It’s no mean feat that ‘No Gods No Masters’ is not only Garbage’s best album in 20 years – at least – but one that could only have been made now.

So, business as usual then; SFA have made another enormously enjoyable record, but one that is unlikely to ‘do an Elbow’ and suddenly make them a serious mainstream proposition again.

This a forward-thinking, original British album that has captivated a new generation of music fans, not simply by rehashing the old, but by giving the young something that belongs to them and taunting them to do better.

It's full-on rock carnage. [6 Nov 2004, p.59]

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.

These songs contain the record's protest element as well as its exemplary musicality: heartbreaking soul choruses, classical samples and '80s rocksteady rhythms.

His skill rests in the realisation that you can't airbrush soul: so, instead of smoothing rough edges, these cuts of cyborg funk fidget with digital tics and gasps. [11 Jun 2005, p.67]

He’s still twisted, but Khan’s genius has never been more obvious.

Eschewing any grand, overarching statement, The Smile sound – whisper it – quite comfortable within what is now their established aesthetic.

A stunningly original record--harrowing and hilarious in equal amounts. [25 Feb 2006, p.32]

Perhaps ‘Shatter’ is almost too powerful. Once it’s over, the rest of the album feels much more muted – still pretty, still pleasant, still thought-provoking, but like the energy that came before has been spent.

Of all the dead genres, you’d think it would be hard to credibly reinvent blaxplotation-era soul, but The Heavy (who, along with Pop Levi, are heading up Ninja Tunes’ new imprint Counter Records) pull it off explosively well.

For a record just 30 minutes long it feels impossibly epic and for all its scuzzy, lo-fi production, it still sounds fully realised. Not to mention fully brilliant.

Two Suns is epic in scope and ambition and requires a similarly epic patience to unravel its charms.

So, while their Beach Boys on mescaline tricks won't rewrite the rulebook, for reckless frivolity they'll do just fine.

From the get-go, his highly-anticipated debut album delivers exactly what it promises with its stylish, nostalgic artwork: a distinct world filled with hazy strings, warped synths and vocals that range from a flawless ’70s-style falsetto to laid-back speech. It’s retro-inspired through a modern lens.

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.

A common thread can be found in CYRK, Cate's second album: the application of a sincere pop-song sensibility, and a yen for the surreal that sidesteps the zany.

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.

Viola Beach is an album that, against all odds, leaves you with a smile on your face.

Part of this brilliant record’s charm is its potential to be a low-stakes, high-quality one-off – a curio waiting to be discovered somewhere along the way.

In a cleaner, more mature, concerned-about-its-blood-pressure manner, Head Carrier revisits Pixies’ prime, primal age, melodically pumped and squaring up confidently to its admittedly formidable forebears.

As they adopt the very sounds that cultivated them on their come-up, ‘Ghetto Gods’ should mark the start of EarthGang’s ascension to superstardom.

This is an album that sits well alongside classics such as 1987's 'You're Living All Over Me'. In other words: a genuine monster.

CMAT will have you in stitches one second and emotionally suckerpunched the next. It’s brilliant. Inventive, intoxicating, deliciously camp – she continues to transcend all expectations and remains absolutely unmatched.

Fat White Family are a band reborn. ‘Serfs Up!’ is the richest, most accomplished music they’ve ever written.

Combining the band’s slightly sidelined knack for writing huge, immediately memorable pop bangers with the more complex, neurotic lyrical voice of The 1975’s more recent releases, ‘Being Funny In A Foreign Language’ feels like the right next step after pushing experimental excess to its logical conclusion.

What makes it so compelling is the simplicity of concept: like everyone, they get pissed off by jerkish behaviour, subdued by small misfortunes and comfort themselves with life’s small pleasures.

On his Sub Pop debut, he's sliced off the excess, preachy rhetoric for something inventive, bold and brilliantly fresh.

Oasis can't help but sound like a group battling to free themselves from being last century's thing.

Every album is a chapter in Frank’s on-going aural autobiography, and Positive Songs is his Getting Over It dispatch.

As a simple collection of songs, it’s as strong as anything they’ve come up with since 2004’s ‘American Idiot’.

The band now merges genres confidently and coolly, creating carefree indie pop tracks, yet always reserving a seat for their rock band roots.

By freshening up his style without entirely abandoning it, West still has the rest of the rap world playing catch-up.

Allen’s lo-fi production does nothing to dispel the notion that we’re eavesdropping on his innermost thoughts. At a time where many encumber sleepless nights and intense self-reflection, Puma Blue’s debut may well provide a brief moment of relief for those lost in the darkness.

It’s evident the band have begun a new chapter where they appreciate rather than become their influences. They’ve truly 
arrived.

It's expansively, ecstatically excellent for many of the same reasons as The Field's previous two: blissful, loop-based hymns at the intersection between shoegazing, trance and minimal techno.

'Volta' is another amazing statement of intent - full of hope, eccentricity and wonderfulness.

Overall, Painting With is a dizzying, lurid treat, almost too much to take in, craving its natural habitat. And it’ll really come alive out in the wild.

Their determination to not bend to conventional song structure makes Schlagenheim an engaging piece of work that will reveal its true nature over time, perhaps. Black Midi are making music like no other band in the world.

What primarily sets ‘Romance Is Boring’ up as a significant step forward is that it’s incredibly structurally cohesive, and yet blows anything they’ve previously released out of the water in terms of textural intricacy, technical prowess and general experimentation; each track seems to take an element that’s been formerly alluded to and stretch it to a fuller form.

The 13-track album is an absolute riot, falling somewhere between the meticulous dreamy psych-pop production of Tame Impala’s 2015 breakthrough album ‘Currents’ and the loved-up summertime vibes of Tyler, The Creator’s 2017 record ‘Flower Boy’.

A brilliantly inventive record that concludes with a bit of sarky musical theatre (which may be aimed at Adamczewski). Saoudi has hinted that this could be Fat Whites’ final album. If so, they’ve gone out on the most surprising note of all.

He and the four gents in his Revue are here to remind you there's nothing more thrilling than the primal howl of proto-rock'n'roll, and this, their third album, is their most convincing sermon yet.

This time around, though, the band operates with a little more future-facing pride and compulsion. It’s a lesson on how to do it yourself, and do it well. Defiance never sounded so good.

Kiss Land is a fascinating record, Tesfaye defying reservations with the self-absorption of a madman.

A record whose luminous soundscapes are at once alien yet familiar, adding hazy heartbeat rhythms to their seductive take on ambient masters past and present such as Brian Eno, Harmonia and Tim Hecker.

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.

Prepare to lose your heart to him.

Unlike their debut's thrilling-but-ramshackle garage rock, this time round the words are harnessed to the kind of big, bold tunes that will lodge the five-piece in the mainstream consciousness.

Following on from a confusing but rewarding double-disc anthology, 'Rifts', in 2009 and the sublime space scapes of 'Returnal' in 2010, 'Replica' is a rallying call for people who don't see synthesisers purely as objects of retro-fetishism, but rather as agents of future creative potential.

Working Men’s Club certainly wear the trauma well, but this riveting exploration truly thrives by seeking the light beyond the gloom.

Much more than a remix album, then, the sheer invention and thirst to push things forward demands that I<3UQTINVU’ must be considered as an entirely separate, and brilliant, full-length Jockstrap album on its own terms.

Views should be a slog. But remarkably, his signature brand of downbeat introspection remains gripping.

Straightaway, what's so appealing about this album is the double-barrel hellfire tactic the four-piece employ on almost every song.

'Mary Star Of The Sea' has that kind of miracle-working effect: a euphoric and consistent hour of genetically-tweaked stadium rock that re-establishes Billy Corgan as a great, rather than ridiculous, frontman.

The sombre project is blistered and broken in all the right ways. Peep’s legacy of making music that has no purpose other than making itself felt is the glue that holds this sprawling 13-track album together.

They’ve certainly made interesting, bolder leaps than before with this second record. We’re ready to jump in again.

You finish the record hungry for more of these febrile, insistent Kinshasa sounds--and that, surely, is mission accomplished.

Tell Me How You Really Feel is Courtney Barnett at her angriest and most vulnerable, but being a drinker of details means she can also blow the beauty of life’s little things up to full-size.

It’s a record riddled with questions, while refusing to offer answers. In remaining tight-lipped, this taciturn new aspect to Father John Misty might be his most genuinely sincere, and his most profound.

Clearly fed with water from a pool full of wide-reaching influences, Mind Control is a record that reveals more about itself with every listen.

These five tracks climax with ‘Hypnotised’, a solemn country swooner resembling John Lennon’s ‘Mother’, easily their best barnstorming ballad since ‘Fix You’. It’s heartening evidence that Coldplay haven’t entirely been sucked into the machinery while trying to subvert pop music from within.

The live album is built from tracks taken from different shows so doesn’t show off the improvisatory nature of their setlist-free shows, but again, it’s a reminder that their three-year absence is a bit of a tragedy.

'One Part Lullaby' lapses very slightly into generic Barlow-pop two-thirds through, then soon recovers its shimmering grandeur. Sebadoh hardliners will dismiss this record as pop fluff, but few will be listening, too busy hailing The Best Lou Barlow Album In The World... Ever

It takes half a dozen listens before the quality of it really sinks in, and is so all over the place that only the most devoted won't find it initially maddening. But throughout is a braveness and naive sense of wonder.

They were always one of the most metal band of the alt.rock boom that emerged from their Seattle scene in the early 1990’s, but on Rainier Fog; there’s a beauty and an expanse--as well as a major chord or two--that sees the band evolving.

Harcourt... has done the unthinkable: fallen in love with a laydee and made his "happy" album. Luckily for us, it's the best of his career. [11 Sep 2004, p.55]

Try not to grin inanely as the banjo-led big band play "The Bare Necessities," sob to Wilson's lounge lizard harmonies on "When You Wish Upon A Star" or find lions sexy during his restrained "Can You Feel The Love Tonight?"

Rather than sounding like a vintage group struggling to find their identity, though, Swedish House Mafia’s debut album sees the trio flexing their musical and emotional muscles across 17 brilliant, fearless and often surprising tracks. The kings of dance music are very much back.

‘After Hours’ stands as The Weeknd’s strongest record in some time.

At only seven songs, it’s a lot shorter than most sprawling albums put out by their Western counterparts these days, but its concise tracklist leaves no room for filler, no space for even a note to be wasted.

The album’s slower tempo won’t be for everyone: if you’re all thrills, no substance, then maybe this album is not for you. But you have to respect ScHoolboy Q’s dedication to showing us a different outlook on life, and exploring many emotions. Introspective--yes, but these are songs for the summer.

Rossen is a master craftsman--and one of the best songwriters in modern rock--and with Silent Hour/Golden Mile he's set the bar tantalisingly high for Grizzly Bear's return.

Dando’s at it again, with a whole album full of mix-and-match covers which comfortably sit just on the right side of bizarre.

There are plenty of familiar garage-y thrills to be found here, but a new sense of menace too.

This is an album of thoughtful and considered dissent rather than the righteous rage of old.

Suggests even more urgently that that landmark album that's so patently within their grasp is tantalisingly close. This, however, is not it. Not quite. It is still, nevertheless, a quite dazzling album.

Marrying the street level to the grandiose was always the Pet Shop Boys’ MO from the start, and over forty years into the career, ‘Nonetheless’ is the sublime sound of pop’s standard-bearers continuing to hone their craft.

Here, on her most consistent work to date, she’s still dramatic, seductive and theatrical, but fully cut loose. This is Khan’s own heroic moment.

‘Strange Timez’ is yet another worthwhile endeavour, the band keen not just to match the skill and pace of modern pop outlets, but to outlast the competitors. Whether your consumption method was more traditional, or you’re perhaps tempted to binge every episode in this album format, there’s joy aplenty here.

It's the sound of people having fun. [4 Dec 2004, p.55]

Given that it documents a romantic life that’s apparently hurtling out of control, My Mind Makes Noises makes for a remarkably trim and measured collection of songs. Both hands are on the wheel, and this album will crank things up a gear for Pale Waves.

Laid-back and controlled, yet at times almost obsessively moody... [Collisions] hits all the peaks and troughs at just the right frequency. [4 Feb 2006, p.29]

There are only two major mis-steps – ‘Beads On One String’ is the kind of amorphous soft rock balladry that Sting used to make in the ‘90s and Townshend’s easy listening ‘I’ll be Back’ descends into a plain awful vocodered rant. ... But otherwise ‘WHO’ either recaptures the band’s root ferocity or explores new territory with style.

With Here, it feels as though she’s dug deep to produce a set of genuine, heartfelt and relevant anthems.

This record shows that Vile isn’t about to abandon the formula that’s served him so well since he left The War On Drugs over a decade ago. It packs that wholesome, easy charm he’s always held, almost as if the songs fell out of his brain while he was strumming away on his back porch.

A little bit new, but mostly the same, then. The Best Day is the refreshing sound of Moore addressing familiar musical themes with renewed energy.

"Both Ways Open Jaws" is tribal, prickly and wickedly playful.

They imbed stories (thought-provoking, moving or entirely made up) into future-pop bops that are bright and, most importantly, fun.

Interspersed throughout are dark, ambient instrumentals ‘Machine Room’, ‘Aluminum’, ‘Waiting Room’ and ‘Voltage’. This adds an extra layer of claustrophobia and menace, but also feels like the band are padding out a very good eight-track album into 12 songs. Still that’s a minor quibble – as ‘Container’ is a masterful statement of intent destined straight for the top of your lock-down dance party playlist.

Throughout she offers up rich, swirling instrumentals and intricate musical landscapes, crunchy chord progressions and twinkling chromaticism complemented by her confident, warm vocals.

'Masquerade' is a mighty, ego-free album that doesn't need to shout to be heard.

Nailed to the dancefloor by Flea-like bassist Pat Nature, and dragged up to date by hip-hop beats and random electronica, musically Liars are taut as a tightrope.

‘iii’ goes in hardest, taking its cues from the harshest strains of club music, and beckoning in pure, confrontational chaos almost immediately.

It’s an album brimming with audacious leaps, and they land most of them.

The diversity of guest musicians, expertly woven music and compositional strength of the tracks on offer here add up to a journey well worth taking. ‘We Will Always Love You’ completes The Avalanches’ 20-year triptych on a hopeful note.

A sullen and graceful record that brings out the very best of the gruff veteran.