There have been plenty of albums borne out of the pandemic (Swift’s ‘Folklore’ era) and some whose recording wrapped up before it all went to pot (Dua Lipa’s ‘Future Nostalgia’), but few bridge the gap between the old and new world quite like ‘Who Am I?’ The band capture their optimism of a new life worth living, but never shy away laying bare the challenges of doing so in times like these.

An album that sounds like it was written as a soundtrack to the best film never made. [20 Jan 2007, p.31]

Heavier, harder and with a lot more clout about them, Circa Waves’ return is finally something you can believe in.

More than anything else, there’s a feeling that Dig Out Your Soul might actually be their best album in over a decade. In other words, not quite the fabled, oft-promised “Best one since fookin’ "Definitely Maybe!"" but certainly the best one since fookin’ "...Morning Glory."

here’s no doubting that the beats on Mastermind, as you would expect from a production roster including Kanye West, Jake One, JUSTICE League and The Weeknd, are exceptional, lush and bombastic and full of zaftig soul samples. So, really, it’s all down to Rick and whether he shows up. And he does.

Like Cyrus, it’s shameless, strange and supremely entertaining.

Ultimately, ‘Abomination’ feels like the first leap Lynks has taken into showing all their dimensions as an artist. It’s a refreshing change of pace to hear them not just deliver club classics, but also let their spiky persona begin to soften a little. .... The result is a thrilling, moving, life-affirming listen.

‘Archaic Revival’ is the centre-point though; nine minutes of tension-gripped, creeping bass and echoed mantras, its queasiness adds a weight of darkness to this mesmerising trip.

They’ve [experimental sonics] been added to the steadfast elements that make The National so good: clever turns of phrase, genius storytelling, Bryan Devendorf’s marching-band drums, delightful arrangements and piano and brass that work well together.

On his last musical hurrah, Glover has made a record as otherworldly as his other outings. Yet, ‘Bando Stone and The New World’ stumbles slightly – where its sonic variety is exciting, it lacks a clear sense of cohesion or theme compared to his previous work – making it a bittersweet farewell to the legend of Childish Gambino.

America Give Up is, quite simply, an effortlessly brilliant debut.

For the most part, Peace have made their 'difficult' second album look surprisingly straightforward.

A fine mix of fantasy and reality, made by a band who never run out of ideas, sung by a singer too smart to fall apart and too excited by rock’n’roll to stop being stupid.

Adhering closely to the template of Daft Punk’s two seminal live albums, crowd noise is mixed high, becoming another instrument as it responds to every hook with a spine-tingling roar.

It’s as nasty a little thing as it sounds, yet, for all the ugliness that spills out of Eagulls, they’re never anything less than vital; these are anthems for a doomed youth determined to kick against the pricks rather than mope forlornly and fruitlessly.

The risk here pays dividends. It’s their most ambitious and cohesive album to date and embracing their shoegaze selves brings renewal: for a band known for torment and chaos, it’s a joy to hear them sounding so hopeful.

Highly ambitious and original stuff, created in aid of the Scottish Love In Action charity.

Blue Roses, you see, is less Nash and more Bush, a dizzyingly beautiful set of delicate folk songs that sound like they’ve been sprinkled with pixie dust and reincarnated from some perfect bygone age.

Smith Westerns might not play barre chords, but they're properly good songwriters – smart kids with mean tunes, sharp minds and great record collections.

Equally, those who delighted in unravelling ["Phylactery Factory"]knotty, brilliant album will emerge dazed and blinking into the wide spaces and sweet melodies of Kairos.

This is an album that shimmers with warmth and cautious optimism from start to finish.

By removing the safety net of her debut and baring herself both musically and lyrically on album two, Jay Som has not only become a better songwriter, but now feels like an important one too. The messages on ‘Anak Ko’ are worth lending a close ear to.

The music shambles between arid Americana and early Strokes pep, but ultimately it’s Chapman’s grizzled longing that enchants.

Overall, there’s enough rock star swagger here to live vicariously through, and the sense that the Joshua Tree party will ride again for years to come. So crack open that fancy bottle and let your hair down.

'Sung Tongs' brought a smattering of organization to the band's chaos, and now 'Feels' finally sees them emerge, blinking, into the sunlight. [15 Oct 2005, p.35]

Sharp pop moments shine brighter than some of the weaker ballads that pad out the lengthy tracklist. Yet ‘The Rise And Fall Of A Midwest Princess’ is a display of Roan’s bold and brazen pen, where she places searing revelations alongside some deliciously cheeky choruses.

It skilfully combines Neil Young’s dusty American songcraft with scratchy lo-fi and wandering electronic influences.

Bieber appears to have rediscovered his mojo, resulting in one of his most focused projects to date.

Ridiculously ambitious--and often plain ridiculous--Tasmania dances its way to impending doom.

It's Guided By Voices' finest work since 2001's 'Isolation Drills'

Many have tried to recreate the vibrancy and laidback groove of vintage soul-pop, but to absolutely nail it you need to be someone truly cosmic. Amy Winehouse just about managed it, and Matthew E White is one other such person.

This year’s first great pop record bowls in with a rapturous celebration of the genre's rebellious, trashy potential (and a bottle of champagne and a pocketful of pills to boot).

12 years after the tracks ‘Obsessions’ and ‘Mowgli’s Road’ introduced us to a singular musical talent, Marina’s melodies and vocal hooks still don’t sound like anybody else’s.

With a Balearic pulse and horizontal attitude throughout, this record is ready-made sunshine--MDMAzing pretension-free fun for the masses. This is the album we need in these hard times, even if we don’t deserve it. Put this record on, dance until sunrise, gurn through Brexit and rave until war is over.

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.

Slay-Z is a blast. What sets Banks apart from her peers is her ability to bounce effortlessly between genres.

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

The band have covered all bases this time; pushing themselves to experiment while still celebrating what makes their music so catchy and compelling.

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

The glorious quirks and inventiveness of Let’s Eat Grandma’s earlier work might be amiss on ‘Two Ribbons’, but its immediacy will likely win them new fans. This is the stirring sound of reinvigoration in the face of loss.

IX sees the Texans at their most focused and thrilling.

It's easy enough just to drift off and let these tracks gently massage your eardrums like a hover of trained hummingbirds. But if you choose to look beneath the surface, each track audibly vibrates with ideas.

Go Go... is a delight, and much less agitated once it's settled down.

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

Luckily, no amount of squelchy beats, dubstep bass, trip-hop crackles and gabba breakdowns can suppress their effervescent sense of melody.

After this increasing headway, Ivy Tripp is slicker than its predecessors, but Crutchfield’s emotional rawness hasn’t been glossed over.

Clearly, Houghton's found fertile ground in connecting with her inner rage monster, but there's a different side to the album too: anthemic glam rock reminiscent of Bowie's work with guitarist Mick Ronson.

It’s a deft, heartfelt and above all personal record that pays fitting tribute to Jara’s immense legacy, all the while providing a platform for some of Bradfield’s finest songwriting in recent years.

Escapism’s one thing, but we need artists to sneer at the stars and sing songs about the gutter, and right now no-one does it like Sleaford Mods.

This is a fine record and you can add an extra point to the score if your stereo cost over a grand.

Gemma and Sophie Bakerwood and Louise Croft exploring electronica, with deep synth tones, crunching glitch and, on ‘Divided By Surfaces And Silence’ and ‘Skip To The End’, flickers of drum ‘n’ bass. Wordless, sighing vocals grace the semi-acoustic techno of ‘Hearts Not Parts’, the trio’s voices rushing through the gaps in the instrumental wash.

In the disarray of anxiety, touring and being thrust into the unrelenting bright light of fame, Chatten found a semblance of balance by channelling acute discomfort into a stirring, spotless debut, and what he excavated from the biting darkness is not only beautiful but promising.

It takes a pretty special type of artist to release 11 zip files of music for free, follow that up with three albums within a year and still pique your interest when a new release crosses the doorstep. But such is the way of Wiley.

Black Midi will almost definitely never make easily digestible or understandable music – they’re probably as excited and confused about where they’re heading next as we are – but to focus on the finer points and try to make sense of it would be to miss the overall point of the band. Simply going down the rabbit hole with these deeply weird, brilliant musicians will never be less than exhilarating.

Despite the numerous directions ‘Greatest Hits’ charges off in and the many styles they splice together, this album never feels like bad cover versions.

‘Back In Love City’ refutes that assumption [being past their prime] emphatically, presenting instead a band still at their very best and still brimming with ideas, invention and – most importantly – a knack for writing great songs.

Each idea is significantly different from the last and this latest album is an immersive look at the grizzly realities of millions.

Post-mainstream breakthrough, Oxnard is a deft dissection of the fallout, just as free-ranging and hopeful as you’d imagine.

A rush job, perhaps, but it’s still the sound of three guys having the time of their lives.

This project is sure to surprise fans with its unique sensibility, further showcasing how difficult it is to constrict the artist into any specific genre. Chaz borrows multiple elements to create something wholly unique, skating through sounds to create a genre pastiche to suit every taste.

Factor in some brilliant shards of melody in songs like 'Clearing', 'Call Across Rooms' and 'Holding' and Ruins becomes an unexpected gem: that rare album that reels you in without even trying.

A relentlessly positive record that acts as an inclusive antidote for our increasingly divisive times.

Cocoa Sugar isn’t a filtered version of what came before. Instead, it cements their status as riled-up oddballs determined to reinvent the wheel.

Lyrically, then, it’s a record characterised by its pessimism, yet musically it’s among their most joyful.

A brilliant, invigorating reintroduction.

She may not have written the words, but Björk's emotional investment in songs like 'I've Seen It All' (really sad) and 'Scatterheart' (really really sad) is undeniable; making this album - 'in character' as poor, doomed Selma - totally seductive as A Björk Record.

Beneath The Eyrie is still arguably their most consistent body of work since their 2004 reformation and certainly their most inventive in 28 years. What a spooky surprise – that this incarnation of Pixies would turn out to be such a dark, dark horse.

Across a leisurely hour, the slow double bass pull of ‘Broken Wave (A Blues For Doogie)’, the deadpan spoken word and pattering steel drums of ‘Guy Fawkes’ Signature’ and the chatty lyricism on cuckolding regret ‘The Very, Very Best’ stand out, but it’s all golden.

He wields the Liverpool Philharmonic Orchestra as deftly as he did his spliff-stained six-string.

This is easily their most expansive work yet--a continued exploration of the beauty in brutality.

At 16 tracks ‘The New Toronto 3’ could be accused of being overlong, but it is an immersive experience, a deep dive into Lanez’s psyche.

36 minutes and three tracks of rich, enveloping, meditative heaviness.

Real Hair works like a oujia board: dangerous, addictive fun with the potential for unwelcome answers.

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.

Obviously this isn’t a ‘Definitely Maybe’ or ‘The Stone Roses’ – no-one could touch those hook-laden masterpieces. As a triumph of style and mood, though, ‘Liam Gallagher John Squire’ is well worthy of their enduring legacies.

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.

Metronomy Forever is, in many ways, remarkable: the band have proved their longevity and ability to reinvent, retool and still maintain their love and ability to pen stellar pop songs. We’re already looking forward the sequel.

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

It’s a bold move for The Coral to come out with something so intricate at this stage of their career, even taking the time to pen an accompanying book. But immerse yourself in this heavily themed epic and you’ll be rewarded with a nostalgic trip that showcases some of their most adventurous writing to date.

Every sentiment on Novelist Guy is deeply felt.

I Speak Because I Can remains a stunning performance to leave haircuts and ex-boyfriends alike trailing in its wake.

Bold, brash and brilliant, this is Charli XCX at her most genuine, and it’s dazzling.

This is the sound of the US underground realising that its message is easier to swallow if it has a smile on its face. [9 Oct 2004, p.56]

‘The Girl Is Crying In Her Latte’ is a reminder that even now, Sparks are completely content with boldly going first, taking their music into ambitious territory no one else has been before, making it easier for other acts to (hopefully) follow suit.

I’m A Dreamer is another stellar effort.

A slippery, intoxicating listen. The production and songwriting feel looser and more experimental, liberated from the weight of carrying heavy narratives or nostalgia. When elements appear unfamiliar, Vynehall guides them into similar worlds like he’s just cracked the next piece of the puzzle.

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.

It’s a David Byrne album. Which is to say: it’s melodic, goofy and very quirky.

It’s her most mature, vivid work yet – and would be impressive from an artist of any age.

Only on ‘Nice To Be Dead’ does he veer into heavy guitar territory, but it fits seamlessly into the mix, making for not just his strangest set in years, but also his best.

‘SUGAREGG’ is confident and assured.

If you’re a fan of this stuff – powerful, bruising, operatic, performed with absolutely no sense of irony whatsoever – then there’s no question that Sabaton are amongst the best of the best. ... This is the album that could take Sabaton upwards.

Goswell's voice... is a rich wonder in itself; and unlike every other singer-songwriter in the world, she sounds nothing like Nick Drake! [26 Jun 2004, p.55]

[A] curiously eclectic record.

Whether dabbling in light or dark, the Nottingham trio are never anything short of exhilarating.

A demented, disjointed, delicious-as-human-rump-steak modern classic. [23 Oct 2004, p.49]

Just as ‘BE’ cycles through the various ever-changing moods the pandemic has made a constant in our lives, it’s also finds the band constantly moving between genres, each attempt a triumph.

At once experimental and familiar enough to keep his stunning second act on course, ‘C’mon You Know’ finds Liam Gallagher having his cake and eating it – and there’s plenty to go round at this party.