A warts-and-all reckoning, his most exhilarating project to date from front to back.

Shame’s latest offering is a refreshing refuge for those thirsting for music that stirs you up live, and allows you to play witness to a band’s evolution of sound.

Brilliantly, if subtly, displays a newfound maturity for Abrams.

There’s no broad concept or industry-busting roll-out, just 10 pristine, richly satisfying tracks; no more, no less.

The album may not be teeming with experimentation – and somewhat understated in places – but it’s certainly potent enough.

Covering so much ground (‘Hydrate’ even bridges dubstep and reggae) means the album lacks a clear narrative or overarching theme.

‘Let Her Burn’ is worth the wait.

It would be unfair to call the album a time capsule of present times, however chaotic those are, as it feels like the uneven collection might morph into something else when revisiting it next week.

Rather than try to top their peerless anthems, the band have instead uncovered a new warmth on ‘This Is Why’, and the effect is triumphant indeed.

It makes for a frequently breathtaking companion to ‘Take Me Apart’. In a debut album which was all about breaking down, ‘Raven’ reminds us of what it means to be put back together.

‘Heavy Heavy’ is a passionate, soulful and often mesmerising work that will stick around long past the first listen. Succinct and underpinned by a catchy melodic structure, it continues Young Fathers’ peerless run of singular albums and further cements them as one of the more unique acts to exist today.

[The lyrics] can also be so formulaic that you’ll almost wonder whether you’re listening to M3GAN. ... But at the same time, it’s hard to shake the suspicion that Max has fully understood the assignment. ‘Diamonds & Dancefloors’ lives up to its escapist title with a non-stop onslaught of sharp and shiny pop hooks.

The hard-fought ‘My 21st Century Blues’ is unequivocally RAYE from start to finish.

Better known for one-off dancehall hits and dubplates, Popcaan isn’t necessarily expected to make a cohesive feature-length record, particularly not across 17 cumbersome tracks. But on ‘Great Is He’ he proves that the exuberant dancehall sound he’s known for can be tinkered with and remoulded, along with some undiscovered vulnerability.

Album two demonstrates Lewis’ growing confidence as a frontman in the spotlight – long may it continue.

An album that’s rich musically, thematically and above all, emotionally. Sam Smith has never sounded better because they’ve never been more themselves.

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.

Although Låpsley’s third album is at times understated in its pop-leaning potential, it’s a personal collection that unfolds with each listen, revealing new intricacies – lyrical, instrumental and contextual – while finding beauty and balance in the quieter moments.

Clavish narrates his story against a backdrop of deep subs, eerie synth melodies, and dark ambience that allow his bars to cut through with a real sharpness. If he learns to refine his output a little, there’s no reason Clavish can’t achieve the levels of stardom he’s been tipped to reach.

Much like the sardonic vocals heard in the latest post-punk revival, Ice Spice says plenty in her delivery, relying on the tonality of her voice – levelled, calm – to do much of the heavy lifting. It makes ‘Like…?’, her debut project, such a sharp listen. Her voice remains monotone but that only makes the lines hit harder.

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

The Murder Capital may have arrived with a shout and a fist but they’re soaring now with nuance, ideas, a whole lot of heart and the first great guitar album of 2023.

Unsurprisingly, it’s overcooked in places. In addition to super-producer Max Martin (Taylor Swift, Katy Perry), an array of producers come and go on the 17-track record that nearly stretches to a full hour. ... But little could possibly dampen the record’s spirit and spunk.

The inner battles of ‘Permanent Damage’ are unflinching, and will likely stay with you long after the songs finish. It’s slightly deflating, then, that its instrumental flourishes often fade into the background, making for an album that takes risks without ever quite putting itself out there.

It’s sonically brave and lyrically obstinate, a rare delight that stands out from its counterparts.

While there are moments of brilliance, it’s clear there are too many chefs in the kitchen.

The odd well-intentioned platitude hardly spoils an album of killer choruses on which Ryder’s infectious likeability shines through at all times. Next time he might want to chuck in a few more curveballs, but for now, ‘There’s Nothing But Space, Man!’ sounds like the beginning of what could be a really stellar career.

‘Every Loser’ is a present-day primal punk resurrection from the only musician qualified to make one.

‘More Love Less Ego’ is a masterful collection that sees Wizkid beginning to truly perfect his universal pop sound.

Simz’s storytelling is deft and full of range, gliding between generational trauma (‘Broken’) and faith and the grind (‘Who Even Cares’) with ease. The album’s sonic palette, meanwhile, takes on a mellower and less grandiose tone, with Inflo – the producer behind her last two records and the mysterious musical project Sault – and collaborator Cleo Sol bringing a warm, homely base for Simz to nestle in.

‘SOS’ is just that – a phenomenal record that barely puts a foot wrong and raises the bar even higher than she set it before.

It’s too early to tell if the record will help the BTS leader achieve his goal of creating something truly timeless but, in this moment, ‘Indigo’ feels like a masterpiece with the potential to be remembered as a classic.

There is a small sense of disappointment that we don’t get to hear Stormzy let loose on the mic more often, but then this record was never going to be a recreation of ‘Heavy Is The Head’ or ‘Gang Signs & Prayer’s proclivity for immediate grime hits. The hard-hitting lyricism is still present, though.

Now well into her stride as a solo artist, with ‘Black Girl Magic’ Dijon has produced another collection of standout, all-inclusive house classics that’ll dominate dancefloors for years to come.

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.

By being pliable, open and more tender, Mering seems to suggest, perhaps we can save ourselves from the doom that this stunning record finds itself gripped within.

It’s a satisfying ride. This smooth and consistent journey through nostalgia and the energy of new ideas means that ‘Profound Mysteries’ parts one and two stand up as latter-day career triumphs for Röyksopp.

Though these are often beautiful and uneasy songs, too many of them feel rudderless.

With ‘King’s Disease III’, the New York rapper has put the seal on a strong album trilogy that proves that, three decades in, he’s still a force to be reckoned with.

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”.

Not only does it shine a light on what inspires one of the greatest living American songwriters, it also works to preserve the greats of the past and ensures that the best music and stories continue to survive.

‘Loud Without Noise’ covers a lot of ground – including relationships, mental health, and social inequality – with the songs working on two levels. Minto often addresses an issue on a broader scale, while also tying it to personal experience.

This latest album is his most fully-realised yet. There may be no answers to be found on ‘Worm Food’ but who needs them, when there’s so much raw honesty, understanding and self-empowerment.

Woven from a great many creative ideas, ‘Miss Power’ could have felt messy. But through Constance’s skilful bird’s eye view, it instead twists the key in the pandora’s box of her potential, re-introducing her unique take on the world.

This is delicate dreampop rendered without the usual disorienting layers.

It’s yet more evidence that Drake’s art is suffering under the strain of his obsession with churning out as much music as is physically possible. And while 21 doesn’t have the same problem, both halves of the duo are responsible for an album that had the potential to be a classic, and missed.

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.

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

This record carries some of Phoenix’s most intimate and approachable songs in years.

Gibson’s inclination towards expressing thoughtful and emotional contemplation largely balance out the record’s apparent eagerness to simply rave through the pain.

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.

Sonically, it’s his most polished record yet. London producer kwes delivers a soulful, melancholic sound that helps Carner move from dynamic, multi-syllabic storytelling to a more honest, reflective voice.

This is an album that thrills in furious energy, but maintains a balance between light and shade via a deep understanding of dynamics.

Fully fleshed out pop songs with endless charm, if this is what living in the moment sounds like, it suits her.

After a foray into a different sonic world, on Swift’s return to pure pop she still shimmers.

A record that, when given the requisite time and attention, offers unfathomable depths to explore.

‘Congregation’ is a fiery, relentless punk blowout that pulls no punches against priests, patriarchy and those who abuse power from the top of our society.

‘The Car’ is almost overwhelming in terms of its ambition and scope, but provides ample motive to revisit this record over and over again.

If the trimmings were removed from ‘It’s Only Me’, it might rival his previous releases – instead it’s a few notches shy of greatness

The result is an album that’s spiky, surprising and not quite cohesive, but never ever boring. Tove Lo was always much too interesting to be a slave to the algorithm.

A record that establishes Ballentine as a clear-eyed truth-teller, with poignant songs that move relentlessly as she revisits cobwebbed childhood nightmares and the dark shadow of familial trauma.

This album is an almighty slog, one where the vibrant new is weighed down with a lot of the same old tricks. For all glimpses of bold musical and lyrical steps forward, they remain largely the same band they’ve always been with ‘Return Of The Dream Canteen’ offering an all-you-can-eat buffet that often feels overwhelming.

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

‘FOREVERANDEVERNOMORE’ is never quite an album that is completely comforting or despairing. Instead, it explores the vast reaches between the two and uses introspection as a means of finding stability in the chaos.

It’s rare that an electronic album manages to tell such a strong story while eliciting so many different emotions. Impressively balancing meditative calmness (‘Time’) with rave euphoria (the guitar-led ‘Running’), ‘Capricorn Sun’ proves that TSHA really is in a league of her own.

‘Suckerpunch’ is a bold sonic adventure that thrives on excess. Throughout the record’s constantly shifting 13 tracks, Moriondo proves that she’s an artist that can do it all, all while having an absolute ball.

While Snaith could’ve easily packed ‘Cherry’ full of wall-to-wall bangers, it shouldn’t be too surprising to hear that he does switch things up. The soothing steadiness of ‘Clavicle’ and the exquisite piano loop of ‘Cloudy’ are fine examples of when his toned-down production approach works wonders, though he can be guilty of overindulging.

Combining the band’s slightly sidelined knack for writing huge, immediately memorable pop bangers with the more complex, neurotic lyrical voice of The 1975’s more recent releases, ‘Being Funny In A Foreign Language’ feels like the right next step after pushing experimental excess to its logical conclusion.

FLOHIO’s willingness to embrace a number of genres and sounds in her music — from 2000s grime to house music — can only be a positive thing, and ‘Out Of Heart’, a body of work that does show promise, serves up a refreshing take on modern-day rap. There’s still room for improvement, though.

In the poetic and thoughtful nature of it, as well as the odd glimpse of where she could go next, WILLOW’s fifth record should be noted as her breaking sonically mature new ground.

For the most part, however, while never less than beautifully realised, there’s a sense that the record has more dramatic and intense potential that’s left frustratingly untapped.

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.

At its core, the record continues the thing that made them so exciting in the first place – chaotic, brilliant curveballs that capture the confusion and commotion of life right now.

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

An album of reinfatuation and reaffirmation, ‘Fossora’ is invigorating in its drive, if there’s little of real surprise here; hard as the mushroom-gabber beats are, if you’ve heard Pluto or Mutual Core, you won’t be shocked.

‘The End, So Far’ may rattle many of the metal faithful, but for the prowess and lasting impression of this record alone, this is a true Slipknot record. It’s unlikely that many fans who’ve been along for the whole ride would jump ship now.

‘Doggerel’, in its hospitably decanted way, is every bit as transportive and absorbing as the early records, and further proof that Pixies’ music remains the alt-rock gold standard. Swill it around and savour.

With ‘Cool It Down’ the trio disregard expectations with ease, bursting through conjectures with tracks that make the apocalypse sound fun.

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

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.

A cocky, self-assured record that blends Sports Team’s chaotic energy with a smart, heartfelt understanding of the power of guitar music.

‘EBM’, then, goes some way to bringing the seasoned band back to what they do best, all the while pushing things forward.

On ‘Born Pink’, BLACKPINK tread familiar thematic territory for pop music, but the imagery – finding solace from heartbreak at the bottom of a bottle (‘The Happiest Girl’), boasting about being the type of girl you take to your “mama house” (‘Typa Girl’) – isn’t particularly novel, though they have effectively applied a personal touch in the past (see Jennie’s ‘Solo’).

Maya Hawke might not be preparing to go back to school, as the character at the heart of this record would be but, if she were, ‘Moss’ would guarantee her top grades.

This is the sound of a band at their most confident, capable of still pushing the boundaries they seemingly reimagined years ago without overwhelming audiences with their own love for endless improvisation. There are no lyrics on this album, but it feels like you can hear these three musicians louder than ever.

With ‘God Save The Animals’, these genre-resistant idiosyncrasies remain, though a few moments shine through with newfound clarity and vulnerability. Across the diverse and consistently excellent 13-track record, he hops between styles, perspectives and energies with abandon.

Genres may come and go, but Sawayama’s second album is defined by her ability to fashion each of these sounds into big, brilliant pop songs. The best British pop album of the year.

Mura Masa has again pooled disparate guests and sounds to make a record that is somehow both steeped in a sense of curation and individual to his artistic identity.

Blake Mills’ production is exquisite throughout what is Mumford’s most crafted studio recording to date; this album is a career-best for the musician. While it is undoubtedly an emotional and often heart-breaking listen, it’s also a record full of defiance, hope and faith.

This is a Suede record, so there are moments of aching majesty – see the tormented ‘It’s Always The Quiet Ones’, ‘Turn Off Your Brain And Yell’ and the hopelessly devoted ‘What Am I Without You’ (which sees Anderson giving himself to his fans) – but, all in all, ‘Autofiction’ finds the indie greats getting back in the garage to make a racket.

This isn’t just a striking return for one of the most individual bands of the last 20 years; it is, musically, an astounding masterpiece. Their finest hour? Quite possibly.

Shedding old skins with jubilance, ‘Expert in A Dying Field’ is testament to the belief that better things are always yet to come. For us as listeners, they’re already be here.

‘Asphalt Meadows’ is as assured and stately as you’d expect and hope for from indie veterans now 10 albums and 25 years into their career, but this beaut is as consistent and satisfying as their early-mid ‘00s career peak.

It’s a fizzing piece of hard-rock magic.

The results are beautiful, moving and – regardless of subject matter – brilliantly inventive.

Spirituals’ gets more brutalist as it goes on, weaving its way from tropical space-pop through cosmic reggae to the gothic R&B cranks and coils of ‘Ain’t Ready’ and, finally, to ‘Fail First’, a wonderfully New Order-ish concoction of indietronic chug, industrial grunge guitars, spectral cheerleader chants and punkoid yells.

‘I Love You Jennifer B’ is the product of a voracious appetite to find the gaps in between the familiar, a record emblazoned with such pristine, disorienting, unsettling originality that at first, you don’t quite know what to do with it.

If Two Door are to hold onto anything from ‘Keep On Smiling’, it should be the playful, curious moments that convey a sense of fun, even if that’s deceptive. When things get serious on this record, the band stumble and the smiles begin to slip.