Once upon a time it seemed like Grammatics had too many ideas, they couldn’t quite decide who they wanted to be. In the end, they just decided to be themselves, and the result frequently approaches bona fide genius.

That this 'art collective,' incubated in south London's makeshift spaces--all sketchy car parks and vibrant experimentation--should turn out a debut as casually brilliant as Other People's Problems is not surprising in itself. But that it should sound so vital, kind of is.

At times joyful and at others surprisingly moving, Bad Contestant sets Maltese on the start of a path that marks him out as a true prodigious talent. This is the voice of a true original. The future, it seems, is schmaltz.

There are no dull moments, but if there’s even a brief drop in intensity, it should only be used to reflect on the energy you probably just felt.

A Fever Dream is by far the most focused, making good on frontman Jonathan Higgs’ recent claim to NME that the songs “need each other”.

Boisterous, full of sincerity and exciting enough to make you jump on a table in the middle of a board meeting, ‘Tickets To My Downfall’ is an album that not only proves MGK can do whatever the hell he likes, but that also maybe pop-punk still has something important to offer the world.

Hypersonic Missiles mostly hits the notes he longs to convey: it’s by turns euphoric and melancholy, self-deprecating and righteous, untethered and claustrophobic. There are no easy answers here, but Sam Fender’s asking the right questions.

It's like 'Pet Sounds' born and raised in the Bronx. [26 Mar 2005, p.51]

By turns anthemic, experimental and boldly poptastic, Forever Neverland hits multiple grooves, proving she’s a fascinating, multifaceted musician in her own right. As an artist, she’s much more than someone to lean on.

The newly reduced duo return with a fifth album that could be 2012's least likely coming-of-age.

Process might not be as bold or as inventive or as life-changing as some of the other records Sampha’s had a hand in during his career, but it does have a quiet, dignified impact that suits its maker. He hasn’t stepped out of his shadowy, background world; instead, he’s invited us to join him there.

It's honest, intense, funny, furious, and on 'Letter 2 Dizzee'--an olive branch to his estranged protege--tear-jerkingly poignant.

Arthur Beatrice running their race slow and steady has resulted in an album full of sophisticated pop.

A timelessly raw and real ride through this thing called life.

If he still sounds semi-conscious half the time, so be it. Three albums into his misleading career and Damon Gough, it seems, can still write strange, life-affirming pop music in his sleep.

Another long-awaited offering finally drops and it's wonderfully enchanting.

The result is a great album that simultaneously wears its bruised heart on its sleeve (the lovelorn should be warned: it’s a real tearjerker at times), and sugars its melancholy with opulent musical arrangements.

You’ll find Eels’ most revealing, autobiographical work-to-date to be the most beautiful break-up record since Beck’s ‘Sea Change’.

Perhaps Oberst finds it tough to bring his brilliant bile to bear upon a synth the way he attacks an acoustic; a shame, as The People's Key is otherwise synthetic perfection.

The clarity is chill-wave level rather than that of a tape that had been dropped in a bath, then dried with a hairdryer. And, more importantly, the songs sound better than ever.

All in all, ‘The Lockdown Sessions’’ all-bets-off stylistic game of spin-the-bottle feels attuned to 2021’s post-genre Spotify world, as Elton continues to further his musical universe. The Rocketman remains in orbit.

This record fuses the first album’s goofy sense of humour with ‘Joy…’’s brazen manifesto for a healthier society. Despite their imperfections and the often justified criticism, IDLES are ultimately a good thing. The band want to take you on a trip and for you to enjoy the ride, and for the destination to be serene. Hold on tight.

Even at his most self-referential, Bowie is still a zillion times more inventive, brave and rocket-to-Mars brilliant than anyone who's been prodded by the ubiquitous genius stick, like, ever.

Beneath those perverted pop bounces, though, are some sadder, softer moments, and a reminder that Levi doesn’t just need discordant noise to twist your insides.

Ladytron slide perfectly vacuum-moulded from the Kraftwerk production line, a brand new model of synthesised splendour, power songwriting, and industrial dance shudderings. 'He Took Her To A Movie', 'The Way That I Found You' and 'Jet Age' capture the exotic Teutonic soul of 'Don't You Want Me' or 'The Model' while sounding thrillingly modern.

It's heady stuff, that fans of Serge Gainsbourg, Nick Cave, Scott Walker and anyone else that's ever sung miserable songs in a rumpled suit will be at home with. [10 Jun 2006, p.43]

Forget all the baggage, this is just a band in a room, and the noise they make is thrilling.

Ignore the flippant title, there’s material on ‘The Rest’ that could have fought hard for space on their debut album.

This is a beautiful album, informed as much her bold experimental music as by her golden age pop forebears. The record ends where it began, but Natalie Mering continues to push tirelessly and boldly ahead.

It’s a fan-pleasing record that’s actually more Beach Boys than peak Beatles.

Everything from psych-jazz, electro-funk, soulful house and the occasional rocker gets a look in here. In lesser hands it’s a right old mess, but not in Howard’s.

At times the sisters risk being bogged down by a certain two-dimensionality, but they prove there’s more to them than a sparkling glumness with ‘My Silver Lining.’

Yes, this is a mixtape of other people's tunes, like you've made in your bedroom dozens of times before. But it isn't nostalgia, it's very 2012.

‘Morning Pageants’ is a thought-provoking and totally unique body of work, one that will likely continue to inspire and confound as much as its subject.

A remarkable album... like an Americana 'OK Computer.' [22 Jan 2005, p.49]

By overtly embracing radio pop, Gameshow adds further froth to the wave of popified guitar music that TDCC triggered by giving rise to Bastille and The 1975. That they do it with such panache, melody and inventive edge will further inspire this new synthetic indie strain to hold themselves to higher artistic standards and maybe even become a full-blown genre worth worshipping. Until then, here’s what they could have won.

This is one helluva party LP.

Though the pain she’s exploring here is less immediate and stinging than the thwack of being screwed over, it’s explored just as expertly.

‘God Games’ serves as a testament to their new era, one that sees them push each other out of their comfort zones and explore new ways to keep adapting their iconic sound, providing a grand and edgy comeback that is as fresh as can be.

Consistently brilliant, ‘Side B’ might be a collection of offcuts but this is the sort of record that most acts could only dream of making.

This is a reunited band making music to rival their very best. There’s airmiles aplenty in these Essex Dogs yet.

Majestic in its scale, but traditional in its subject matter and narratives, Western Stars is a wonderful thing.

Most tracks last over five minutes and the longest comes in at 12. It gives the impression that Toledo is doing what he wants and making the music he wants to hear. You can’t help but love him for it.

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.

The Lana Del Rey-featuring ‘Alma Mater’ is another prime example of the Bleachers genius, ‘Tiny Moves’’ glistening undercurrent sounds like a sprinkle of magic, and ‘Jesus Is Dead’’s whispered indie rock assessment of New York micro-scenes and life in a band is pure gold. In those moments – a large chunk of this album – any hint of fatigue is blasted away, Antonoff’s presence a welcome one once again.

It's fair to say that with so much going on 'Contra' is much less immediate than its predecessor, requiring a bit of patience to uncover its true shades, contours and charm. But it's certainly worth sticking with, because with their second album Vampire Weekend have escaped their collegiate niche without sacrificing their true essence.

From the crisp, hip-hop accenting on the drums to the full-bodied bass and vivd synths, Currents is an audiophile’s wet dream.

Overwhelmingly, it all adds up to an album that will never make a fuss in your collection, but every now and then you'll remember how much you love it.

If The Strange Boys were Brits, you get the impression they'd officially be a big deal by now.

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.

Luna isn’t for the faint-hearted, fashion-conscious or dull-witted. Kooks fans seeking a challenge should keep exploring the outer reaches of The Fratellis’ oeuvre. But for people after a patchouli-scented patchwork of thought-provoking musicality, The Aliens have landed.

Unravelling fresh surprises with each listen, ‘I Love The New Sky’ is the sort of immersive cult-pop experience that should break the ‘trending’ column in its own right.

‘Kitchen Sink’ is ultimately rooted in the vague flicker of hopefulness and compassion that Shah embodies so often, and so skilfully; though it dispels the myth that it’s possible to be the woman who truly has it all, she embraces choice, rewriting narratives and multitudes instead.

As airbrushed as an Athena poster, 'Alphabetical' is nonetheless an emotional experience. [19 Jun 2004, p.57]

Dave Grohl and Pat Smear both make cameos on the record, but high profile guests aren’t the album’s high point. That accolade goes to the gentle soft rock triumph of ‘Raspberries’, the shred-happy ‘Pieces of the Puzzle’ and the piledriving, ’70s-era Aerosmith ballad ‘Too Far Gone To See’.

Har Mar's best effort to date. [4 Sep 2004, p.72]

‘Flowers for Vases/descansos’ rakes back the debris and leaves Hayley Williams exposed. Sowing new seeds, it’s an approach that reaps rewards.

You certainly won't hear much else at the moment as inventive as this.

The detail of individual tracks is almost irrelevant, as the album drifts from sunrise strings to rise-and-fall synths to piano notes as delicate as foals taking their first steps. But it creates an undeniably compelling whole.

This time round, the humour is more subtle but the observations on life, and increasingly death, are no less keen.

McRae is evidently still wrestling with her ambitions. ‘Think Later’, however, contains enough intrigue to suggest that this is the work of an artist finally honing their identity, dancing and sparkling all the way.

Comprising of 14 scorching, razor-sharp vignettes – some scarcely a minute long – this is the sound of a songwriter standing on the top of their mountain, chest puffed-out and giving it the biggun’. Those confrontational moments are spiky and fun.

A joyous and compassionate return, ‘Real Power’ proves that Gossip’s clear-headed maturity has ensured they achieve its titular sentiment.

There’s some fatigue while listening to the slower tracks like ‘Shine Your Light For We’ – turning his laidback style into something mind-numbing, but these moments are pretty rare. .... Without special guests this time around, he doubles down on what he does best: directing the dancefloor with precision, patience and pure instinct.

With ‘Stereo Mind Game’, Daughter marks a new era of tending to sorrow instead of dwelling in it, where the band wading into new wider ranges of emotion without leaving behind the rich orchestration and poetic lyricism they’re known for.

The band operate in the same art-pop playground as bands like alt-J and Field Music, with guitars popping and chiming over Andrew Thompson and Bryn Jenkins’ rhythms, only taking a moment to change the pace for tracks like ‘Out to Get You’, with its prettily plucked pastoral guitar strings and close, breathy vocals, and ‘Smorgasbord’, which makes sparing use of anguished, weeping piano notes.

For now, Haim are a rock band who've made one of the best pop albums you'll hear all year.

Citing Prince and OutKast as touchstones, the record has a sun-damaged feel that envelopes the darker material without washing it out.

It's unquestionably a beautiful (debut) album, and one that may be well-timed.

There are many ways to find solace in the unstable world we live in, and The Lookout is Veirs’ quietly optimistic manifesto.

Art Brut haven’t made the record that’ll reverse their gradual slide back towards cult. But they have at least made the one that’ll make the cult even more fervent.

‘Welcome To Bobby’s Motel’ sees them flexing their muscles and trying to find their own space within it, all while having a hell of a lot of fun along the way. By the end, you’re desperate to find out just who Bobby is and how on earth you can beg, steal or borrow to spend a night in that mysterious motel.

Always inventive, often beautiful and occasionally totally sublime, Mew have always stood out from the pack, and this latest--with producer Rich Costey back on board--sees them raise the bar that extra inch higher.

Spencer.’s gift is in how he has made a coming-of-age album on his own self-assured terms. His observations on how love can both crumble and blossom within a city as storied as New York are immediate and self-aware – and most importantly – endearingly hopeful.

In 2021, Low aren’t merely playing rock music gently and slowly: now they’re attempting to rewrite the language of the genre.

Opener ‘Black Country Gothic’ captures the spirit of the Midlands duo’s debut and whole aesthetic. Your shouty punk lads and talky artsy bands are 10-a-penny, but there’s a bluesy depth here.

Album number three from Just Mustard is a more three-dimensional, glorious noise – reaching for euphoria while capturing the rollercoaster of comedowns and the spaces in between; driving melody through the malaise on a psych-driven neon bullet train.

There’s new confidence here, and a sense that she’s stretching herself musically and lyrically.

Cosentino announced her solo debut the same day Best Coast announced their “indefinite hiatus”. It was a bold move, but judging by the fruits of ‘Natural Disaster’, it was worth it.

Reflektor is cleaner, sharper and dancier than anything the band have done before.

Comparisons to SK will doubtless arise but the production here is sparser, with more focus on intricate oddities.

Wander no more, Lanegan. It’s clear to see that, with Soulsavers, you’ve found salvation.

It's a brave and curious record that, as on 'Bugs', occasionally resembles Willie Nelson fronting Labradford.

'Kiss...' operates on a level of perversity, honesty and originality that blows most bands out of the water.

The tunes he’s releasing are fresh and exciting.

‘ELE 2’ finds Busta Rhymes reseated at hip-hop’s top table – until the world comes to an end, of course.

Positively overflowing with magnificent oddities. [1 Jul 2006, p.36]

Kehlani’s self-titled fifth album is a satisfying time capsule of R&B which leans into nostalgia and celebrates how far the singer has come.

If it doesn't quite scale the dizzy heights of 'The Holy Bible' or 'Everything Must Go', it certainly comes close and is, in many ways, the quintessential Manics album - the cathartic regeneration that the band really needed in order to become relevant again.

‘Temporary Highs In The Violet Skies’ doesn’t broaden Aalegra’s sound or lyrical content greatly, and there are certainly points where she could push things further forward. But in continuing to be so open and expressive about love, hope, and loss, she makes it feel possible for the rest of us.

Hymn feels like the imaginary soundtrack to the film inside your head and is an outstanding work of epic beauty.

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

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.

Lyrical gloom aside, though, 'Exciter' sounds like a band not just revitalised but reassembled from scratch. Not many long-running groups could make an album this fresh and confident in their 20th year, never mind one which bridges timeless soulman crooning and underground techno.

The duo have used their total creative freedom to make an album which doesn’t sound like the last one, exactly, but doesn’t concern itself with the supposed importance of ‘progression’ either.

It's The Game's candour that is his unbridled strength. [29 Jan 2005, p.59]

He’s mastered this stylistic skittishness and you’ll do well to find much dispute about his talent.

Having spent 11 years away from the studio, The Hives zapped straight back into the only mode they know: pure pandemonium. It’s about time new generations received this healthy dose of old school Hives, packed with the same intensity, goofiness – and of course, the matching black and white suits.