It’s the work of a group who’ve managed to grow up without losing their spark. On ‘Selling A Vibe’, the trio are still finding new ways to sound like The Cribs – and that’s a more impressive and unusual feat than it might first appear.

For all the music's cagey intelligence, Drake sounds like the kind of guy who comes sauntering out the traps in a 100m race and immediately breaks out into a victory lap, pausing only to remonstrate with hecklers.

Raw melody made Unknown Mortal Orchestra exciting two years ago; now they’ve matched it with attention to detail.

This madcap might raise the occasional laugh, but inside he’s crying, and for all your voyeuristic unease, you won’t be able to look away.

Far from bad... but so much of it sounds like a museum piece, the glum-pop self-harmings of another time. [12 Nov 2005, p.45]

Where 'Songs For The Deaf' was about jumping up and down until your eardrums burst, 'Lullabies To Paralyze' will use its enigmatic mysticism to lull you into a blissful daze so you don't at first notice that the riffs have broken your neck. [12 Mar 2005, p.55]

She’s reminded us exactly why she’s important: she’s a hyper-intuitive artist with a mongrel sensibility who bows to no one.

A good album, in a well-produced way, but it's not as good or as important as it thinks it is. [24 Jun 2006, p.43]

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.

Prepare to lose your heart to him.

Not be the most inspiring stuff, perhaps, but it is bloody good fun.

Overall, ‘I Told Them’ is not only more memorable and focused than its expansive predecessor, but it’s his strongest album yet.

All pastel tones and carefree (minutely detailed) complexity. [5 Mar 2005, p.51]

A direct continuation of the Gaslight man’s Americana-driven Horrible Crowes side project of 2011, only imbued with more confidence.

Vocal-free, Chance Of Rain sees Laurel Halo once more stepping back behind the sounds of her machines, but it’s the depth of those sounds that speaks volumes.

The album deviates from their previous alt-folkish sensibilities: the fuzzed-up shoegazing of ‘Things’ and the anthemic chorus of ‘Living In Colour’ herald an exciting new bullshit-free dawn.

This is about as close to a bid for mainstream acceptance as you're going to get from Bright Eyes.

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.

With their third album, Nation Of Language prove their able to stretch their auditory imagination, all while sticking to their roots. In just 10 quick tracks, the NYC band demonstrate that their reminiscent sound has always been more about the future than the past.

The Adams of ‘Love Is Hell’ has gone out to make an album that actually is classic rock ‘n’ roll rather than one that can simply impersonate it, and sound convincing. [Review applicable to both Part 1 and Part 2]

Thankfully lacking the comedy ska bletherings of their last two albums, this is certainly fast and furious and, where once they seduced the charts with songwriting, now they want to bludgeon with hardcore muscle.

This is happy music for hard times, a ray of warm and righteous sunshine just when it was needed most.

It would have been easy for Courting to play it safe on ‘Guitar Music’, but by challenging both themselves and their scene, they’ve guaranteed longevity and arrived with one of the year’s greatest debuts.

Though ‘Special’ clocks in at a brisk 35 minutes, it succeeds in capturing all facets of Lizzo’s megawatt personality.

It emboldens its listener to feel power in confronting the uncomfortable feelings, and encourages them to absorb every emotion along the journey. It is a shining glimmer of hope in a room full of sorrow, and another string to their ever-growing bow.

Superb stuff. [23 Sep 2006, p.33]

Though there is plenty of positive change across ‘Surviving’, it’s clear that their strengths still lie as a fists-in-the-air rock band; the monumental ‘One Mil’ shows this best.f hope and rebirth in their own way, digging as deep as Adkins himself is.

Fans of Animal Collective will be familiar with the expressive freak-out moments here, but Akron/Family are secretly far more at home nestled somewhere between Fleet Foxes and Led Zep in your collection.

'Poker Face,' pretty much the one song 2009 will be remembered for, are included on the original album, this becomes essential for anyone who even remotely likes pop. For the rest of us, it's the moment Gaga cements herself as a real star.

A masterpiece.

In less dexterous hands, of course, this could--and most likely would--be a disaster, but Darnielle's lyrical prowess and songwriting nous ensures he just about gets away with it.

O’Neill’s sixth sounds both settled and intensely familiar, with the sense little time has passed since 2009’s ‘A Ways Away’.

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.

Foreign Body crawls under the skin and stubbornly lodges itself there.

Six years in the making, Mew's sixth album is opulence in excelsis, the Danish dream-weavers gathering all the synths and power chords at their disposal to conjure a feast for the ears.

The intricacies and experimentalism of those math-rock early days, the spacey ambience of ‘Total Life Forever’, and the bolshy production brilliance of those last two records: it’s all here.

This long-awaited personal and artistic rebirth is channeled through unashamed euphoria on album highlights ‘Look At The Sky’ and ‘Something Comforting’ – two of the most uplifting yet tear-jerking songs you’re likely to hear this year.

For someone who helped to invent modern metal, he’s held a stunning number of surprises up his cloak sleeve (see: a wildly successful solo career and genre-defining reality TV show). This rollicking album is yet another.

The album is a masterful psychedelic patchwork, bouncing between eerie soundscapes (opener ‘Fuck Your Acid Trip’), knotty post-punk (‘Walking And Running’) and maximalist pop melody (the ludicrously good fun ‘The Sun Hasn’t left’).

By teaming up with Godrich, McCartney has come out of his safety zone and challenged himself in a way not seen since his first solo album way back in 1970. But the feeling remains that the one person who could really inspire him to write one final classic record was tragically murdered in 1980.

Maybe Beth Orton, unlike some of her still-desperate-for-kudos contemporaries, is merely growing old gracefully, but clearly gracefully aging doesn't necessarily make for great records.

It’s so different from the rest of the music he has been putting out, and Young Thug shows that he can make hits can transcend the rap world. Many say Young Thug is one of the greatest musicians of the current generation, and with ‘Punk’, he’s proved that to be true.

An elongated, yet joyous return from J Hus. Splintering the sonics between drill, dancehall, Afrobeat and hip-hop, he allows himself to explore more musical terrain than ever before, while the rapper channels his lyrical potency, struggles and romantic pursuits into one unified portrait.

The production trickery, paired with Allison’s lyrical nuances, make her songwriting, and this debut record, a dazzling and devastating triumph.

Call The Comet is Marr’s most assured solo effort to date. Rather than wallow in the mire of the now, Marr has dreamt of a better tomorrow. In doing so, he’s built one for himself.

If ‘Holy Fvck’ is a funeral for Lovato’s pop music, it also marks a new beginning, with an artist reborn. As the musician explores this ferocious sonic world and celebrating her musical roots, it’s the start of a bold new era.

Crystal Stilts, like The Cure or The Jesus And Mary Chain before them, understand that the beauty is in the balance.

Not only does it banish the memory of "St Anger" but it’s easily their best work in 17 years.

Features Blake's richest and most emotionally resonant work yet.

All of the well-worn Belle and Sebastian hallmarks are present, but what’s truly impassive is how effortless it all sounds this time around.

The Brooklyn-based quintet traverse an unplaceable pop-era on grooves, prog chops and a spellbinding ennui, sounding effortless throughout.

These songs may well do that all on its own, and its certainly a marvellous cap on a two-year campaign that did just about everything right--but it’s also more than that. Sucker Punch is the story of a young adult whose tales of friendship, love and more aren’t just relatable because they’re supposed to be--they simply are.

Gruelling assault course of lyrical genius that pours itself into the 18 tracks on this album-

These 12 tracks are a furious, funny flag in the ground from a band who make absolutely no bones about who they are.

As ever, Wareham’s work sounds like the model of stateliness and simplicity, but look beneath the surface, and you’ll find a deep, rewarding roil of complex emotional currents.

Yeasayer’s greatest achievement is their balancing act, teetering between heartfelt and overly earnest, between invoking and pastiching past decades, between worldly experimentalism and token tourism.

It'll sit nicely at the ultra-sad end of the CD rack, but if you have to listen to it more than twice a year, you should definitely drink less, get out more and consider relationship counselling.

Thirty minutes of chugging and howling, you go from one killer riff to another with barely a millisecond to recover. [17 Jul 2004, p.46]

It’s melodic, competent stuff, but if you’re going to try and push the crazy buttons you’ve got to go full straitjacket, and Liam Finn is just a tad too straight.

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.

The Seduction Of Kansas is a fun, dancey funk-punk record that benefits from Congleton’s lightness of touch, proof that you can step outside your comfort zone and maintain your sense of self.

There’s an Afro-funk air to the bouncing ‘Money Man’, while the languid ‘Mary Mary’ offers some chilled Orb-style breathing room during one of the most joyful dance releases of the year.

‘Never Let Me Go’ is a true renaissance record. It’s no ‘Metal Machine Music’ or ‘Yeezus’, but a record that finds Placebo inspired and ready for a new era, reinventing the rock veterans for the modern age.

The album itself follows the thread started on 2005’s "With Teeth," which is to say Reznor’s again favouring songs over soundscapes.

Glasser's glowing debut offers more melodic and emotional consummation than almost any of her peers can muster, poised in a genuinely transcendent golden balance between the stern, the spacious and the gaudily sparkling. A very precious Ring indeed.

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

Cathartic in its honesty, There Will Be No Intermission is not dressed up in the same theatrics as her past work, but loaded with the drama of real life. Her fans have allowed us this record, and she’s given the world all of herself in return.

The world of ‘Beatopia’ is finally in full bloom again as its creator embraces not only the vibrant colours of their own imagination, but the magic of letting the world in to see.

An intoxicating listen, Honeymoon is designed for the red neon glow of a smoky cabaret bar, a Californian answer to the chanson tradition.

Both Marr and MM mainman Isaac Brock have a weakness for bombast that can make them sound like Snow Patrol playing Gogol Bordello, but the album heaves with vim and variety.

The tunes--from the devilishly catchy title track to the clattering, anthemic ‘Viva L’Amour’ and the swoonsome, panoramic ‘Tabarly’, complete with romantic mariachi trumpets--are superb.

Pushing the boundaries of their sound and leaning into pointed lyricism, this record is a welcome new chapter for the band.

It's often hugely clever... but tends to forget that the best metaphors are the ones that make you crack involuntary smiles, not the ones that require five minutes and a dictionary. [26 Feb 2005, p.66]

It's crystallised, but the light shines through.

Given that this album spans nearly a decade of the band's huge and peculiar journey, it's odd that its somnolent air actually renders it slightly one-note.

Tune-Yards might have taken a deep breath and a step back, allowing their infectious melodies some space, but their breathless skew-whiff eclecticism remains anything but safe.

The band are increasingly clever at turning a melody inside out to evoke those moments of dizzy-making clarity.

Sparks and fireworks go off all over ‘Typical Music’ too and, bar a few inevitable misfires, there’s plenty to gasp at.

Everything about this album boils down to escape.

‘Hold On Baby’’s brightest moments may be more than enough to keep the die-hard KP fans hooked, but this feels like a missed chance to offer up something truly surprising.

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

Khan refuses to yield crossover hits like 2009’s ‘Daniel’ (only the frenetic rhythms of ‘Sunday Love’ come close) opting instead for a slow style of storytelling that rewards the patient listener.

For four songs you'll find it tender and comforting – then you just start craving VOLUME.

TV On The Radio have returned from an uncertain period sounding remarkably fresh.

"Cool Slut" is burdened by the idea that the need to fight gender inequality still exists in 2015. Occasionally though, they find relief.

In turns, it's searingly honest and brutal... with interludes where everything turns fluffy. [19 Aug 2006, p.35]

Alas, it's unlikely that the applause will stretch to actually wanting to listen as the looping metallic effects, heart-attack drums and seemingly played-backwards female vocals confuse more than impress.

Creatures Of An Hour is a record that finds intimacy in minimalism, and lets the space in the music build to an atmosphere almost as crushing as the audible moments.

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

Tracks like 'Oya', 'Think Of You' and 'River' have a sparse, ghostly quality reminiscent of early Regina Spektor or Björk. Innovative and comforting.

Whatever happens next, Shears has certainly delivered one of the year’s most welcome and infectious comeback albums.

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.

Lyrically there are a few choice morsels (for example: “Cat fight, swollen lip/Hair caught in the teeth of your zip”), but taken as a whole it leaves a taste of saccharine.

In the dark of the night out, the moment is all that matters and the rave will set you free. To shout that in a ‘dying’ language on a record that couldn’t sound any more alive? That’s power – and Kneecap have it.

It's surprisingly gentle, allowing the emotional context of a soundtrack or accompaniment rather than the vacuum-packed, controlled conditions art of their last album.

Yet in his desire to create a self-consciously classic album, BDB has erred on the side of generosity. At 63 minutes, 'The Hour Of Bewilderbeast' is true to its title: there's simply too much to sustain one's unswerving attention.

For every James Blake moment there’s a Jamie Woon one, and Seabed could do with less mopiness.

It’s commendable that aespa are not resting on their laurels or churning out sound-a-likes of what’s worked before, but this project doesn’t showcase the spark that made them special in the first place.