Campbell’s ideals are distilled into a tight nine-track album in which influences are evoked, grafted onto fresh numbers and cut loose to scratch insistently at the listener’s ear.

If you admire The Knife’s music for its incredible unpredictability and off-the-scale inventiveness, you are likely to consider this to be at least amongst their best work yet.

This is, therefore, a searing, no holds barred album, uncompromising in its delivery and unstinting in its musical language.

It's absorbing and enchanting without having to resort to formulaic song structures, pop thrills or radio-friendly catchiness.

It’s different enough from its predecessor to show marked progress, but with all the original essentials present and correct. The bar was set high; All Pigs Must Die have set it higher still.

The overwhelming impression is of a band looking forward, seizing opportunities and further boosting their reputation. The second half of the album feels like it has even more to dig into, even greater depth to explore.

This is a record with so much swagger, poise and confidence it could have been recorded by a band twice their age.

This is the most challenging yet of Hayden Thorpe’s solo oeuvre – but also the most rewarding, for you can appreciate it without knowing anything about Orford Ness. The music compels you to undertake a voyage of discovery, to travel in your mind if not your body – but if you’ve been there, you will recognise the sights, the sounds, the sea spray and the ever-constant wind.

It pays to listen to the originals, to form a full appreciation of just how much Jones brings to the table in each interpretation, expressing more emotion than he probably has at any point in his career. The instrumentation is the icing on the cake.

In an interview once, she admitted, “I see things in my head. I dream in colour”. This posthumous addition to her near perfect catalogue confirms that statement, expertly revealing how attuned to the universe she was and how vibrantly her imagination shone in the dark.

Clever but debauched, silly but serious, this is the best album of their career thus far.

That they emerge victorious is a tribute to the strength of these fine songs as well as some seriously glamourous production attitude.

This is a staggering record, displaying not only a golden streak of songwriting but also a band newly energised to their cause - making it a return to form of near biblical proportions. Highly recommended.

The Mysterines are clearly one of the best bands we have to offer here in the UK, and they make a great point of proving themselves time and again across this wonderful, strange album. .... Superb.

Where an artist as eclectic and unpredictable as this might go next is anybody’s guess, but on the basis of this quietly spectacular album, it’s likely that listeners will be more than happy to follow him into the unknown.

This is a brave but captivating debut album, exploring the inner parts of the mind, and proves a very strong addition to the Brownswood canon.

Maya Shenfeld’s towering achievement is to craft a highly effective polemical record with no words, the music saying all that needs to be said: throw in imaginative sound design and a deft approach to pacing and the result is an out-and-out triumph.

This is very much an album that feels necessary right now--one that packs a political punch without being didactic or evangelical--and offers positive thinking, including a clarion call of co-operative and community responses to global issues.

The Year Of Hibernation is a powerful bit of emotional alchemy, arresting and enchanting in its naked simplicity, and Powers has accomplished a tour de force far beyond his bedroom walls or his 22 years.

Field Report’s debut maintains a wondrous sense of ambiguity while still creating an unbelievable urgency.

Julianna Barwick is crafting gorgeously effecting sounds in a way that nobody has quite heard before, far beyond the snickering Enya comparisons or the reductive ties to Eno's ambience, this isn't music for thinking or studying, this is just music for living.

It’s easily Alice Cooper’s strongest album in decades, a testament to the resilience, and seemingly endless creative capacity the man has.

An album that sits comfortably in the 4AD canon of excellence.

The soundtrack brings together the two phases of Walker, so to speak: the rich, sweeping orchestral one heard from The Walker Brothers and through the solo Scotts 1-4, before morphing into the avant-garde, claustrophobic, doom-laden one from 1995’s Tilt onwards.

Weezer have made one of their most catchy and insightful records to date.

Complete Strangers is one of those collections where over the course of several listens each song enjoys time as being considered the highpoint of the album only for another track to supplant it soon after. Whisper it, but Vetiver may have just made one of the albums of the year.

Swing Lo Magellan affords generous breathing space to Dirty Projectors' music: a context in which new levels of unpretentious eloquence positively flourish.

There’s the archetypical vulnerability lurking beneath each track, but their sound suggests something everyone from that mid-2000s period has (hopefully) done--matured and become more assured. With it, indie pop mk II has as well. Excellent, this.

One of the 21st century's most intelligent and satisfying bands (musically, lyrically, emotionally) have once again set out their stall, and once again produced a work of inspired resonance, capturing truth after truth, in all its muddled, human realism.

It’s a remarkably assured album that shines light on Hayes as an artist of note while further enhancing Brewis’ reputation as an irrepressible source of creativity. It might only be January but this is an album that will bring joy right up to the end of the year and beyond.

Anyone with even a passing interest in Royksopp--whose ears have been pricked by an Eple or Poor Leno--could do far worse than immerse themselves in one of 2009's greatest releases.

Songdreaming is a big musical event. It is a great place to start if you are less familiar with folk music, opening its arms to ambient and electronic influences while simultaneously celebrating traditional instruments and old melodic forms. It is also a great place to visit if you’ve lived with these forms of music for decades.

At times, it’s so honest that you may feel like you’re prying into someone’s diary, but it will be a major surprise if this funny, clever, heartbreaking record isn’t nestling at the top of the Album Of The Year polls come December.

Falling down, getting up, and persevering through music is something Superchunk have done time and time again. On I Hate Music, they’ve bested even themselves.

The stronger of the two records by a clear mile, it breaks away from Sword’s definition of drone to incorporate clear distinctions in its abrasive mise-en-scène.

What follows maintains both the high standard and the mixture of shades and textures.

This is a real cracker of an album.

The 11 songs collected here are all among the very best of his career, enlivened with a vividness and warmth that offers something new with every repeated listen.

Hit Me Hard And Soft might be the very best pop album released so far in 2024, and it’s certainly one of the most enjoyable.

It will surely be remembered as perhaps the greatest Frank Black LP (to date, at least) and perhaps even as the record that made it cool to like country again.

For, as beautiful as the arrangements are on End Of The Middle, it’s Dawson’s lyricism that raises this up to another level.

The whole album is awash with reminders of not just how good The Breeders were, but how good The Breeders still are.

God’s Favorite Customer is the next chapter to Honeybear: the story of the hedonistic shroom-addled Hollywood waster who fell in love and started to grow up, even if the occasional pelvic thrust, sardonically raised eyebrow or over-dramatic fall to the floor wouldn’t go amiss.

Sundfør's combination of careful, detailed arrangement and unrepentant magic realism is visionary and enriching.

While the two outer instrumentals are undeniably moving, this record is definitely Mark Lanegan's. There is no voice quite like his--and none that leaves the same impact.

While Thought Forms impress, it is Esben And The Witch who in two tracks, in 15 brief minutes, absolutely stun.

It’s a work that’s beautifully single minded, but may be a little too much of an undertaking for some. What’s inescapable is that it’s the sound of a person bravely questioning her place in the world, often in inspired fashion.

Heartbreak is rarely as raw or bittersweet as it is on Michelangelo Dying. It is a brave piece of work, Cate Le Bon surrendering to her feelings in a costly emotional investment but delivering a piece of work whose release must be immensely cathartic. Such inner strength proves ultimately uplifting.

Holden has created a life-affirming hour in the musical heavens, just as the title promises.

This is something we've been waiting a long time for - a truly great Manics album.

Overall, since their formation in 1997, The Dillinger Escape Plan have seamlessly fused math metal with aspects of pop and jazz, a trend that wholeheartedly continues on One Of Us Is The Killer.

This could be the biggest revelation of the lot. It simply does not get any better than Love.

Although the departure of Weiss is sad, it hasn’t diminished any of Brownstein and Tucker’s power: The Centre Won’t Hold sees them as vital, compelling and as searingly relevant as ever.

It’s a bold, contemporary sounding record that is also aware of its broader lineage, something encapsulated by opening track Stranger Than Fiction.

Whilst it obviously won’t be eligible for the Mercury Music Prize on the basis of nationality, this compelling, rigorous and often beautiful work ought to receive the same level of attention as Jessie Ware’s debut.

He doesn't ever disappear too far up his backside, instead keeping an attentive ear on what his devotees might still want to hear.

Föllakzoid carry forward both traditions in their own uncompromising way, and with III they deliver their most polished album to date, and their most coherent statement of how they relate to their forebears.

These songs have a level of depth, detail and ambition that show how Case does things emphatically on her own terms. This album reveals her to be at the peak of her powers, extending her already strong legacy in hugely satisfying fashion.

Once again, this is the sound of Wrekmeister Harmonies reporting back from the edges of existence and experience where, on this evidence, it’s both terrifying and beautiful.

It’s about clean lines, geometric beauty and clear sincerity. But it also has depth, richness and luxurious colour. It can be taken as superficially perfect pop music, or you can listen a little deeper and hear just how intricately woven her heartbreak anthems really are. She is an artist in the truest sense. And Honey is her latest masterpiece.

De Facto takes all that was good about Lorelle Meets The Obsolete and makes it even better. The groovier undercarriage suits their sound, as do the enhanced keyboards, and the substance of their music is hugely impressive.

There's absolutely nothing indecisive (or indeed shit) about this album. It's swaggering, full-throttle, full-throated genius.

This could well be Midlake's masterpiece, which is saying something considering the esteem in which The Trials Of Van Occupanther is held.

For what it sets out to do, it's damn near perfect, and what higher praise is there than that?

While James Blake came good on his Mercury prize winning second album, William Doyle as East India Youth has delivered a stunningly exquisite work on his very first go.

By the time we reach closing track Who Brings Me the journey through the cloudscape is complete, sealing an experience that is equal parts head and heart music. It’s an absorbing, cohesive listen that casts fresh light on familiar structures and melds them into new and appealing shapes.

Paradise is the sound of a more mature and confident Slow Club, but without losing that adorable edge that's so vital to them. Start clearing some space at the top of those 'Best of 2011' lists, for this is sure to figure.

This is real music, about real people, dealing in real emotion. That it sounds so gorgeously lush too is mere icing on a very rich cake.

There’s not an ounce of fat to be found. It might be a little lo-fi in places, but it doesn’t matter, this is the definition of an album that is all-killer-no-filler.

This being Cave, classy lyrical dexterity is never far away. But here the fire and brimstone preacher is a little less po-faced than much of his back catalogue, allowing humour (still black as coal) to gain the upper hand.

Saturns Pattern may lack an apostrophe but there’s nothing missing from his musical grammar. He’s still in his prime as a musician.

Music For Psychedelic Therapy is a real accomplishment, otherwordly escapism that’s irresistible for the mind, body and soul.

Coupling the stark lyrical honesty with the understated beauty of the melodies and instrumentation produces an album that that will stay with you for a very long time indeed.

They make up an entire color palette of music and lyrics, of sounds and themes, that when combined on Rutili’s canvas make up truly original territory.

It is instinctive but planned, primal but enlightened, and hazy but focused. The only sure thing about it is that it is Ulver’s finest work to date.

To say Lookaftering takes up where Just Another Diamond Day left off is an understatement. It feels like no time has elapsed at all since 1970, neither in her own life nor the outside world.

Beyoncé mostly eschews polished vocal performances in favour of expression, with the intricate vocal runs that wrap up Plastic Off The Sofa a notable exception, and while the explosive final verse of Heated is being edited at time of writing its raw and spontaneous quality is intensely satisfying.

It’s the sort of album that even repeated listenings can throw up a myriad of surprises: you never really get to know who the character of Father John Misty is (is he a self-hating misogynist, is he a sage or is he just a simple romantic?), but it’s clear that Josh Tillman has slowly turned into one of the most talented songwriters of our age.

An album that finds Wire once again proving that they’re still one of the most inventive and exciting bands around.

The shifting contours of Stetson’s music make for unpredictable and challenging but frequently awe-inspiring terrain.

Somehow, there’s an odd clarity to be found amongst all the noise, distortion and decay. The Body might have looked to their past in finding the sound for this album, but in creating this slab of grief and anger, they’ve managed to be uncannily prescient. This is probably one of the most relevant and affecting albums of 2021.

Fanfare is the sort of album Jonathan Wilson was bound to make, immaculately crafted and perfectly defined.

We emerge from the album into the cold light of day somewhat dazed and maybe even a little overwhelmed, but in no doubt of the incendiary power of what has just been experienced.

This is ambience in which to indulge, though occasionally the structure of the songs becomes ragged, as if a little bit too much late night medication has been taken on board. That doesn't spoil any of the songs, but it just makes them that bit weirder.

There’s barely a weak track on Surrender, and it’s a record that’s destined to appear on a lot of ‘end of year’ lists come December. The fact that this is only Maggie Rogers’ second album is astonishing, given the level of confidence and ability that shines through it.

They’re looking forward, stepping outside of their comfort zone and creating some of the most interesting, ambitious music of their long career.

While the theme of the album may be dedications to others, what Mehldau has ultimately crafted is an ode to the confidence, style and precision of his own trio's playing, displaying all the panache and charm of old companions reuniting once more.

Like all ambitious double albums, [Aerial] is not without its flaws, but even Bush's moments of failure are much more interesting than those of her contemporaries.

He's an outsider and the best thing about this marvellous compilation, however lush the sound and however catchy the melodies, is that it does absolutely nothing to change that.

This is an album that sounds fresh despite having its roots firmly planted in the post-hardcore/pre-grunge era.

It's comparable to Late Of The Pier's debut Fantasy Black Channel; a lot on show but with hints of greater achievement. But Man Alive is a step up from that. It could well be their masterpiece; their scatterbrained work of art.

Coral Island is an ambitious record that never topples under the weight of that ambition. Unusually for a double album there’s barely any filler and the songs have a timeless quality that keeps you returning. At the end of their second decade, The Coral have released the best album of their career.

This isn't showing off with noise like post-rock can sometimes be accused of; it is, rather, intricate knowledge of how a leaderless band uses its flexibility to craft rises and falls that consume and envelop, making it an essential addition to anyone's list of 2011 records to own.

The dark, introspective nature of Idles’ latest release may well disappoint those who love the band for their rabble-rousing, tongue-in-cheek headbangers. But for those who’ve been waiting some time for the beloved Bristolians to take a left turn with their sound, Crawler is an absolute thrill.

Fires Within Fires once again proves Neurosis to be a strong and inventive creative force.

Love them or loathe them, it is hard to ignore the brash confidence with which the band take another giant stride towards stadium dominance.

There’s not much on this album which will raise the eyebrows of anyone familiar with their previous work, as it falls somewhere between the fuzzy glow of 1993’s Souvlaki and the dispassionate chill of its follow-up Pygmalion. But Everything Is Alive is joyful listen regardless, taking the cloud tunnel bliss of the best shoegaze and adding some pure pop pleasure. Cinema for the ears? More like dream visions for the soul.

Weighing in at just 32 minutes, Treats can hardly be accused of outstaying its welcome. In fact, its brevity is its strength - too much aural pummelling could be too much. As it is, as soon as the album finishes, you'll want to put it on again straight away.