Ocasionally, the shtick does wear a little thin and they lope off towards water-treading mid-pace. The line between parody and genius is always going to be fine.

Producer Mark Ronson does an astounding job of taking them back to the Fab Five glory days of Rio.

As a whole it’s a bold, beautiful and uncompromising record.

The record is littered with painstakingly layered guitar parts, mellifluous melodies and clapping drumbeats that nod to Russell’s posthumous collection ‘Love Is Overtaking Me’.

Here he summons the spirit of Zappa, Blackalicious and Gil Scott-Heron to stunning effect. But when he’s speeding through neighbourhoods of clownish rhyme schemes, alliterative gibberish and sped-up Mozart sonatas, you wish he’d take his foot off the pedal slightly.

Irrespective of the permanently changed world it’s now entering, Park Hye Jin’s second solo release demonstrates her confidence to create free from the confines of categorisation.

There is an admirable consistency to the production, and at its best Event II is touched by greatness.

Almost every part of it sounds sublime.

Laura Marling, six years Emmy’s junior, sounds far more worldly wise, and there’s a sense of naivety, rather than innocence, that stops the album being as Joni Mitchell as it thinks it is.

The album begins to lag toward the end as the slower tracks drag their heels, but it’s still an impressive debut.

‘As Long As You Are’ maybe an unexpected handbrake turn for Future Islands and it may not be as hit-laden as its predecessor, but it’s a refreshing record in its own right and one that throws up plenty of existential quandaries.

It’s a confident, cohesive return that sounds like Keem has stopped trying to prove he belongs, and started figuring out what he wants to say now that he’s here.

At one point, Presley claims, he and Le Bon used the sound of a frog’s ribbit for an instrument. It’s here where Hippo Lite verges towards sounding like music that was only ever made for its makers, rather than an outside audience. In a quest to discover simple living free of consequence, Le Bon and Presley can, at times, get lost in their own little bubble.

Blige’s enthusiasm is most powerful on Follow.

'Take Them On, On Your Own' is a masterpiece. You should get hold of it as soon as possible.

'Impeach My Bush' is no great sonic leap forward, but it is a near-perfect distillation of Peaches' "thing".

Grace is less a masterpiece than an escape, a memento of his charisma and charm more than a leap towards new horizons.

Gracious Tide stays with you like a dream you wish would keep recurring.

They could turn even the hardest kids at school into pissy wrecks with the elegant dread-heart blues of this, their fourth album.

It’s a beautifully crafted album, with Orlando’s lyrics their strongest ever.

'Life On Other Planets’ is about three-quarters of the great album everyone knows they can make.

Not likely to appeal to your common or garden new raver, but perfect with a nice cup of tea.

It's all strung together with punk-drunk pace and some properly good melodies. This is the real deal.

The anti-folk pioneer's sixth album for Rough Trade is a familiar comedy of errors, full of dusky textures with a sparkling hue of optimism.

This collection has a tantalising flavour, the sense of an alternative history of rock.

She sounds like she’s having a bathroom hairbrush-singing party to which we’re all invited. These are sweet sweet fantasies, baby.

It’s refreshing that his second is so subtle.

Bentham may have struggled writing this album, but the results exude confidence and ambition. Whilst it draws heavily on the slacker sounds of the 1990’s, Bentham brings the genre firmly into 2020 with her fresh take on what it’s like to create in a time where inspiration can be hard to find.