 21st century music.

Although Young's had plenty of highs and lows throughout his sprawling discography, there's no question that each of his 38 studio LPs were results of a particular vision, and Hitchhiker benefits greatly from this fleeting vision captured over a single evening in 1976.

By pairing their well-honed blues rock temerity with genuine emotional weight, Spoon continue to wring new ideas out of classic sounds without veering into gimmick, staying consistent without getting stale. By slowly introducing the idea that it's cool to care, Spoon continue to expand their comfort zone.

Solo productions add ballast to an already solid outing; Knock Knock deserves your response.

The production is on point and the rhyme patterns are above average, but there's a distinct lack of cohesion.

This record is an artefact of the finest quality released to keep our ears cool and hearts throbbing, whether our future brings endless summer or nuclear winter.

Think of Mist feels airy and accessible, even as Paas quietly presents herself as one of our most slyly provocative musical theorists working today.

At the heart of it, Morbid Stuff just still sounds like friends having fun and making catchy, cathartic punk anthems for teens and almost-adults alike--offering a brief, but much needed respite from the hell that is everyday life.

It's clear from listening to and watching Way Down in the Rust Bucket that this was a truly special occasion that now lives on, in this remarkable new document of Crazy Horse in all its (ragged) glory.

For those who've held on for the ride and enjoyed the band's descent into the heart of darkness, it'll be a welcome addition to your already massive collection of the band's many gems.

Ambient music centred on glass sounds is nothing new, of course, but the duo's ability to take such a well-worn concept and turn it into a piece so meticulous and touching is a testament to their uniquely fruitful partnership.

A rose from concrete, Malibu offers a sense of wonder that's carefully rooted in funk and soul, and presents a complete vision from a blossoming new artist that's not only fearless, but leading something of a sonic revolution.

Low-end synth tones throughout the album provide a melancholy aura that at times is given additional weight from Halstead's dreamy, wistful notes. But together, it all paints an exquisite picture; dramatic worlds that in themselves can evoke vast seas of emotion. Like the sum of life moments, memories or feelings encapsulated in songs, every element with its own purpose.

Singin' is comfortably the most accomplished and self-assured Ratboys album to date.

Getting this type of content from someone so guarded makes Mr. Morale more powerful and brave, especially given some of the topics he breaches. Kendrick Lamar lets it all out.

On Cowards, Squid reveal themselves as possibly the most forward-thinking and artistic band of the new post-punk explosion. It's not an easy ride, but few of the best things are.

While Daddy's Home may not be her best record, it's a bold and rewarding one.

This is a fine soundtrack to a road movie that's yet to be filmed.

At its best, Relatives in Descent makes guitar music feel radical again, capturing both timely and timeless anxieties.

Uptempo or down, Shane's performances were maximum R&B before the term was coined.

With Reality Show, Sullivan delivers an R&B album that feels like how R&B used to sound circa late 90's/early 2000 while still coming off as forward-looking.

Curry has come a long way since he blew up and has fully solidified his place in the game. If ZUU isn't in your rotation, you're sleeping.

With All My Heroes Are Cornballs, JPEGMAFIA captures the feelings of existing in an era fuelled by mindless scrolling and compulsive tweeting, positioning himself as both a participant and vocal critic of the happenings of the current millennia.

Thankfully, the National have deftly managed that balancing act with Sleep Well Beast, a record that is equal parts familiar and fresh.

Loyalty is undeniably a folk album, underpinned by Lindeman's finger-picked guitar, spacious piano and banjo, her husky, timeless voice having taken on a new maturity, every word now clearly articulated.

Here, unknowable sounds hover, skitter and undulate against a backdrop of refined, futuristic grooves.

Artistic, intelligent (but not overly intellectualized), and executed with a skill and care many of us can only hope to comprehend, The Enduring Spirit is this year's best metal album, and one of the best albums of 2023, period, full stop.

For the first time on record, the xx sound happy. Lyrics about growing and taking a chance, especially, resonate throughout "Dangerous," "Say Something Loving" and "I Dare You," further substantiating the already-palpable sense of ambition here.

Midnights is a slow-burning journey through the labyrinth of Swift's history, groping around in the dim light for the way forward. Sometimes, in the hush of nightfall, catharsis comes quietly.

The fact that the album kinda sounds like so many things, very few of them usually adjacent to the genre, sits at the crux of the album's aspiration. Ordinary Corrupt Human Love is a critical reminder to card-carrying loyalists and new inductees alike of their own agency; that it's potentially revelatory, not sacrilegious, for the spectrum of black metal to include things outside of its purview.

This is a well-travelled band firing on all cylinders. Enjoy it with a terrible house beer and hardworking, sweaty company.

This is a must-hear. Baroness are back, and they sound as good as ever.

Sumney approaches the complexities of relationships, power structures and an inability to experience romantic love with a quiet, powerful confidence.

With its melodic focus on the bass and heady lyrical vision expressed through quirky pop-tinged aesthetics, the album is full of moments that feel effortless while being thoughtful.

Between their unflagging energy and brilliant execution, Inter Arma have produced a stellar album that will remain memorable.

It is an album dense with meaning, with excellent, full-throated singing, tempered guitar playing, and an elusive, decorative prettiness.

It isn't easy listening, akin to catching up with an over-sharing friend going through troubled times, but the stories are sad, funny and surprising, and the rewards are plentiful.

This three-disc set isn't just a nostalgia-inducing reminder of Killing Joke's tremendous evolution since 1979; it also showcases the striking consistencies in the band's sound and ethos.

Heart-rending, arterial and woundingly authentic, As The Stars is a hell of a record to drop on Valentine's day.

Korkejian moves buoyantly alongside bouncy instrumentation, determined to get somewhere, but willing to enjoy the journey along the way. And what a beautiful sounding journey it is.

Sondre Lerche's latest may not be worth picking apart lyrically, but it is a treat for the ears. The exquisite production combined with the pop sensibility on Patience makes it delectable.

Wolf and producer Jared Solomon (a.k.a. Solomonophonic) pack every song with laugh-out-loud lyrics and confetti blasts of squelchy synth-funk, but for all the modern bedroom pop accoutrements, Juno's greatest strengths are the raw materials of melody and lyrics.

All filtered through Davidson's signature brand of deadpan humour, this is a hilarious, challenging dance floor record, and you're going to have to take it seriously.

On Pray for Haiti, he has successfully stayed true to his roots while offering unique yet less obtuse content.