The occasional outdated attitude and some light filler material here and there aside, ‘Twelve Carat Toothache’ is another step up for Post Malone. It’s a record that feels distinctively, inimitably him and succeeds in his goal of sharing his truth.

They deliver a record of impressive contrasts; one that allows them to show off exactly why they’re beloved in their native Scotland, and soon beyond.

It may be theatrical, but ‘Superache’ still feels deep and honest. Cut through the crescendoes and you’ll find real tenderness.

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

‘The Mutt’s Nuts’ expands the boundaries of what Chubby and the Gang are looking to achieve, but they’re not about to forget where they came from.

Attention Please is the first to feature just guitarist Wata on vocals. Her breathlessly beautiful singing style calls to mind classic Stereolab on the title track and one of My Bloody Valentine's more sublime moments on 'Hope'.

This is an album that rings with the honed precision and craftsmanship of a job thoroughly done.

The tension created by the lyrics and music is wonderful and uneasy, ensuring that The Idler is endlessly fascinating and unlike anything else you're likely to hear this year.

Carefully constructed and wonderfully cohesive, it's an album or earnest, yearning rock that shows Lonely The Brave are aiming for the fire cannons and shirtless mega-gigs that Biffy Clyro have worked so hard for.

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.

With In Our Bedroom... Stars are rewriting the textbook on romance with effortless glee.

Shotters Nation isn't his magum opus, it's still infinitely more consistent, listenable and likely to get played on the radio than its predecessor ever was.

Waking Lines is a success.

‘Sideways To New Italy’ might sound like sun-splashed indie for good times, but there’s a great deal of angst buried within. Yet this is clearly also the sound of a band excited to be in the studio together; warmth and friendship seeps through every note.

How refreshing, fun and free it all sounds.

Variety keeps things interesting, but it also allows the duo to flex their musical muscles, and they’ve traded in some of their previous blistering punk for a more relaxed pace on certain tracks, but without sacrificing any intensity.

Whilst 'The Argument' still sounds unmistakably Like Fugazi, it's the sound of an inspirational band, renewed, at play.

Despite the fullness of its sound, ‘Call A Doctor’ never loses its personal touch, too. “You’ve been swell / Oh, what the hell / You’ve been dear,” closes James on ‘Outro’, bringing all this colourful melodrama to a touching end.

Mostly this is Nas going back to his former role as a keen street observer, ready to dispense wisdom to up-and-coming youngbloods.

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]

As explorations of pain go, ‘Color Theory’ is as beautiful as it is brave.

MIA innovates club music, art music and pop music at every turn.

Part 1, ‘Together’, is a collection of music more soothing than balm. Spatial beauty is the order of the day.

Reality Check stands as a fun, frank and startlingly perceptive debut that surprises for all the right reasons.

Without [Kate Nash collaboration Awkward], Fidlar is still an electrifying, intensely fun album. But with it, it would have been perfect.

Common has just gone way, way off the hip-hop map.

If The Horrors' "Primary Colours" is the night out, then Three Fact Fader--Engineers’ follow-up to their 2005 debut--is the sound of the blissful recovery next day.

‘Black Star’ isn’t the diasporic spectacle she originally hinted at – it’s a hedonistic pop recalibrator that hits no matter where you’re from.

Her vocals now sound stately, and the impression is of a grande dame breathing new life into work made as an ingenue.

Deafheaven’s brilliance has long been hung upon the pursuit of a truth, like documentarians before they hit the edit suite. These songs are filthy, dank, often devoid of light, but like a weed emerging from a pavement’s crack, there’s something resembling hope there. A suggestion that maybe there’s something more.

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.

With the standard set, Turner brings an almost literal meaning to the notion of 'traditional English punk' and, as always, it's a fearless venture for an artist with something interesting to say.

‘Who Cares?’, O’Connor’s fourth album, is a gorgeously measured step forward.

Woman is a joyous album of hope and optimism.

The result is both brutally honest and joyfully exuberant, as the band get comfortable and cathartic in their own skin – and invite you to do the same.

In this brilliant new time of directional change, the piano-led analogue boy is practically smiling his words out on the Mark Ronson-produced 'Ballad Of Old What's His Name'.

Here, Byrne's well-plotted tunes can rule, and Norm can keep himself in the background, going against his natural tendency to overstuff.

A superbly impertinent set. [10 Jul 2004, p.48]

During the rousing, blissfully noisy one-two of ‘Chicago’ and ‘Upon Sober Reflection’, ‘Fate & Alcohol’ has the juice to make you forget the lights are about to go out, harnessing the energy that once made Japandroids’ reckless, romantic barroom epics so at odds with the real world.

The more experimental and unsettling elements will reward longtime stans, while recent converts will be just as thrilled with its party-starting exuberance. What’s universally clear, however, is that 20 years into his career, Snaith has found the perfect balance between intimate songwriting and extroverted sonic decisions.

On the other hand, Part 2 is as unsettling as a record entitled ‘Locusts’ should be. ... What follows is a collection of music that is both deeply cinematic – ‘The Worriment Waltz’ is positively Hitchcockian, ‘Trust Fades’ could be lifted from one of Akira Yamaoka’s acclaimed Silent Hill soundtracks – and yet comes over much like you’d imagine the end of the world would sound.

Throughout the record, she bravely calls out incredibly important issues such as toxic masculinity and rape culture, but her music never loses its playfulness. This is an enthralling and deeply relevant debut.

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.

A blissful happiness pervades 'Baby I'm Bored', but then that's Evan all over.

Their eagerness to look into music's past only serves to make them sound timeless.

As with her previous efforts Olsen’s unique vocal steals the show, but this is the singer opening up all the other parts to her personality. The more we see, the more there is to love.

I Know Myself (Montreal)’ revitalises the album version with warped acoustic guitar and brass, and Tanner adds foreboding guitar noise to a narcotic ‘Green Eyes (Music Blues)’. But the rich piano on ‘Love (Montreal)’ is best, crowning an EP that expands on the wealth of ideas McMahon put into Love.

Liars’ most refined and accessible album has emerged.

Their vision remains a bleak one--but it makes resistance sound holy, and love sound like a revolutionary act.

A harmonious hardcore Dispute.

‘Optimist’ is an accomplished first album that really shines and, given Finneas’ track record so far, we wouldn’t have expected anything less.

By tying together contrasting sounds and stories into this brilliant collection, Biig Piig embraces the joy of reinvention.

You finish this collection feeling lighter, a little more optimistic about what the world has to offer.

Souls is a sinewy beast, abundant with creativity, and while it ostensibly sounds like most other Maiden albums, there are subtle--or not so subtle--differences.

‘ÁTTA’ is at least the band’s best album since 2005’s monolithic ‘Takk’ made them a household name, and at most a record that gives Sigur Rós plenty more reason to exist in adding some pure and natural soul to this cold and unfeeling world.

Islands is as ferocious and catchy as ever. And while it’s undoubtedly a record of consolidation, a return to familiar home ground, it also gently scouts new territory.

Every track brims with exuberant life. His first true masterpiece.

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

If ‘Walls’ found Tomlinson still figuring out what this part of his artistic journey should be, ‘Faith In The Future’ feels much more assured. It doesn’t reinvent the wheel of modern guitar music, but is a solid step forward as the musician continues what he’s acknowledged will be “an ever-evolving process”.

A fine record from an ever-impressive band.

To be able to write with universality is the mark of a songwriter’s ambition growing, and here Mac DeMarco is transitioning into one of the best around.

At their best, the arrangements here feel like thoughts in progress, with Humberstone’s distinctive vocal speaking to the turbulent feelings that bubble underneath the surface of her songs.

The trio's first new album in eight years finds The Black Keys' filthy uncles, Grinderman's cellmates and The Stooges' delinquent offspring still deeply embedded in a scuzzy groove.

The band continue to be radical, but rather than being reactionary, ‘There is No Year’ is precise, thoughtful and powerful.

Like any conversation we have with ourselves, ‘Mystic Familiar’ is not simple or predictable, but does prove the power of switching off all distractions and taking the time to dig deep into what’s inside. There’s a whole other universe you might be missing.

You could accuse Liars of abandoning all of their high-art concepts and otherworldly thoughts so they could secure their place on a tour of America's enormodomes with Interpol. Well, you could if this album wasn't so perfect.

For Nao, it’s also a representation of the growth (and heartache and pain) she’s pushed through in the decade since her debut and how she’s come out the other side, lighter, warmer and happier – but just as brilliant.

The 2020s have found their pop king and ‘Golden’ more than secures him the throne.

Mostly this album succeeds on attrition and attitude, much like ‘Bodak Yellow’ did.

Back in the Saddle (Creek) is Laura Burhenn--half of disbanded candyfloss-pop duo Georgie James--whose breathy coo glides effortlessly over the golden ‘Dusty In Memphis’ glow that lights up the first Mynabirds album.

Jaded & Faded strikes a fine balance between self-deprecation and the supreme confidence needed to get away with suggesting you've had your chips. But there's no second album syndrome here. It whoops ass.

Caracal is about Disclosure maturing, moving on and showing the listener how to rave respectably. This is dance music for grown-ups.

A few good lyrics (“You’re in love with the future / I don’t know why”) and some bad (“Why don’t you listen to your momma? / She’s old”) stick out, but the narrative hook is stronger in theory than in practice. ... The music on ‘Raw Data Feel’ is the band’s best, catchiest and most focused to date.

King Krule fans will find their hero to be far more accessible on ‘Man Alive!’. The Krulean gloom is beginning to lift and, with this newfound paternal responsibility and a more optimistic worldview in place, Marshall’s creativity is shining for all the world to see.

For the most part, ‘Before Love Came To Kill Us’ is a beautiful, heart-wrenching debut that sees its creator come good on her early promise.

It’s post-rock burning its beret, Americana for the post-apocalypse.

Recorded with help from Fantomas shrieker Mike Patton and Buzz ‘Melvins’ Osbourne on guitar, Carboniferous rocks out with little competition.

This is how you really do summertime sadness.

As the name suggests, Nothing Is Still is a fluid, complete piece of electronic music that sways from thoughtful down-tempo beats to swelling pieces of orchestral beauty. There are particular moments of beauty, though.

This is an incredibly sharp return.

Heavenly.

LJ retain their title as the world's premier inner-space invaders. [29 Jan 2005, p.58]

It's a soulful, romantic album about what happens when the lights come up at the end of the night and life smacks you in the face.

The result is a markedly retro-futurist sound, from the OMD-ish ‘Kinda Dark’ to ‘It Just Doesn’t Happen’, the synth line on which sounds suspiciously similar to a new wave rendition of Salt-N-Pepa’s ‘Push It’. At times, the music veers so close to kitsch that it may very well alienate some listeners from the get-go. Bejar’s songwriting remains as deft, cryptic and mosaic as ever though.

Though inspired by the endless waiting felt during the moving statues phenomenon in ‘80s Ireland, where religious statues reportedly moved spontaneously, there’s no anticipation for a holy punk apparition here. Everything we could have expected with ‘Time Bends and Break the Bower’ has been delivered.

With ‘The Passionate Ones’, he has honed his intuitive songwriting and production for an experience that is warped, welcoming and deservedly self-assured.

While the sumptuous grooves that underpin the tracks are captivating, it’s also the thematic content of Bismillah that makes for repeated listens.

The best Guided By Voices album yet. [28 Aug 2004, p.57]

There is little room to breathe and you will practically be beaten into submission by Keary’s snare by the time you reach closer ‘Slap Juice’. But this is a confident, assured debut from O., two instrumentalists at the height of their craft – with a real sense of humour to boot.

It’s a no-holds-barred trip into Taylor Hawkins’ personal favourites, and a loving homage to some of classic rock’s greatest voices.

‘Unnatural’ is full of sexy, snarling swagger and ‘Walls’ zips by on a wave of thundering riffs. Elsewhere there are hints of industrial (‘Money Machine’) and even reggae (‘Slow Down’), all proving that Nick Valensi has plenty of ideas and invention to offer outside of The Strokes.

This is that rare music that genuinely deserves the descriptor ‘visceral’: sonic body horror that comes on like avant-garde composer Diamanda Galas scoring David Cronenberg.

Fizzingly fun, this third mixtape sees Chance finessing but certainly not hampering, his freewheeling nature.

A roducer's album in the best sense, showcasing the personal and lyrical over flashy technique. [Review of UK version]

On her debut album, they all blossomed into a rich, self-reflective record that shows the artist beyond the beats.

The New York songwriter could be compared to the likes of Olivia Rodrigo or Phoebe Bridgers for her confessional, piercingly vulnerable indie–pop, but on ‘Honey’ her warmth and candour is singular.

The London quartet's second long-player sounds designed to interrogate ideas of what punk should or could mean.

The result is excellence as usual, with DOOM rumbling along between sinister and silly while JJ slings in off-kilter operatics.