'Cripple Crow' is way too much, in a way we don't get given often enough these days. Take it all in at one sitting and you'll end up bloated. But little and often? It's a cut-and-come-again treat.

An outstanding (dare I say ‘perfect’) debut.

For the most part, though, Diamond’s debut album sparkles. Harnessing heartbreak and combining it with wickedly odd production, ‘Reflections’ is a shimmering collection of unconventional pop songs. After all that speculation, Hannah Diamond is human after all.

Rather than cowering from a tumultuous year full of set-backs, he’s taken the opportunity to deliver a long-awaited, cohesive project built on depth, clarity and nostalgia.

Just as good [as the compilation]. [1 Apr 2006, p.43]

Take note, Mr Paltrow: this is how you do life-affirming.

‘Manic’ is more stylistically diverse, ‘If I Can’t Have Love, I Want Power’ more musically ambitious, but ‘The Great Impersonator’ is Halsey’s most honest album – that is if you choose to believe her.

As much as ‘Something Worth Waiting For’ is a confident, seemingly effortless next step into the musical big leagues, it also feels like a warning from Kapetan to himself: to step off the brakes before the whole beautiful machine that is Friko falls apart.

Royce’s 2018 album ‘Book of Ryan’ was always going to be a tough act to follow, but ‘The Allegory’ stands up as an accomplished body of work, packed full of poetic intricacies and life lessons, soundtracked by the sound of Detroit; it will likely end up on the majority of 2020 end-of-year rap lists.

‘Hellfire’ delivers more musical thrills and about-turns per minute than few other records we’ve heard this year. Sounding more assured of their creative agility than ever before, ‘Hellfire’ is the work of a very special group of alchemists.

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.

A truly special tribute to a wonderful songwriter.

This pared down approach will likely disappoint some fans who hoped to hear final contributions from vocalists Champion, Joba, Merlyn Wood and Dom McLennon. But this is Abstract’s moment to write the final Brockhampton chapter, and it’s heavy on the confessions.

It's still wordier than a second-hand bookshop and the screwy mental tics remain. But it's also one of the most heart-lassoing '70s radio-pop records since the death of flares, its psychedelic oddness leavened with big gnarly hooks, the emotional thwack of a shattered heart and intimate and bloodied narratives.

'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.

Distortion is above cynical reproach--effortlessly modern and definitively 2008, yet flitting with the ghosts of Shields, Madder Rose (ask your 90s alt.indie expert uncle) and The Jesus And Mary Chain.

White Denim (now a four-piece) have never been less than terrific, but as they move further from the garage and embrace their real love – early '70s Americana – they defy all probability.

So Much Fun is a free-spirited record that comes with heavy doses of ridiculousness, but it’s lovably silly, and is a welcome dose of light relief.

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

An enchanting record of twists and turns.

Brothers And Sisters Of The Eternal Son bills itself as a concept album, a road movie with no end, but the songs are tight, the meaning incidental and any big ideas play second fiddle to bewitching tunes and delicate harmonies.

While ‘Pain To Power’ advances the harsh pairing of the saxophone with noise-rock that Maruja have already explored, its standout moments come through expressions of love – fulfilling Wilkinson’s on-stage promise.

Though not quite closure, ‘Lost Wisdom Pt. 2’ is the sound of Mount Eerie reaching clarity.

The record has its flaws – the odd misguided lyric, the occasional slip into by-numbers pop melodies – but there’s plenty of space for those mistakes to be made. ... In the end, they are minor bumps in a record of intense beauty, among the best of the Manics’ records this century.

Familiar emotionally yet revelatory in its execution, the album sees Blake sing about mundane, almost incidental upsets that sting harder than they should. Piercing lyrics are matched by innovative, fearless production.

Named after a fabulist, yes, but still not quite fabulous.

Sweeter than its landfill-conjuring name suggests, Diaper Island supplies the harsh guitar harmonics, reverb and claustrophobic atmosphere VanGaalen does best, but aligns them with some of his prettiest songs.

La Priest, he’s made one of the debuts of the year.

No-one could accuse this Portland trio of skimping on sarcasm--even if it is the kind of sarcasm that dribbles likes a student rallying against capitalism as he pulls in to a McDonald's drive-thru.

This is the unmistakeable sound of a star being born: this is an album with something to say, in a voice all of its own.

The likes of 'Chromakey Dreamcoat' sound like they were made on a potter's wheel rather than an iBook. [15 Oct 2005, p.36]

Even the ticking percussion and trilling synths can't hide the sheer melodic oddness of Gartside's songs. [3 Jun 2006, p.35]

You can hear Badu’s influence across EarthEE, which flows as freely as its predecessor, but is more sonically detailed and rich.

The Membranes’ first album in 26 years is an extraordinary comeback.

Unravelling fresh surprises with each listen, ‘I Love The New Sky’ is the sort of immersive cult-pop experience that should break the ‘trending’ column in its own right.

This album is a quiet triumph, the understated work of an artist honouring herself and her creativity.

One of the most incredible debut albums of the year so far.

A rush job, perhaps, but it’s still the sound of three guys having the time of their lives.

The 11-track collection of lugubrious love songs shows Hawley returning to his smooth ice-cream ad soundtracking roots.

It’s a tightrope across a canyon down which many a pie-eyed baggy daredevil has fallen. Jagwar Ma make it look effortless.

Cash deserves better than this. In fact, he deserves to be left in peace. Some things should just be left alone.

A series of back-to-the-futurescapes that are both lush and subtly unnerving. [29 Jul 2006, p.29]

If the thought of tackling Young's longest ever studio album hasn't scared you off, you must be a fan. In which case, prepare yourself for a treat.

Allowing bonus points for successfully merging personal lyrics and shuffling beats without once evoking lazy trip-hop, she still too often confuses blandness for adult sophistication.

'So ... How's Your Girl?' is precision-tooled to amuse the Beastie Boys, for sure. But it also harbours a wit and dexterity that not only represents the usual cliquey extended family, but also manages to transcend them.

Ultimately, the album is weighed down by its very gentleness. [30 Apr 2005, p.64]

A mid-section of orchestral Bacharach lounge pop, hints of Gorillaz afro-hop on ‘Allweddellau Allweddol’, the glitchy gospel of ‘The Swamp’ and some glacial grandeur on ‘Walk Into The Wilderness’ and 'Year Of The Dog' bring a sense of nobility and glory to the tale of this tribe-hunting madman.

It’s easy to confuse simplicity with triteness, but the pair have a knack for magnetic and clearly considered ditties.

An album that’s packed with dry wit and choppy, off-kilter energy, but one that’s lyrically far better suited to a darker, post-#MeToo world.

Throughout Empress, an eight-track record billed somewhat mysteriously as a “project”, she states her worth over warm, ‘90s-influenced R&B sounds.

The pairing of the gravelly vocals of 21-year-old Maryland rapper Rico Nasty with hyped DJ Kenny Beats’ unique production results in an addictive album.

Sure, it’s not as relentless as 2015’s ‘The Monsanto Years’ – his concept album about the evils of the monolithic, genetically modifying agriculture business – but his commitment to a better way of doing things seeps through each of the 10 songs here.

While the intimacy of the songs makes this a challenging listen, there is a humbling bravery here.

This is a 57-minute flex of every musical muscle in Parker’s body. Crunchy guitars are largely absent, but we’re left with something far more intriguing – a pop record bearing masterful electronic strokes.

While musically not as memorable or gripping as we’ve heard from Simz previously, the stripped-back nature does play to Simz’s strength as a very relatable MC, drawing greater attention instead to her rapid-fire rhymes, earworm hooks and thoughtful turns of phrase.

Another slice of NYC art-punk brilliance that channels their surroundings with an authentic growl.

We may be living in shit times but in ‘Everything Was Forever’, Sea Power have produced an album that is both brutal and beautiful, and which offers us all some much needed hope.

The Sheeran-featuring ‘Peru”s inclusion on the tracklist of ‘Playboy’ is a further nod to his rise. But this album more than demonstrates that its creator is no one-hit wonder.

‘Shapeless’ is an undeniable early-2023 highlight for cutting-edge pop music. But despite Daine’s distinctive songwriting, these 24 minutes feel less like a coherent, narrative body of work than eight new directions.

It’s gratifying to hear Young push her idea of pop beyond the spacey atmospherics of her earlier material – this is the overdue arrival of a completely credible new talent.

Pacing a 15-song LP is no simple task, and ‘This World Fucking Sucks’ can sound uneven. .... The record ends with a showcase of the emotional power of Cassyette’s voice, which still feels like a breath of fresh air in the alternative sphere and will stand her in good stead as she continues to establish her sound.

‘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.

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

Drizzy’s candid lyrics about battered egos and insecure relationships were refreshing early on in his career, but the persona is wearing thin as he recalls how rich his melancholy has made.

It’s a record stuffed with imagination and packed with beauty. It’s also a fitting next step for an artist who’s built her reputation as someone who refuses to keep in step with the rest of the world.

He’s a unique talent, no doubt, and has once again made a work on his terms. It’s at times an exasperating listen, but that’s kind of the point.

While far from a reinvention of the wheel, ‘Power Up’ is a joyous celebration of the unbridled heavy rock that has served them well for almost 50 years and, we can hope, a unifying cry for the future.

Out there, sure--but this is the sort of experimentalism Radiohead scoop plaudits for. [18 Feb 2006, p.35]

Though they've shed the cheap - but undeniably fun - Day-Glo immediacy of 'Fever...', it's been replaced by a range of expressions that most artists will only stumble upon by their fifth release.

This Old Dog is mostly a gorgeous, perfectly paced record for lazy days outside. But every so often a moment of madness slips in, and this gives the Canadian an edge over his peers.

This is an album with much to love about it, but it falls just short of their real game-changer, West Ryder.

Prisoner isn’t quite up to the career-best standards of its predecessors, but it’s a remarkably focused and effective successor nonetheless.

Big GRRRL Small World is a decidedly broader and more mature offering than 'Lizzobangers', and, in terms of Lizzo's long-term appeal, that can only be a good thing.

This is The National back from their brink and at their absolute best.

At times, ‘I’m Only F**king Myself’ feels a little all over the place – though, cramming so many interesting and surprising spins on pop into one record, and largely pulling it off, is still commendable.

This is a lovely record. [12 Mar 2005, p.58]

What it all adds up to isn't big-push psych loonycakes like The Flaming Lips, but something more subtly disorienting.

It may be breathtaking in places, but Flossie's Lungs are just a bit too full of bluster.

Squeaking with the glamour of a rusty gramophone, 'The Rushing Dark' flashes with delicate splendour and, alongside 'Time Is Not', evokes moonlit, cobbled Parisian streets and carafes of elderflower wine.

The lustiness of his Bob-cat yowl on warm and well-weathered numbers such as 'King Of Spain' makes 'The Wild Hunt' a refreshingly clean listen....Ambitious? No. Delicious? Yes.

It's far too early to say whether they will reach the same lofty heights, but there's something of New Order in Hot Chip. There's the same mix of art school-meets-working man demeanour, an unabashed acknowledgement of the debt popular music owes to clubland and a wry lyrical conceit.

With shades of Julia Holter and Poliça, the 12 electro-R&B nocturnes here unfold in shimmers of keyboard, indistinct vocals (most disarmingly on piano jam ‘Broken Blue’) and torrents of existential anguish.

He's made one of the best British albums of the year--that's why he should be feted.

There’s sure to be filler across 25-tracks. However, when Ty is at his best, he soars vocally and continues to prove that he is both a hook and melody juggernaut.

As it is, it’s good, but not as consistently great as we’ve come to expect from him.

Shape Shift With Me is an excellent album, Grace an essential cultural figure.

Dear Annie is a stunning odyssey through hip-hop, R&B, pop and beyond, one that will lend itself to both wintry nights in and blissed-out parties this summer.

There's less space to breathe in 'This Is Not A Test!' than ever before - the beats are so relentless that just like the fiercest of the nu-prog bands it leaves you physically exhausted afterwards.

Ambition, imagination, charm and grace - by any measure, 'About A Boy' hits the heights.

But for every moment where the echoes of what's gone before threaten to engulf them, The Stills have ten more that shrug off the dead weight of their influences and reveal a thick, dark veneer of anguished sincerity.

Blur's most inconsistent and infuriating statement thus far. Infuriating, because divested of four solid-gone clunkers '13' could pass muster as the best of Blur.

Sound[s] like Marvin Gaye fronting The Smiths while the London Philharmonic Orchestra has a stab at the Burt Bacharach songbook. [9 Oct 2004, p.55]

Slowly but surely, they are moving towards something extraordinary.

SPElLLING’s third album is more of a grand statement of organic authenticity. An hour-long double, and far more melodic and accessible than her previous murky menacings.

Their imagery may be impenetrable--all "teardrops on the wires" and particles "falling into space"--but the tunes haunt the mind long after they've faded.

While there’s nothing quite as dynamic as the best work of Shelton’s labelmates Sharon Jones and Charles Bradley, Cold World provides a rousing listen for fans of vintage soul.

Working with producer FaltyDL, who’s credited on every track here, Blanco creates a body of work that feels cohesive but not constricted.

This is one to file alongside 'American Idiot', 'Doolittle' and 'Nevermind' on your greatest US rock albums shelf.