‘Pink Noise’ is steeped in liberation, not bitterness – it isn’t just a heartening comeback, but an absolutely sparkling pop album.

Grid of Points is a seemingly-unfinished bunch of loose ends that somehow appear complete when combined.

Teyana Taylor has finally delivered a record that scratches far beneath the surface of her persona as she triumphantly prioritises herself, from her sexuality to her vulnerabilities. In fact, it feels as though, on ‘The Album’, her vulnerabilities are her biggest source of strength and clarity.

Although Joe has now reverted to the boring D’Agostino, the feral noise-pop his band creates is as vicious as ever.

Gang Gang Dance’s sixth album, just like their previous work, emphasises how there’s a vast world beyond our closest surroundings.

Kiwanuka has brought in the production heft of Danger Mouse, as well as up-and-comer Inflo, to seriously up the ante.

Morrison, Spector, Doherty, Cobain; The Orwells know their roots and they know how that story plays out.

'Source Tags And Codes' comes with an albatross-like weight of expectation round its skinny neck - yet happily, it's supported by a band who have grown to match it.

What it shows is that if you're going to do the hits, the thing to do is pin them down, fuck them up and HURT THEM. [average of scores of 90 for Disc 1 and 70 for Disc 2; 16 Oct 2004, p.48]

The London trio's second full-length is a breakneck, open-eared, positivist post-punk canter.

This is a record that wipes the board clean. It's a record that will invigorate and re-energise.

Recounting the happier memories of her relationship often results in the album’s lightest moments: it’s here where synths soar and possibilities seem endless. Elsewhere, Scott employs some of her most evocative lyrics yet.

Stuffed with fizzing hooks and brilliantly frank lyrics, Almost Free could be FIDLAR’s best record yet. A blistering collection of eclectic tunes threaded together by punks’ fearless riffs and unguarded admissions, which add even more weight to their sound, it’s a reminder of how much we’ve missed them. Welcome back, lads.

Album three is CHAI’s smoothest record to date.

O’Brien’s personality shines through, and it’s a pleasure to get to know him. It’s tempting to conclude he’s Radiohead’s secret weapon.

‘Amends’ is a powerful record that offers comfort, motivation and a sense of belonging.

‘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.

There’s a lot to love about music that’s as head over heels in love with youth as Soft Will is.

After pouring her darkest moments into ‘Magdalene’, this varied and playful mixtape represents a moment of release, though it remains to be seen whether Barnett will head further into this direction, or enter a new album era recharged.

Recall[s] dance music's pre-superclub adventures in electronica and bleepy house. [19 Mar 2005, p.59]

As the new face of drill music, “from Bush to Beverley Hills”, ‘23’ shows that Cench repeatedly proves his worth and as his talent continues to blossom.

A masterclass in why Galaxie were such a great band. [18 Feb 2006, p.36]

Sounds like a man freed from the shackles of history. [22 Jul 2006, p.31]

Come the closing ‘Nocturne’, Bradford is wailing into a malfunctioning microphone like the late, great Mark Linkous of Sparklehorse phoning a wasted lullaby home with one unreliable bar of phone coverage, and ‘…Disappeared?’ becomes less Cox’s ‘High Violet’, more his ‘Low’. This is how you turn pop into art.

From their pen through to their sound, ‘Here Is Everything’ is emotive and glossy; one that gives space to breathe in this busy world.

Another gem in First Aid Kit’s consistently good arsenal of timeless, harmony-rich roots music.

As ever, The Hold Steady achieve their best work when their playing is loose. When the songs are filtered through the bottom of a shot glass. When they sound like the best bar band in the best bar you didn’t know about until the moment that you found yourself in it at 3am in the morning. On the basis of ‘Thrashing Thru The Passion’, that band are back.

Here, on their fifth album, the Brooklyn trio sound emboldened, finding room for horn sections and plaintive piano lines amid the murk.

Like all the great British pop records of the past five years, Devotion combines the present and the past to make a record that sounds both contemporary and timeless.

Saturn is full of beautiful, intricately unique songs that could never be imitated.

But, bar the turgid swamp blues of ‘Be Careful What You Wish For’, it’s Noel’s freewheeling solo freedom and return-to-mega-form song-writing that makes this amongst the albums of the year.

He keeps growing musically, challenging what drill music can be. On ‘Noughty By Nature’, he confirms he’s a genre juggernaut, but in wearing his heart a little more on his sleeve, he’s also evolving right in front of us.

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

An album full of big ideas, strong conviction and unguarded emotion, it’s more than worth the wait.

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.

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.

The abrasion and urgency of their sound remains, but magnified, as they explore new territory.

A stern but playful combination of caustic menace and bright hooks.

The second album from this perky Philadelphia quartet delivers big on drama and emotion with Frances Quinlan’s voice taking turns between an abrasive snarl and a smooth croon.

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.

If ‘This Is Happening’ must be a parting shot from this smartest and most human of dance machines, it’s a fine one. Though by LCD’s own standards this takes second place to ‘Sound Of Silver’’s unquestionable gold medal, by any other current band’s measure this is an all-out classic.

Gloss Drop is powered by a tireless, ingenious sense of play. Admittedly, it is sometimes the sort of playfulness displayed by quantum physicists and pure mathematicians. But hey, get the numbers right and everything else just slots into place.

Although the record is vivid, striking and thought-provoking – with nearly every song on this album a deep, pensive sonic sulk – the south Londoner’s voice is beginning to slip further away from a generation he intended to represent: one that’s done overthinking and just wanting to feel.

It’s a record that – while injected with a healthy dose of groovy fun – is keenly honest. And although it may be sonically sugar-coated, Wolf’s candid lyrics never are. It’s funk-fuelled catharsis.

A debut offering of preposterously ace swoon-pop. [6 Aug 2005, p.56]

‘Shlon’ allows Souleyman to lift the curtain into his culture, showing his artistry and why exactly he’s one of the most sought-after producers in the world. To pigeonhole him as a wedding singer is reductive.

Produced by Boyz Noize, this is the sound of a rook shuffling with a maverick king, full of harpsichords and pianos and sexy European beats; it will arouse the mind and stimulate interesting positions.

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’.

No Geography is another leap forward for the pair--it embraces new avenues of discovery and nods to the wider world, while having the feel of a victory lap and retrospective.

It's a substantial and rewarding work.

It may have taken six years, but ‘Dopamine’ sounds like the (damn) album Normani was meant to make all long.

If you want it to be, it's brilliant. It's also a record so ambitious, so angry, and so mad-as-a-goose that there are otherwise intelligent people who will hear it once and straight away deem it an interminable racket. [30 Apr 2005, p.61]

There’s impressive variety contained within ‘Dead Dads Club’ too. ‘Volatile Child’’s direct indie hooks throw back to the melodic smarts of early-Strokes; ‘Junkyard Radiator’ arrives woozy and disoriented in a drug-addled, psych-tinged haze, while ‘Need You So Bad’ rings with a gentle kind of euphoria.

Her wildcard authenticity and fiery free spirit is the reason all eyes are on her now.

Anne-Marie’s bold personality is finally given a chance to shine on a no-nonsense album that’s overflowing with chart-busting tunes and real world attitude.

It works in the same way that Doves' 'Lost Souls' did; that is, by inviting us to bed down in its sumptuously familiar lyrical folds while offering us a warm mug of Something A Bit Different.

Loud, weighty but oddly civilised.

Across the whole record, there's a kind of galactic atmosphere that gives everything an spacey edge.

In among the usual awkward, bad sex and sharp-yet-jaundiced eye on what others settle for, there's something unusual for this pair: hope. [12 Nov 2005, p.45]

From the mesmerising opener ‘Try Me’ to ‘Little Things’, a nod to UK funky that has potential to rival ‘On My Mind’ for her biggest dancefloor heater, ‘Falling or Flying’ reveals itself much like Solange’s 2019 album ‘When I Get Home’: an uncompromising and arresting treasure of a record.

Jockstrap sound like nobody else at the moment, and they’ve barely started.

For ‘Big Joanie’ to musically expand this thoroughly yet retain the core of their appeal and singular brilliance on ‘Back Home’ feels remarkable, and you get a sense that it’s far from a final form for the band.

Last retains the intimacy of their previous recordings, but it's augmented with more orchestral flourishes.

As Post tries new sounds on for size, some git better than others. Sometime it feels as though he’s still trying to figure this out as he goes. But it’s when he keeps things simple and goes beyond the clichés that he feels most like himself. ... Hollywood’s Bleeding is a playlist made for these times. It’s going to be huge.

Fans of ‘Giving the World Away’ might be disappointed to find that she’s retreated, somewhat, from the ambition and sonic diversity of that release. This kind of sound, though, is what Pilbeam does best; she doesn’t just ape her influences, but channels them with nuance and empathy.

‘Fuse’, their first album since 1999, is precisely that: the blueprint for any alt-leaning electronic act in the pop space.

Personal yet relatable pop music that makes itself heard thanks to its intricacies, ‘& The Charm’ is a remarkable evolution.

‘Cheater’ is one hell of a trip with a rare band who are singularly themselves. No-one else could do what Pom Poko do.

Quite frankly, after just one listen to Promises Promises, Die! Die! Die! could set fire to our first born and we’d still be staring at them in doe-eyed wonder. Cold showers necessary.

This record is a striking reminder of why Shygirl is one of the capital’s brightest talents.

Patience proved a virtue and ‘Blue Rev’ stands as an ode to continuing to evolve despite obstacles, slowly honing and tweaking your craft, and keeping on moving. It’s another total delight from the Canadians.

From thunderous Mafioso fable 'Live To Die' to A$AP Rocky-starring calypso riot 'I Got Money' via Snoop Dogg collab '1,2 1,2', the Chef's steely signature East Coast flow has seldom sounded more imperious.

There's a new depth to the murderous lyricism here that discounts any possibility he's renounced violence. [12 Mar 2005, p.58]

These ideas of acceptance, hope and personal reflection make The Rip Tide an accomplished, restrained record, which sees Condon forgetting his travels, and forging his own native sound.

This catchy and characterful album already feels like a job well done. When this girl’s having fun, we are too.

A collection of tangible emotional snapshots, brief but telling entries in a musical journal.

Similarities to She And Him abound, but minus Zooey's showtune splendour, the vulnerability in Caitlin's voice chimes as true as the clink of a quarter in an old jukebox.

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 Voidz and Julian might not be the most predictable band to pin down, but there are at least some things that we’ve come to expect from them: whatever they do will be interesting, unusual and thought-provoking. On Virtue, they’ve hit the jackpot with a bonus ball--fun.

From a less skilled artist, such a disparate-sounding album might morph into a collage of loose touchstones. Hayley Williams, on the other hand, draws clearly from other artists but retains her voice at the centre. Her frankness cuts through across Petals For Armor.

The four piece’s debut album is a grubby, clattering thing that takes its lead from 1980s LA punk trailblazers like X and The Gun Club, who took traditional country music and fed it moonshine until it fell down in a ditch, then scraped the mud off its jeans, handed it a microphone and a broken electric guitar and made it walk through broken glass to sing in a grotty toilet venue bar over a broken PA system.

The Chemistry Of Common Life finally proves that rather than being a messy gimmick, Fucked Up are a startlingly talented punk rock band.

A record that beautifully articulates the giddiness of love, ‘Forevher’ subtly queers up the love song in its most timeless form.

Their first two albums, 'Checkmate Savage' (2009) and 'The Wants' (2011), pulled together elements as diverse as krautrock, campfire sing-songs and pure, pulsing pop. Strange Friend is all this and more.

Written in the patient gaze of parenting for similarly patient ears, ‘The Dream Of Delphi’ is by no means as immediate as her previous work. With it, Khan has pieced an intuitive scrapbook of first-time motherhood and, with the turn of every page, uncovers chapters of potential in who her daughter may become. It is a symbiotic symphony to unlocking unknown parameters of love.

More adventurous and free-spirited than the Warpaint of before, but retaining the laid-back DNA at their core. For once, Warpaint sound like they’re having fun--and it suits them.

One of the best British rock albums of the year so far.

Melding intriguing lore with a provocative (and sometimes crass) take on feminist politics elevates the album into more interesting territory than mere revivalism.

With Daughter's second album, she's more poignantly present than ever and her suffering is an emotional exorcism we can all find strength in.

It’s still a lot like getting hammered in the skull for an hour, but Wrath allows enough range between the power-chug of ‘Grace’ and the forbidding rumblings of ‘Reclamation’ to lift them a long way out of the pits of hell.

Even on tracks where celestial melody and light shatter the swirling fug of riffs – making Barn Owl sound more like a whacked-out Dead Meadow – the mood within is h-e-a-v-y like a bewitching series of black metal incantations

What’s most pleasing about this ‘…Mirror’ is that it reflects the original’s dark, experimental essence. It’s heartening to hear that, more than 50 years on, ‘The Velvet Underground & Nico’ has similarly venturous and intrepid descendants who still nurture its spirit.

Flitting between ambient sequences and army-of-guitars maelstroms, this 71-minute magnum opus was recorded in Berlin and Iceland, but loaded with rampant Anglophilia, evident in a Joy Division homage and John Lennon interview clips.

Warp & Aphex’s age of electro may have passed, and some tricks here that were once jarring now seem familiar, but their prickly oeuvre of tantalising possibility still feeds the imagination.

Lone coats everything in the same Orbital-esque melodies that made 2012’s 'Galaxy Garden' such a winner, producing an album that is both intriguingly new and gorgeously listenable.

‘In This City They Call You Love’ doesn’t falter for its lack of invention; there is just a feeling that these sonic quirks can be pushed even further, made even bolder. But as the soulful, breathtaking inner-city vignette ‘People’ shows, he clearly remains focused on the next great song he hasn’t written yet.

An album awash with pretty ambiguities and difficult twists.

Shellac's Bob Weston throws disorientating tape-loop curveballs throughout, further disturbing Burma's thrilling clatter, which shames bands half their age.