With ‘The Passionate Ones’, he has honed his intuitive songwriting and production for an experience that is warped, welcoming and deservedly self-assured.

There’s some fatigue while listening to the slower tracks like ‘Shine Your Light For We’ – turning his laidback style into something mind-numbing, but these moments are pretty rare. .... Without special guests this time around, he doubles down on what he does best: directing the dancefloor with precision, patience and pure instinct.

Though there’s always a lot happening on the surface, at the core of ‘Baby’ are songs so finely hewn that they’re never overshadowed.

His clear-eyed spoken-word and stylish beatmaking, both sharpened since his 2021 eponymous debut, combine for a brutal, complex study of his city. The key to the album’s brilliance is Balfe’s darting between small, succinct portraits, from barflies to beatings.

It’s the softest of her records, yet perhaps the most emotionally violent. .... If this truly is the end of her story, it’s hard to imagine a more heartfelt way to lay Ethel Cain to rest.

‘Black Star’ isn’t the diasporic spectacle she originally hinted at – it’s a hedonistic pop recalibrator that hits no matter where you’re from.

The choice to join forces with so many artists was always a huge risk, and unfortunately, it sometimes ends up dampening the charm that first set them apart from the masses. But in the moments where it does come together, it’s both epic and intriguing as hell.

At times, they get a bit bogged down in their own experiments – the eight-minute-31-second ‘Volcano’ perhaps overstays its welcome – but, mostly, ‘The New Eve Is Rising’ presents a singular band doing things just right, and completely in their own world.

Though the emotional details can get swept up in the wall of sound, ‘If Not Winter’ is still a triumphant debut – and more than anything, the sound of a young artist who’s still growing into herself.

By blending melody, harmony and palpable atmosphere, Folk Bitch Trio have created a masterful debut that lingers long after the final notes ring out.

Clocking in at a chiselled 28 minutes, ‘Don’t Tap The Glass’ is primarily anchored by disco-flavoured raps and Kangol-clad ’80s hip-hop. ‘Stop Playing With Me’ digs up, dusts off and digitises some Whodini and Run DMC-style drums to great effect

A potential future classic.

A rich reward for the Alex Giannascoli faithful: his 10th album is no less bizarre than what’s come before, nor the melodies less beautiful.

‘No Signs Of Weakness’ plays more like a curated playlist of experiments rather than a fully realised body of work: it lacks direction, the momentum sputters, and even some of the more ambitious tracks could’ve used another round of sculpting.

As a whole, though, ‘Swag’ often feels poorly edited, its 21 tracks accumulating into a directionless slog. The production may have its moments, but the lyrics rarely deliver the depth to match.

‘Let the Lord Sort ’Em Out’ isn’t a total misfire: it’s composed, thoughtful and often impressively lyrically detailed. But after 16 years, Clipse didn’t come back knocking down doors and shocking the world.

‘My First Album’ is an impassioned and idiosyncratic patchwork, one which paints a portrait of anxious and wistful personhood that is, on the contrary, definitive and assured.

On their second effort, they’ve evolved into a smarter, sexier and altogether stronger creature.

There are moments of pure spectacle, such as the delightfully absurd accordion-rave lead single ‘Joyride’, and ‘Yippie-Ki-Yay’, an unholy fusion of Def Leppard and Florida Georgia Line. .... ‘Love Forever’, ‘The One’, ‘Too Hard’ are relatively straightforward love songs that don’t reach the vulnerability of albums past. It all builds to the closing track ‘Cathedral’, a spiritual sequel to ‘Praying’.

The mental processes, emotions, and reflections that have defined a transformative period, and the years that preceded it, all come to life here.

There are moments where the production feels slightly misjudged. .... But ultimately, ‘Virgin’ is a vibrant combination of Lorde’s best qualities, and then some.

His lyrics and instrumentals may be more intricate than before, but they come together more coherently than ever. This isn’t just Loyle Carner at his most refined, it is the start of a new chapter.

OThe real problem is the gloopy, mush-mouthed ballads that take up the rest of the album.

One could, incorrectly, mistake this for a Danielle Haim solo album: her lyrics pull no punches, and her voice is even more the band’s centre of gravity. But when Alana sings her first full lead vocal in the band’s discography, on the Arthur Russell-inspired disco cut ‘Spinning’, and Este takes the spotlight on the synth-country ballad ‘Cry’, they’re both revelations – vulnerable like they’ve never been before.

The results are varied, but this is just one frame of a much bigger picture of Jin’s solo career – one where he will undoubtedly continue to grow and prosper the more he leans into what suits him best.

‘Addison’ is bold, expressive, and catchy as hell, and with little overt biography, it’s completely personal in its craftsmanship.

The album constantly reaches out to the pop world: exploring how hardcore might form the basis for something technicolour, playful and accessible. That attitude towards the genre, as capable of mass appeal and ripe for experimentation, is what powers this excellent album.

‘More’ is everything you’d want a Pulp album to be, made richer from some lived experience.

Here, Simz is stripped to the root, healing in real time. Raw, flawed and deeply human – this is what blooming really sounds like.

‘Caroline 2’ marks a fully fleshed-out blueprint for a Caroline 2.0: a well-refined octet pushing musical boundaries in their most dazzling release to date.

So while ‘Something Beautiful’ probably isn’t Cyrus’s most hit-packed album, it does feel like a fully realised artistic statement. This post-genre pop star has pulled off another pretty big swing.

We are now seeing the band like never before. Not only are they showcasing some of their most intriguing and impactful material, but they’re also paving the way into a hopeful new chapter.

Sonically, it’s a step up from the guitar-driven mayhem that characterised their roots, without just slapping some synths on top like many of their indie counterparts. In reality, they’ve never sounded closer to that wacky, eccentric live band down your local on a Friday night – and maybe that’s where their truest form lies.

When Wretch said ‘Home?’ would be “soul food”, he wasn’t kidding. It goes beyond that, becoming a testament to the strength of roots that refuse to wither and a promise that – no matter where you are in the world – you can always find a piece of home in this record.

‘Sincerely,’ sometimes meanders – six woozy minutes of ‘Lose My Cool’ is too much – but more often, it matches the dreamy intimacy of Uchis’ stunning 2020 smash ‘Telepatía’. Here, her music shimmers with confidence even when her lyrics hint at deep-rooted insecurities.

‘Even In Arcadia’ shatters any pressure of expectation into oblivion, building on the bravery of its predecessor, sonically, while its lyrics reveal the most exposed version of Vessel we’ve seen yet. From Eden to Arcadia – and beyond – let the worship continue.

She’s no longer content with being the elusive girl behind the screen, proving she can shapeshift, push boundaries and still keep us hooked – all in under 20 minutes.

Still as sharp and impactful [as 2023's self-titled debut] but focused more on the spaces in between her stories than the plots themselves.

We already knew Samia was a sublime songwriter, but on her third album, she sets a new bar – and then some.

Matching Murphy’s career-best lyrics are some of the rest of the band’s most eclectic compositions.

Through a rich exploration of genres and a new level of emotional depth, it becomes clear that ‘Skeletá’ was made with a new vision in mind, and comes as the promising start of a new Ghost chapter.

In the end, ‘More Chaos’ does exactly what it says on the tin: it’s overloaded, aggressive, and unruly – and that’s the point.

Though ‘Send A Prayer My Way’ doesn’t always grip you with the immediacy of either Baker or Scott’s respective solo careers, it’s still refreshing to hear two very well-established songwriters exploring such distinct new territory together.

Though this is not Bon Iver’s answer to ‘Brat’ summer by any stretch of the imagination, many of these same existential questions also linger on ‘SABLE, fABLE’ – a record that grapples with his own identity as much as it does the twists and turns of life. Though some fans feared this might well be an epilogue to the Bon Iver project, it comes across as more of a rebirth.

Admittedly, many of the techniques Skrillex uses in his transitions haven’t aged well. There are only so many sped-up snares and risers you can listen to without thinking of that one Lonely Island sketch (or this hilarious Soundcloud mix). But the drops are so worth it – and in a post-hyperpop world, it’s even more impressive that they still manage to make so much impact, like on the long-awaited ‘Voltage’, or the grinding halftime banger ‘San Diego VIP’.

‘Star’ is his most cinematic and widescreen work yet. Clean, cavernous sound design directs all attention to his speak-sing drawl, while ear-candy sampling – such as the pitter-patter of rainfall and indulgent vrooooooms of a race car – makes for effective world-building.

There’s a fresh warmth to ‘Forever, Howlong’, but don’t mistake that for sonic pathetic fallacy. The pregnant protagonist of ‘Nancy Tries To Take The Night’ has one of the most devastating narrative arcs on the record; the combination of banjo and nylon guitar makes for such an unusually rich tone for the band, bolstered by Hyde’s sonorous alto that grounds the song.

Akpro’s debut is a dark, winding ode to the UK capital, grounded in his own experiences and expressed with a subtle mystery. This sense of nuance – often missing so early in an artist’s journey – makes for one absolutely captivating listen.

In an album full of surprises, though, it’s the last track that will catch most listeners unawares: a cover of My Bloody Valentine’s ‘Sometimes’. The shoegaze original buried its words underneath abundant layers of guitars, but from SPELLLING, lines like “You can’t hide from the way I feel” resound with a limitless echo.

‘Lonely People with Power’ could perhaps have used a little pruning. For the most part, though, it stands as a testament to the power not just of forging your own lane, but becoming master of it, too.

Though longing and mortality have long been recurring themes in Dacus’ music, the stakes feel even higher – and even more gripping – when there’s so much to lose.

Instead of offering a truly revealing glimpse into their relationship – as the album cover suggests – ‘I Said I Love You First’ maintains a noticeable distance between artist and listener, and leaves you feeling a little empty by the end.

A swaggering display of confidence by a band in total command of their craft, ‘Tsunami Sea’ is solid-as-granite proof that heavy music retains its vitality and relevancy in 2025. The punishing elegance of Spiritbox’s new album will punch a hole through your chest and wrap its aqueous arms around your heart.

As a (black) whole, ‘Night Life’ is an impressive return from a band that has taken a long time to metamorphose into this fabulous current form.

Opulence is the perfect playground for Zauner’s spiky sensibilities, an allegorical minefield for the morbidity and bloodiness of our hedonistic modern existences. No one nails that like Japanese Breakfast.

From underground hero to untouchable force, Playboi Carti cements his spot as rap’s feral frontrunner.

As slippery and unpredictable as ever, this Courting record is indie music for pop fans and pop music for indie fans – there’s enough for everyone to take a bite.

She asserts herself not just as a global star, but as a fully realised artist, shaping her sound and vision with an intentionality that signals real growth.

The album is eclectic, unapologetic and, at times, a little lost in its own spectacle.

Like Queens Of The Stone Age at their party-starting best, HotWax’s debut album is full of filthy rock’n’roll that’s made for dancing. That next great guitar band has arrived.

Ultimately, ‘Mayhem’ feels like a great Gaga album because it’s just so much fun. At times, it’s a bit like reconnecting with an old friend who makes sense even when they seem to be chatting nonsense.

The run time might seem a tad lengthy to some, but it would prove hard to tire from a voice as listenable as Tala’s.

‘Service Station At The End Of The Universe’ isn’t the mark of an artist finding his sound, but a confident, authentic trailblazer who knows his craft inside out.

From the get go, Bdrmm delight in defying expectation. .... What’s so compelling about the record is the urgency of Smith’s writing this time round.

There’s no build-up here – the record begins at maximum intensity, a full throttle barrage of chainsaw guitars and hyperspeed drums. .... The problem, however, is that immediacy can be a double-edged sword – there are points on ‘Blindness’ calling out for more work.

For Nao, it’s also a representation of the growth (and heartache and pain) she’s pushed through in the decade since her debut and how she’s come out the other side, lighter, warmer and happier – but just as brilliant.

Fender’s effortlessly direct lyrics are the anchor that uphold him as a heavyweight within Britain’s indie rock scene. The closing tracks of the album – ‘TV Dinner’, ‘Something Heavy’ and ‘Remember My Name’, on which he is joined by Easington Colliery Band – see him reaching upwards with new sonic ambitions.

The result is a rock-solid collection of bops that gives McRae space to grow in the future. She’s great at sultry and self-confident moments, but ‘So Close To What’ proves she has other shades in her colour palette.

It [‘In Twos’], much like the rest of ‘Phonetics On And On’, works because of its lack of pretensions and its back-to-basics spirit. Second time around, Horsegirl are still recasting past greats in their own vision but finding more of themselves as they go.

Sonically, ‘Critical Thinking’ has touches of the European modernist propulsion of 2014 renaissance record ‘Futurology’ and the graceful ABBA pop flourishes of 2021 predecessor ‘The Ultra Vivid Lament’. But its uplifting warmth met with provocative spikiness feels like an album written staring up at the posters of their teenage art-pop and indie heroes – meant for the crackle of a record or the buzz of a cassette.

The whole time, instrumentally, Squid are pulling punches or letting loose at unexpected turns. Though more collaborative than their past works, the chaotic brew of ‘Cowards’ is still focused and potent.

Throughout ‘Open Wide’, Inhaler display a powerful confidence that’s impossible to resist. Comforting, cathartic and heaps of fun.

It is rare to see artists come bolting out the gate with such a strong identity, but here is someone who knows exactly who they are, what they want, and still daring to achieve more. It’s no surprise Heartworms has taken off in recent years, but ‘Glutton For Punishment’ proves she can stick the landing.

‘Hallucinating Love’ cherry-picks fresh blooms and euphoric alt-pop melodies to enhance what we already know and love about Maribou State.

When he tells us that “fame is a disease” on ‘Drive’ or laments being trapped in a “penthouse prison” on ‘Cry For Me’, these are hardly original ideas. But they do feel like authentic expressions of anguish from The Weeknd.

The production (by Wheezy, ATLJacob and others) laid a solid foundation for Baby to make a few hits, but the record is nothing to write home about.

On ‘Louder, Please’, Gray’s music has finally caught up with her lifestyle. The crackly sounds of the underground finally have their unfiltered moments, while her long-standing pop sensibilities still retain their place through respectable chorus hooks and addictive melodies (her classical vocal training is also clear for all to see).

Central Cee could easily remain hidden behind his signature mystique, but instead tells the story of a boy turned man all while on the world’s stage. No smoke and mirrors, the album is authentically Cench every step of the way.

The swiftly released follow-up staves off a bad case of sequelitis because it successfully deepens Swims’ story.

Twigs has successfully shown that the connection of music, movement, mind, soul and body can be converted into sound, weaving these elements into a cohesive and transcendent artistic experience. She brings her own assured sense of creativity and spirituality and combines it with her ability to materialise the intangible.

It’s compelling and moving songwriting that manages to depict all of life’s complexities, Canal spinning raw emotion into beautifully crafted songs.

Still shamelessly livin’ it up, with an eyebrow cocked and high kicks galore, ‘The Human Fear’ is – as promised – Franz-y as fuck. You do you, hun; you do it so well.

This record is loud, raw, and impossible to ignore.

On ‘Debí Tirar Más Fotos’, Benito revolutionizes Puerto Rico’s folk music and reclaims his reggaeton throne with game-changing fusions that are authentic to him and what he believes in.

Casual fans may not last even three minutes. But for those who are willing to sit with its discomfort, ‘Perverts’ reveals hidden depths – the same way that eyes need time to adjust to low light. What it reflects is in the eye of the beholder.

The recently-liberated star rarely misses on ‘Afrikan Alien’ – aside from ‘Soda’, which is a poor attempt at jumping on the Afro-piano wave. But, from showing off his surprisingly angelic vocal chops on ‘Round & Round’ to delivering introspective gems birthed from his self-reflection, this tape is an enchanting glimpse into the inner workings of the rapper.

It’s an album steeped in balladry and strummy, sad-girl pop, each track a soft unraveling of her inner world. And yet, coming from Rosé – an artist who has long had to keep her personal life under wraps – this stripped-back approach feels nothing short of bold.

Despite holding onto this grief, Wizkid puts that energy into more dancefloor fillers. Fun and experimental, while still harnessing an element of traditional afrobeats, the dance section of ‘Morayo’ builds on ‘More Life, Less Ego’’s high-energy yet effortless aura.

Dre and Snoop forgot the legacy they created for the West Coast with ‘Doggystyle’ and – although there are flashes of fun – the forgettable collection barely scratches the surface of their legendary status.

The sonic range on display is certainly a stark departure from the twisted world of Chvrches’ thrilling 2021 album ‘Screen Violence’, but at times, it can feel more like an ideas workshop than a bold artistic statement.

There’s confidence, and then there’s this.

An easy contender for the rap album of 2024.

Combines her strengths with her evergreen knack of embracing the moment into a collection that exudes maturity and class.

Unlike ‘Kiwanuka’, this album doesn’t keep you guessing. Rather than punching you in the face with a barrage of beauty, it softly rolls pockets of magic into your path. Yet, the softness of its approach does nothing to lessen the impact of Kiwanuka’s long-awaited return.

He’s bowed out from the spotlight to produce a record that tunes into love, ageing and the search for meaning without the compulsion for a punchline or wry aside. As a result, the lush ‘Mahashmashana’ doesn’t quite mainline the zeitgeist in the same way that ‘Honeybear’ and ‘Pure Comedy’ did. Then again, there’s something to be said, in 2024, for logging off in favour of self-reflection.

Even if ‘Access All Areas’ doesn’t overwhelmingly herald the return of R&B girl group dominance, the massive momentum FLO have built over the past two years hint that the dam is about to break.

While her words don’t always deliver, ‘Petrichor’ stands best when her emotionality and innovative soundscape take hold.

Three safe, heavyweight singles are backed up by a confusingly hit-and-miss album.