Harder, better, faster and stronger than their excellent debut, 2009's Post Nothing.

Cantus, Descant is accessible without ever feeling thoughtless, plays to Davachi's sonic strengths, and provides just enough experimentation and variety to justify its daunting running time. It's a journey worth taking.

The King of Whys is wrought with restless artistry, simultaneously looking for and finding emotional release through musical exploration, lyrical introspection and bits of dry humour.

Dreams Worth More Than Money overflows with sonic effervescence, drawing you into the snake pit that is the mainstream hip-hop industry, with all the opulent trappings therein. Tight production support ingenious raps that continue to push the envelope of the street anthem narrative.

It only takes a few spins to detach oneself from the hype and respect the admirable groundwork laid down here for future greatness.

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.

As usual, fascinating choices abound when a lost Bob Dylan session is unearthed (and, excitingly, signalling that maybe there's way more of this kind of stuff to come), but this one feels particularly prototypical and casual, and, with good humour, was intended to warm folks up — to each other and the material — more than get its hypothetical audience hot and bothered.

Hell Can Wait succeeds as a reintroduction of sorts, showing Staples as a more focused and forward-moving artist who will surely outlive "them red roses."

This brilliant light on the country's folk music scene has never sounded better.

With each album they add more to their story, and the underlying emotional connection to the band and their songs is what grows in intensity.

Nine albums into their career, Animal Collective continue to deliver records far ahead of their time.

Though highly unlikely to unseat Hometowns or Departing as fan favourites, The Wild follows in the footsteps of the band's previous album, Mended with Gold, as a very strong album that doesn't yet hold the same sentimental value as their earlier material.

A lot of Aphex EPs are marred by fairly forgettable tracks (who's blasting "Nannou" in 2023?), but this latest one is solid tungsten all the way through.

Courageous and passionate, Bada$$ is a well-timed soundtrack to social and political struggle. While the album specifically chronicles the horrors of being a young black man in America, Joey articulates his angst in a way that easily resonates with anyone stumbling under the weight of oppression.

With their traditional sound mixing well with some new elements, Utilitarian marks the next chapter in Napalm Death's impressive career.

Harris is a sage escort to have along for the ride, and with the spare concrete signifiers and evocative open spaces she provides on Grid of Points, she's crafted a map for the full spectrum of human emotions and experiences.

GRIP is more than just a showcase for the return of Black queer spaces. It’s a celebration of the relationships — passionate, platonic, lasting, fleeting, loving, lustful — that these spaces foster.

Throughout Dawn, she exhibits wit and exemplary control and the blurred genre lines on the album are her playground.

Trouble Will Find Me burns slowly, but melds together more seamlessly with each listen.

A powerful return to form.

By KiCK iiiii, we are in truly subdued territory. An avant-classical journey into quieter realms, it privileges instrumental detail and tender lyricism over rhythmic intensity.

Taken as a whole, this is the kind of record that will infect your life, to paraphrase "Sepsis," one of the record's standouts. I, for one, am down to let it kill me.

Monument Building finds Loscil at his most focused, political and meticulous, a bleak but fulfilling listen whether you're aware of the album's brainy themes or not.

This ranks amongst Gelb's most vital albums in an already storied career.

Electric Lady Sessions perhaps best functions as the defining calling card of a post-reunion LCD Soundsystem.

Totally original, completely unselfconscious and wonderfully catchy, WINK is one of those rare albums that you can throw on anytime and let it guide you on the journey it has laid out before you.

A few duds like the repetitive "Glow Up" and the sappy duet with Prince Charlez "Smile" aside, Strength Of A Woman is Blige's finest offering in over a decade.

Steffi's transitions on Panorama Bar 05 sound smooth enough that they turn a mix listener's typical consideration of song blends towards the complementary selection of plunging machine sounds, naturalized in Panorama Bar 05 upon the steps of an ascendant, emotive trajectory.