in•ter a•li•a is the opposite of being phoned in.

For the first time in years, Pet Shop Boys sound thrillingly modern. The songs, too, are the finest in years.

Beautifully produced and filled with honest, unrefined conversations about love, life and sacrifices, ‘6pc Hot’ sees 6lack shoot straight from the heart. Even though it’s just a taster, it puts the Atlanta crooner in prime position to take over as the leader of R&B’s new school.

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

Witness isn’t about subtlety, but if you’re going to deliver important messages about female autonomy to a young audience, it’s surely better to shout than whisper.

To all intents and purposes McKenna is a teen breakout star, but describing him that way feels reductive after listening to his debut, on which he proves himself a serious lyricist who deserves more than to be put in a box.

The heart of the record, Bermuda Waterfall, crystallises a real sense of existential loneliness and leads into the outstanding, lilting waltz of ‘Darkness’ and ‘Hands Dance’.

‘Charm’ boasts a new level of maturity, its creator more poised and at ease than ever before.

This is an ambitious, adventurous feat that shows off Benee’s pop-hook panache and genre-bending range.

Yes, this is still Muse, but here they’re trying to be something else--well, everything else. They are avatars in a ridiculous simulation of teenage nerdery, inviting you to steal away from the nightmare, and into an electric dream.

It’s funny, melancholy, randy, touching, disgusting and deeply, deeply strange. It will baffle many--but at 17 tracks and 70 minutes, it has the feel of a magnum opus.

‘Ain’t No Friend Of Mine’ is a brilliantly snotty two fingers up at the world. There’s no danger of finding the same fault in Street Safari, a record even more loveable than PATV’s first.

Accelerate is by some considerable distance REM’s best and most cohesive album since Berry left, and crucially echoes a time when they made their best music, if not necessarily their biggest-selling.

As much fun as the big names prove to be – Thundercat’s turn on ‘Bowling’, .Paak on ‘Moon’ – it’s often more thrilling to hear DOMi and Beck go at it alone.

For the most part, though, After The Disco unfolds at a fertile equidistance from each man’s comfort zone (inasmuch as a polymath like Burton can be said to have one) and the results are a marked improvement.

The record – which is equally rewarding to both newcomers and devotees of the genre – nails the transcendental and transportive qualities Thackray aims to showcase.

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.

There’s no better soundtrack to getting by and falling in love as the world wobbles unsteadily about us.

The Vaccines' debut does a wonderful thing--it reminds you that guitar music still works.

Nine Types...will make those who over-contextualise TVOTR finally quit their chin-stroking and live a little.

If there’s one criticism you could level at ‘Crybaby’, it’s that its slow-burning nature lacks the immediacy or clear-focused thrills of ‘Heartthrob’ and 2016’s ‘Love You To Death’, or the clever concept behind ‘Still Jealous’. But once ‘Crybaby’ truly clicks into place, it makes for another solid collection from a band ever-resistant to categorisation.

What she does do is elegantly weave different worlds together while staying true to herself throughout. It’s a follow-up that seals her as a new icon for outsiders, in whatever shape she takes.

Everything is Love may lack the immediate impact of Jay-Z and Beyoncé’s respective solo latest records, but it’s still interesting to see two of the biggest stars in the world relax. ... There’s nothing glitzy here; it all just works.

His third album in as many years shows he’s on a streak that’s both prolific and high quality.

Post-Jordan Fish, they continue to be what they’ve always been: a creative force that transcends the personalities of its individuals. It entirely justifies the four-year wait, which already feels like ancient history.

From the start, it’s clear that this isn’t some posthumous dig around in a bucket of old offcuts in an attempt to bleed some money out of dedicated fans, but rather a slick and gratifying fulfilment of one of Petty’s long standing wishes. ‘Wildflowers & All The Rest’ feels less like grave-robbing and more like bringing back one of the all-time greats back to life.

On ‘All of This Will End’, she lasers in on community, mortality and how where you’ve come from impacts where you’re going all with her indie pop prowess intact. ... A wonderful album.

A bit of a winner. [17 Sep 2005, p.58]

With its drill influences and eclecticism, this is perhaps the record ‘Donda’ could have been, proving that Fivio has plenty of scope to transcend drill culture.

Lynne’s melodic sparkle, as ever, acts as ELO’s warp drive. He expertly gives tired old genres shots of refreshing stardust.

Their truck-stop talk of tumours, drunk moms and Isaiah 11:6 focus the album on Deep South degradation, but the lush Lemonheads-pop of ‘Drive’, the stoned drive-in glam of ‘That Man’ and the girl-band psych-blues of ‘Baby Mae’ lend this record the tint of a narcotic and poetic take on Fleetwood Mac’s ‘Tusk’ with Jack White on fuzz and Phil Spector on shotgun.

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

If you’re chasing the initial buzz, Little Fictions is quite a hit.

With not a single duffer over another eight tracks, it looks like our eventual Best Of Body Talk compilation might just be the album of the year.

Marcus Lambkin seems to have a thing for awful names and even worse puns. Luckily for us, as Shit Robot, his ability to craft sublime slices of electro house and muscular techno pop trumps everything else about him.

Whether listening to them or foolhardily attempting to describe them, there’s little about Marijuana Deathsquads that’s easy, but that doesn’t make their third LP any less rewarding.

Angry blues stomps such as ‘Early In The Morning’ are the aural equivalent of Wild Turkey for breakfast, while ‘Out At Sea’ combines the grit and growl of the Bastards’ beginnings with a layering of sounds that’s wider, more expansive and ultimately more interesting.

Her second, now with indie Bella Union, is a precious mix of childlike insouciance and adolescent anxiety.

A volatile brew of uneasy drama and emotion from a band that, on this showing, should always record live.

Fittingly, the emotional alchemy that Opeth muster on album number 13 is a sonic brew that could sedate a herd of buffalo.

Her music is smart, rich and thoughtful enough to pull it off.

Gel have a firmer grip on the steering wheel this time around; their savagery is nuanced but uncompromising, and they’ve grown into themselves with a great deal of grace. Take your eyes off them at your peril.

Smart; savvy; insanely resilient: 'Waterloo To Anywhere' is just the ticket.

They’re still genre-twisting, but their focus has shifted slightly from complexity to short, punchy riffs that recall some of the bands that producer Gil Norton has worked with previously: Pixies, Foo Fighters, The Distillers.

Godspeed’s new album articulates dark times, but it also presents the countermovement with breathtaking power.

For all its musical philandering, unbridled excess and shrouds of irony, you’ll be hard-pressed to find a record with more musical depth and warmth all year than this one.

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.

Significant Changes is at once both ludicrously fun and inquisitive, knowing exactly when to fuse Jayda G’s learnings and passions into music that’s, quite clearly, full of heart and wisdom.

Tinashe and her fans were kept waiting a frustratingly long time for Joyride, but perhaps it was this extra time that gave her the opportunity to craft the album into the sensual, star-ridden offering she’s released.

By drawing heavily on some of the masters in the game and executing those styles with beauty and ease – Nation Of Language have unearthed a vibrant space of their own.

The result is an excellent follow-up to the breakthrough that was ‘Any Human Friend’. Hackman raises the stakes in her music in a way that feels natural; it is conceptually bigger and more creatively mature, while the songcraft makes this transition feel earned.

A career-best statement of Shah’s songwriting prowess, where inner struggles are rendered with maturity and relatability, supercharged by a fearless, expansive sonic palette.

‘Talkie Walkie’ deserves to do as well as ‘Moon Safari’. There’s no question that it’s a better record, a different record, written by a pair of supremely talented and greatly improved musicians enjoying total mastery of their studio and sound, who aren’t afraid to take risks for fear of offending their audience.

Despite being a good 30 years out of time, it's absolutely brilliant.

Johns’ 10-track debut solo album is a placid but gutsy amble that pitches him as Bill Callahan dealing with a lazy hangover the morning after a pub crawl with Guy Garvey.

Shoegazing in origin, barn-storming in conclusion. [24 Jun 2006, p.43]

On the whole, Red Hot + Fela works both as an introduction to Afrobeat, and as a reworking of the genre, making it a fitting tribute not just to Fela’s music but also his indomitable spirit.

Less interesting songs like ‘In My Feelings’ and ‘Hold Me By The Heart’ should probably have been chopped, but they don’t prevent her from making a great first impression.

‘Pink Friday 2’ feels like a consolidation and refinement of everything Minaj can do – including dropping pop culture references that no other artist would think of.

‘Teething’ sees the quartet level up their sound without losing what fans have come to love. A swaggering collection of complex-but-catchy cuts, you won’t hear any teething problems here.

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.

Sexy, fierce and occasionally very, very silly, this is an album made to be played on jukeboxes in backwater biker bars the world over, loudly.

The vocals are as limber as the glitching, swaying soundscapes and the whole album is a mesmerising listen that constantly surprises.

On the intoxicating Heard It In A Past Life, Rogers sounds in love with art, nature and life itself.

If these pals enjoy bugging out to clusters of dizzying breakbeats and/or swooning, sad house chords, so much the better.

On ‘Of Earth & Wires’, Saleh reveals a new resoluteness as a singer-songwriter, fully embracing pop but without abandoning their experimental curiosity. Above all, they’re using pop as a medium to further advocate for social equality and justice.

Filled with crunchy, complex tunes that elegantly interweave a host of unusual influences, Miss Universe is an impressive and bold record.

It couples a moody sort of glamour with a concrete feeling of loneliness, and it makes for some of the most affecting comedown folk you’re likely to hear all year.

Largely flirting with conformity from a distance, Gore really comes into its own in the latter half, when Deftones open the silo doors on their buried missiles of epic melody.

Coombes’ vocal, of course, gives the whole thing a nostalgic familiarity, but musically it’s an album that, for him, explores some fresh ground.

It might not leave you feeling as euphoric as what’s come before, but its lingering sensation is a testament to the power of Antonoff’s immersive songwriting.

This richly diverse record is markedly Petralli’s own.

Throughout we’re treated to bold and buoyant basslines, slick vocal harmonies and vocalist Cristal Ramirez’s crisp delivery of deliciously millennial lyrics .

Playful and sincere, mature but childlike, featherlight and occasionally heavy, this assured record sees Whack pull off a Jenga-like balancing act.

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.

Ultimately, Aerotropolis is not just a statement of Ikonika’s personal growth and reinvigoration, but a measured statement of British electronic music’s broader lift-off.

When the album proper kicks in with ‘Totally Fine’, it’s clear that PUP are still trading in the same brutally pissed off but unassailably catchy blasts of self-loathing. And, yes, it’s still as much fun as ever.

'Kid B'? Yeah, OK - but Radiohead will never make another album like it, and as a twin, it's every bit the equal.

Like its cover, the Jean-Michel Basquiat artwork ‘Bird On Money’, it’s spiky but quite stunning. This is a cool album, the kind you begrudgingly grow to love, even if it never cared about you.

Wild Beasts sometimes seemed overly enamoured with ideology, self-aware to a fault, while Thorpe’s solo album is simpler, more direct, more self-contained – and therein lies its power.

A departure from their scrappy origins, this record is a big, grown-up collection of forward-thinking rock gems. Sure, it might not be as chaotic or feel as grimy as what’s come before, but it’s a deliberately larger-than-life affair.

This is the side of Jack White III he's happy to show the world right now, and it's absolutely fascinating to behold.

As curious a party piece that is, it rather overshadows their phenomenal way with gorgeous melodies and heart-melting harmonies.

Simple, unruly and riotously fun.

Being the K-pop chameleons they are, MONSTA X continue to refine and redefine themselves with every style and genre on each new release.

A collection of songs that showcase the tangled feelings of this time, the young artist’s third record is a poignant, powerful thing.

Bubba may be lacking the type of big bangers that thrive in festival sets like ‘99.9%’, but is no worse for it. Instead it’s a dizzying hour that is more interested in enthralling the already-fans that have made it into the club and to give them a helluva night. Job done.

A stunning return to form. [14 Oct 2006, p.35]

It might not be quite the experimental opus you feel Weller’s still holding back, but that feels a churlish complaint when the songs are this well-written. There’s a lightness of touch and a tenderness at ‘On Sunset”s heart.

Both cerebral and corporeal, sacred and profane, The Eternal sees this band approach the level of The Velvet Underground, where chaos and beauty ravish each other within the same song. Clever old sods.

This dream team (two thirds Britney producers Bloodshy & Avant, one third Mark Ronson collaborator Andrew Wyatt) decided to take a step back and make an album 'as a band', rather than as competing knob-twiddlers. And it's worked.

By its close, 'The Blueprint' has eloquently mapped out life's foundations: laughter, tears, joy and pain, and has marked the Jigga as the complete rapper.

Given its creator’s effortless vocals, smart lyricism and obvious ability to craft new bangers, ‘Gifted’ will only add to the clamour surrounding Koffee’s name: time will tell how far she will continue to rise from this point.

Towards ‘Blue Water Road’’s conclusion, things start to drift a little, ‘Everything’ feeling longer than its three-minute-27-second runtime and the Thundercat and Ambre-starring ‘Wondering/Wandering’ not quite landing as memorably as you’d hope. For the most part, though, this album finds Kehlani in spectacular form – softer, stronger and better than ever.

Gallipoli is almost always an intriguing listen. Soaking the sound they’ve spent over a decade cultivating in dazzling Italian sun, Beirut’s latest is a welcome summer holiday.

While previous album ‘Truth Is A Beautiful Thing’ was a sombre affair, a new energy saturates ‘Californian Soil’. Fizzing with club sounds and filled with bright lyricism, London Grammar are more confident, and more fun, than they’ve ever been.

It could do with an edit in places (its 16-song tracklist loses momentum on the likes of ‘River Song’ and ‘Little Blue’), but for the most part it’s a record of great beauty; one to cling to when you’re going through it and revel in when you too have made it to the other side.

Ultimately, ‘Mayhem’ feels like a great Gaga album because it’s just so much fun. At times, it’s a bit like reconnecting with an old friend who makes sense even when they seem to be chatting nonsense.