An album that’s packed with dry wit and choppy, off-kilter energy, but one that’s lyrically far better suited to a darker, post-#MeToo world.

An album that, lacking the neatly redemptive arc of 'good kid, mAAd city', is also grand and slightly unwieldy.

Guiding you on a whistlestop tour of his life, community and resultant beliefs, the record serves not only as a statement of identity, but also an indication of the sprawling possible paths for his career to grow into.

One could, incorrectly, mistake this for a Danielle Haim solo album: her lyrics pull no punches, and her voice is even more the band’s centre of gravity. But when Alana sings her first full lead vocal in the band’s discography, on the Arthur Russell-inspired disco cut ‘Spinning’, and Este takes the spotlight on the synth-country ballad ‘Cry’, they’re both revelations – vulnerable like they’ve never been before.

The Brooklyn-based quintet traverse an unplaceable pop-era on grooves, prog chops and a spellbinding ennui, sounding effortless throughout.

It's this eclectic intensity which makes TV On The Radio such a vital prospect. [5 Jun 2004, p.55]

Poet Toi Derricotte once wrote that joy is in fact an “act of resistance”: listening to Monáe’s liberating latest album, you start to believe that pleasure is, too.

Stormzy came out swinging for his second album – it’s big, it’s broad and it is mostly brilliant.

It’s not quite picture perfect, but ‘Seeking Thrills’ is Georgia’s jubilant and insightful document of the life that moves under the disco lights.

With Simon Taylor-Davies' walloping guitar scree lancing through it, it also sounds distinctly like the work of four individuals who have transcended the genre-meld they spearheaded when new rave broke in 2007 and become a great British band.

As slippery and unpredictable as ever, this Courting record is indie music for pop fans and pop music for indie fans – there’s enough for everyone to take a bite.

It all adds up to a job well done with more than enough bops to drown out her next social media controversy.

On an album that rarely shakes off its shroud of unease, Suuns paint a pretty bleak picture of all our tomorrows, but their own dazzling Futur looks assured.

It was a risky move, switching from conscious R&B star to grungy punk beau, but WILLOW has knocked all doubts out of the park – again.

Trilling’s lyrics are the glue that holds together this powerful but vulnerable album.

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.

It’s sickeningly impressive. Yes, Coxon’s stormed through the Davey Graham Advanced Finger-Picking Guide but he hasn’t forgotten to flip it over and write some of his best ever songs.

Every so often a new band will arrive clamouring that guitar music isn’t dead, as if they’re mid-CPR. Yak have crash-landed clutching its still-beating heart, wearing an irrepressible grin.

A Bad Wind is a meticulously crafted album.

Overall the album is a reassertion that when it comes to hard-pumping guitar'n'drums duos it's unjust that Steve and Laura-Mary are billed below the likes of The Kills on the big festival bill Sellotaped to God's fridge.

Far lighter than their grungey 2013 debut, 'Antipodes', it's pitched between the blissed-out guitar of Splashh and the idiosyncratic pop approach of fellow Kiwi, Unknown Mortal Orchestra.

‘iiiii’ floats up into the clouds – often pairing sparse plunks of piano with haunting choral vocals and snippets of ethereal sound design. Of all ‘Kick’s instalments, this one is the most meandering, focused on conjuring up an atmosphere, and living within it.

There's little musically that will startle the faithful or convert the doubtful, but the Present's gift was always for words. [12 Feb 2005, p.51]

Encasing the malaise and drudgery of the last two years and preserving them in dark grey ash, ‘Pompeii’ captures a distinct sense of isolation without explicitly spelling it out. There’s much to excavate here.

An excellent third album. [23 Sep 2006, p.31]

Mainman Anton Newcombe is now sober, and here has made his best album since 2003's '…And This Is Our Music'.

While ‘Pain To Power’ advances the harsh pairing of the saxophone with noise-rock that Maruja have already explored, its standout moments come through expressions of love – fulfilling Wilkinson’s on-stage promise.

Mangy Love would succeed even without lyrics. Produced leisurely with Rob Schnapf (Elliott Smith) and Dan Horne and featuring 21 extra musicians, this is McCombs’ richest ever recording. Sublime flourishes abound.