20 tracks long, ‘Couldn’t Wait To Tell You’ is sleeker than the artist’s previous releases, but just as challenging and expectation-defying.

This isn’t merely a record by a good band. This is a record by an important one that is now teetering on the edge of greatness.

‘Edna’ is proof that he’s the unmistakeable, global ‘King of drill’, and much more besides.

In standing mostly still, Travis have found contemporary eddies swirling around them.

‘As Long As You Are’ maybe an unexpected handbrake turn for Future Islands and it may not be as hit-laden as its predecessor, but it’s a refreshing record in its own right and one that throws up plenty of existential quandaries.

As a whole, the album is confirmation of two young artists at the top of their game, watching the landscape unfold from the throne they earned themselves four years ago.

‘CMFT’ isn’t the most profound or intense album Taylor has put his hand to, but it’s certainly the most fun. He sounds in love with life, a man finally free of his darkness.

It’s a solid enough debut that really comes to life when the band don’t play it safe. However, lacking the star power that’s expected from musicians like these (you’d never know who was in this band without being told) it’s little more than the soundtrack to a great Friday night down the local boozer.

The result: essential listening for members of the Lambily – Carey’s famously loyal fanbase – and an intriguing, sometimes fascinating artefact for everyone else.

There are some misfires here and there. ‘Escape’, which details trying to get away from the never-ending plod of everyday life, is so understated that it fails to make an impression. ‘Here I Am’, meanwhile, has the opposite problem – overcooking itself at points into OTT theatrics. Those missteps aside, ‘Melanie C’ is an invigorating, uplifting record.

From the rebellious energy that dances across the album to the twelve-minute shape-shifting epic of ‘Angel’ that closes out the record with giddy excitement, Working Men’s Club don’t know how to be boring.

‘Shamir’ is the sound of a consistently evolving artist reclaiming their path and making the music they want to make. His seventh, self-titled album is the sound of an artist who’s finally found his musical home.

Gorgeous closers ‘Grenade’ and ‘Beautiful Boy’ run the risk of ending proceedings on the glacial landscape that you’d expect from Sigur Ros, but there’s enough of a futuristic sheen and optimistic vibe to keep it feeling fresh and make you wanna dive back in for more.

‘Free Love’ sounds like a tug of war exertion without the fun, satisfying results of albums past.

Boisterous, full of sincerity and exciting enough to make you jump on a table in the middle of a board meeting, ‘Tickets To My Downfall’ is an album that not only proves MGK can do whatever the hell he likes, but that also maybe pop-punk still has something important to offer the world.

During the album’s second half, the energy increases even further as Murphy and Sheffield-based collaborator Crooked Man (aka DJ Parrot) throw the party of a lifetime.

With each song so different to the last, ‘Renegade Breakdown’ is one of those rare records that will have listeners discovering new intricacies on each listen.

‘What You Gonna Do When The Grid Goes Down?’ is Public Enemy’s best effort since 1998’s ‘He Got Game’.

A smooth gear shift from 2013’s ‘The Best Day’ and 2018’s ‘Rock and Roll Consciousness’, ‘By The Fire’ manages to stand out with ease. Here Moore elegantly channels his sense of poise and calm in a word going to shit, easily proving why he remains a hero in the world of alt rock.

It’s maturer in sound and ideas, but retains all the hallmarks of what made Fleet Foxes so great in the first place: rich and studied folk compositions, unrivalled harmonies, stories that strike to the core of nature and human existence, and a dedication to art that emotionally lifts you off this planet.

It is wonderful to once again hear a Deftones record as heavy as molten lead, as furious as an enraged honey badger.

Alongside stripped-back, warm and hazy versions of the always powerful ‘Ohio’, ‘Alabama’ and ‘Southern Man’, Young’s new take on 1977’s ‘Campaigner’ hits especially hard.

Anxious instrumentals echo the album’s uneasy outlook and fear of the future, and when they combine forces it often makes for an astonishing listen.

A smattering of other tracks aside (including the lush groove of ‘Getting Closer’ and the funk-jazz fanfare of ‘Love Is Everywhere’), this collection doesn’t fully provide catharsis nor connection.

This record fuses the first album’s goofy sense of humour with ‘Joy…’’s brazen manifesto for a healthier society. Despite their imperfections and the often justified criticism, IDLES are ultimately a good thing. The band want to take you on a trip and for you to enjoy the ride, and for the destination to be serene. Hold on tight.

He’s managed to morph his frustrations of the world into engaging and frantic material that packs serious spirit. Yet another album we’ll have to wait to see live.

Aside from some uninspired, though pretty acoustica (‘Someone Else’s Trees’, ‘Laundry And Jet Lag’), ‘BREACH’ is a stellar progression overall. Lily’s lurch to zestier compositions is a welcome divergence.

This is an album that shimmers with warmth and cautious optimism from start to finish.

Tinny edges became velvet borders, vintage synths took on new wave flavours and plush theatricality beckoned. ‘Host’, however, marks their emergence from their pupae stage.

Yusuf now far more believably inhabiting the role of the kindly dad offering his offspring life advice, while ‘On The Road To Find Out’ showcases the most impressive transformation, weaving in North African desert sounds against steadfast lyrics of self-discovery. It suggests that Yusuf has now finally found just what he was looking for all those years ago.

It’s a diverse collection to keep you on your toes.

A record that otherwise skids wildly across art-rock history leaving steaming tyre tracks in its wake.

Fearless in their desire to break out of any pigeonholes but smart enough to play to their strengths, Haiku Hands’ self-titled debut does good on all that live promise and takes on new challenges as the trio adapt to the world around them.

If ‘Re-Animator’ felt like it was lacking the kind of knockout blow that Everything Everything have provided on every album, they saved it until last. Recent single and album closer ‘Violent Sun’ is the biggest revelation here. You could mistake its opening seconds of The Boss’ ‘Dancing In The Dark’, or its propulsive surge of drums and synths for New Order.

While chaos and confusion may surround us, Manson’s response this time is a dose of respite, mercy, clarity and his most human work so far.

‘American Head’ is a soft, reflective moment of taking in and appreciating the vista once the trip has worn off – when king’s heads and evil pink robots have melted away – and the dust has settled.

It may have taken over a decade for Doves to pour their souls into ‘The Universal Want’ but if it turns out to be their final transmission, it will be a worthy closing chapter to their epic legacy.

Although it can be overblown, Sean’s passion is unreserved here, the record peppered with Instagram-worthy captions that urge listeners to take inspiration from their surroundings while keeping friends and family close.

It hasn’t completely reinvented the wheel for Hurts, nor has it allowed them to rest on old habits. Instead, it presents them at their most open – and in age of isolation, there’s much to admire in that.

The 21-year-old might be trying to shake off any unwieldy labels from critics this time around, but he’s doing so in electric, entertaining and thought-provoking form. Climb aboard McKenna’s space shuttle, and let him transport you to a place where dancing and getting deep are equally encouraged.

‘Gold Record’ finds him ploughing firmly against the grain. As the wider world collapses all around him, the prolific singer-songwriter has released the warmest, wittiest and most comforting work of his career.

Part Brooklyn-punk, part folk-troubadour, ‘The Baby’ marks the coming-of-age of an intriguing songwriter, who isn’t afraid to take on the anxieties and uncertainties that keep you awake in the small hours.

A charged effort with dynamic results, ‘Karma 3’ may not be as flawless a spectacle as ‘Survival’, but it’s not all that far off. And it’s definitely the best entry in the ‘Karma’ series. East remains consistent, unapologetically flying the flag for New York hip-hop.

It was a savvy decision to recruit The Blessed Madonna: the result is a collection exciting, genre-splicing remixes that you could genuinely imagine hearing in the club. It may not have been the album celebration Lipa was planning, but ‘Club Future Nostalgia’ feels like a party all the same.

This collection encouraged them to follow their instincts and embrace the melodies, choruses and beats that arrived the fastest. The result is brilliant, bruising dance music right from the gut.

The largely well-executed ‘SuperGood’ provides enough evidence to suggest he’s en route to bigger and better things.

It isn’t even that the songs are bad – it’s worse than that: they’re largely forgettable. Gone are the pithy couplets and catchier-than-a-rash hooks, replaced with lacklustre imitations.

By marrying their fun-lovin’ musicality with songs that stand up to injustices, Dream Nails rollicking debut will rattle around your head for days on end – for more reason than one.

Here The Magic Gang have acted on pure instinct and feeling. This is an album that, despite its recognition of the downside of things, ends up as a more reassuring – and more real – listen than their debut. With its collage of genres and refusal to co-opt modern trends, album two finds the band moving towards something timeless.

‘Use Me’ is the sound of an artist flexing her muscles, making sense of and peace with her past and, most importantly, embracing a new future.

If ‘All Mirrors’ took you to a lavish, creaky ballroom, then ‘Whole New Mess’ tucks you away in the cupboard under the stairs, the door slammed tightly shut.

By allowing her songs to breathe, leaving space for contemplation, ‘Inner Song’ is a perfectly-arranged album where each track has a part to play: an emotive-yet-euphoric collection that’s made for late-night reflection, Kelly Lee Owens has made one of the most beautiful records of the year.

Though often overpowering and, by the end of the record, a little wearing, this palette provides a consistent buoyancy and energy – and there are plenty of times when The Maytals turn it to their advantage.

The album is stuffed with this kind of lyrical proficiency, which demands high levels of dissection. ‘King’s Disease’ is an acutely perceptive and culturally relevant body of work that finds its author willing to try out new ideas. There’s a genuine conversation to be had about whether it’s the best rap album of the year so far.

‘In Sickness & In Flames’ is a defining work that showcases a sonic universe, rather than a structured set of songs, expertly capturing the inescapable tension of 2020.

‘Blush’ shows the work of a songwriter who, even as something of a rookie, can command your attention and emotions with the most effortless of lines and make you consider your own life and relationships with the gentle encouragement of a close friend. Hold ‘Blush’ close – it’s a special one.

The track list lurches, rather than blends seamlessly, and on the spacey ‘This World’ she plays with an atonal vocal line (and the admittedly great lyric “you little prick – what do you know?”) that typifies her preference for experimentalism over accessibility. Even so, Moolchan remains as singular – and sophisticated – as ever.

‘Source’ is a reflection of Nubya Garcia’s hometown; a mirror spotlighting London’s skilled musicians and a reminder of how thrilling this scene can be. The project’s urgency is baked in calming undertones, forcing listeners to be meditative and to connect, and a sense of rejuvenation, providing a call towards a larger sense of community.

‘SUGAREGG’ is confident and assured.

As with the best of Bright Eyes, there’s a bittersweet meeting of macabre words and folky tunefulness.

The ideas in ‘Songs For The General Public’ are rich, creative and often funny, but its musical staying power is lacking.

The Killers have made another dazzling statement of ultra-modern pomp, and one arguably even more in step with new generations of alt-rock. It’s a musical DeLorean: rooted in mainstream Americana but speeding into adventurous horizons.

It’s admirable to see him balance his signature sound with hints of exploration in collaborations such as ‘Monsters You Made’, all while remaining true to his mother tongue.

There are many marvellous things about Orville Peck’s new six track EP, ‘Show Pony’, which shimmers as brightly as a cowboy’s pair of freshly polished spurs.

Comprising of 14 scorching, razor-sharp vignettes – some scarcely a minute long – this is the sound of a songwriter standing on the top of their mountain, chest puffed-out and giving it the biggun’. Those confrontational moments are spiky and fun.

On her second album, Kiesza has defied the odds and made a solid comeback to the pop world. ‘Crave’ is a very promising – and very fun – hint at even bigger and better things to come.

The result, the 11-track ‘A Celebration Of Endings’, is the band’s most concisely satisfying audio adventure since 2009’s ‘Only Revolutions’.

‘Open Up Your Head’ is an accomplished debut that takes Sea Girls’ brand of indie-rock on countless new adventures, and leaves plenty of doors ajar for further exploration for a genre in dire need of a kick up the backside.

It’s a deft, heartfelt and above all personal record that pays fitting tribute to Jara’s immense legacy, all the while providing a platform for some of Bradfield’s finest songwriting in recent years.

These songs, Molina’s living animals, continue to make their way through the world, ensuring that their creator’s legacy lives on.

An album that’s ready to fall head over heels at a moment’s notice. It’s hard not to get caught up in his absolute lust for life.

It quickly grows dreary when there’s not a knowing smirk to match the intensity.

When the band aren’t flexing their muscles on arena-sized rock soundscapes, they prove themselves nimble and dexterous.

This record heralds her as one of the most enticing acts in R&B’s contemporary canon, near-guaranteed to become a bonafide star in her own right.

It’s a sun-drenched record of summer tunes that will sound even better when heard at festivals with a tinnie in hand. Yet look behind glittering shells of these tunes and you’ll find hugely personal stories, told with new strength and resilience.

This is an album that can and should be enjoyed without over-thinking.

You’ll be hard-pressed to find a more hook-laden and enjoyable catalogue of breakdowns and anxieties this year – this is arguably the definitive 2020 album.

Fans of their debut won’t be surprised by anything on here, but Kllo’s dexterous variations on a theme should win them over regardless.

While it’ll take more than four songs for any veritable flashlight to irradiate Skullcrusher as the answer, this EP will at least start us asking the question.

Although ‘B7’ could probably benefit from an injection of tempo from time to time, as well as a little trimming – the granular ‘High Heels’, where Brandy raps under her Bran’Nu alias, disrupts the album’s more refined moments – it mostly thrives, thanks to her unwavering resilience, the unique texture of her vocals and the stellar production courtesy of DJ Camper, Lonnie Smalls II and the late LaShawn Daniels.

A departure from their scrappy origins, this record is a big, grown-up collection of forward-thinking rock gems. Sure, it might not be as chaotic or feel as grimy as what’s come before, but it’s a deliberately larger-than-life affair.

‘Such Pretty Forks…’ might not be flawless, but in that way, it’s true to Morissette’s depiction of life – something that’s often messy and tough, but worth sticking with.

As well as weighty statements, there is a sense of closure here.

A brave, ambitious and nuanced album that looks to lead the band’s fans down the rabbit hole on a new, macabre adventure. Turning their backs on their punk roots was a gamble, but it’s paid off.

It’s not something you’ll be hankering to press play on repeatedly. Not that it’s bad music: excuse the pretension, but it really is an experience; one that would lend itself better to accompanying Jaar’s physical art installations than a standard album listen.

In aiming to examine the self rather than please others, Fontaines D.C. have exerted a knack for writing anthems that are at once self-excoriating and intimately relatable.

‘Free I.H.’ is a wild ride of cathartic outpourings, big declarations and the freedom to do whatever they want. Weighed down by the struggle but relishing their victory, it’s a record that offers conflict and comfort.

‘Folklore’ feels fresh, forward-thinking and, most of all, honest. The glossy production she’s lent on for the past half-decade is cast aside for simpler, softer melodies and wistful instrumentation. It’s the sound of an artist who’s bored of calculated releases and wanted to try something different.

Throughout the five tracks, Walker’s lyrics never feel anthemic. Rather, they are personal, almost as if she’s right there with you. Her words are a balm: comforting advice of an old friend through a Zoom call.

Musing on the break-up of a nine-year-long romantic relationship, simplicity is key to ‘Old Flowers’’ innate grace.

While they’re not bringing anything musically innovative to the table, they’ve re-packaged the sounds in a way that feels distinctly 21st Century. It’s extremely good fun and presented without pretence – and that feels like enough.

‘Pain Olympics’ is a disturbing, joyous, cataclysmic listen that travels from claustrophobia and fear into wide-eyed expressions of joy.

‘Love + Light’ feels like it soundtracks your entire night out – from your first steps into the club to arriving home after hours of raving.

This is arguably Cocker’s best work since Pulp’s 1998 comedown record ‘This Is Hardcore’ and certainly a greatly promising start to his new chapter. Cocker remains in an entirely different class.

‘Lianne La Havas’ is a far more cohesive record than any of its predecessors, focused around a primary nucleus of intimate vocals, nimble guitar-work and driving percussion.

The first quarter of the album is a soothing ode to an immense talent gone too soon. But soon the record starts to sprawl and spiral.

The Ghost Inside’s self-titled, fifth album is a towering statement of positivity, transforming pain into catharsis, determination and hope.

By spotlighting upcoming artists alongside established names, 100 Gecs give an IRL boost to their ever-expanding community of internet collaborators on ‘1000 Gecs & the Tree of Clues’ while providing an exhilarating snapshot of pop’s alternative future.