‘Don’t Forget Me’ shines in its simplicity, with Ian Fitchuk (Kacey Musgraves, Stephen Sanchez) as the sole collaborator. Here, through a whole-hearted embrace of the folk, country and Western that underscored her upbringing, Rogers’ seems more at home than ever. Yet, ‘Don’t Forget Me’ exists as a meticulously crafted homage to the road trip.

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.

What you have in ‘This Could Be Texas’ is everything you want from a debut; a truly original effort from start to finish, an adventure in sound and words, and a landmark statement.

Gray’s newfound penchant for ’80s pop doesn’t come with a notion of irony – he’s fully embracing even the era’s most ostentatious elements. But despite his own sincerity, there are moments that drift closer towards a caricature of the era than a true homage to the decade’s most innovative pop.

Variety keeps things interesting, but it also allows the duo to flex their musical muscles, and they’ve traded in some of their previous blistering punk for a more relaxed pace on certain tracks, but without sacrificing any intensity.

Nothing on ‘A La Sala’ feels phoned-in or anonymous. Khruangbin occupy a unique lane that satisfies obsessive crate-diggers and casual festival-goers alike.

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

What they have done, though, is find their voice again, and, for the first time in over 20 years, The Libertines feel like a band with a viable future.

This is a pretty good Black Keys record that chiefly serves to underline how wedded they are to the fundamentals of their own process.

The production alone is noteworthy, painting a portrait of richness and precision that highlights Beyoncé’s peerless vocal range. .... It’s an undeniable thrill to see her swing so big on a project that dares her to be so intimate and vocal-focused, while making way for country’s up-and-comers too.

Viewed in isolation, ‘Heaven’ is a pretty sublime pop-punk record. Its little brother, ‘Hell’, yields more mixed results, continuing the metal-infused sound Sum 41 have veered towards in recent years.

What solidifies ‘Mother’ as an excellent debut is Poulter’s openness to embrace a myriad of influences, from UK funky to disco and ’90s house. To produce good dance music means keeping the sensations alive on the dancefloor; ‘Mother’ highlights the multiple ways the club can be enjoyed.

Through sheer faith and tenacity, Tyla anoints herself as South Africa’s brightest new star, reinforcing that amapiano was never a ‘moment’ – and only ever a true movement.

Returning with her sixth solo record ‘Bright Future’, the Big Thief frontwoman achieves a newfound lyrical self-assuredness here.

With this vulnerable yet versatile collection, Shakira shows there are no limits to the art of her catharsis through song.

‘Audio Vertigo’ is their best record in years, and one to blow the cobwebs off some sleepy arenas this summer.

These songs offer a more adult and grounded perspective than ones like ‘Lone Star Lake’ and ‘Evil Spawn’; they’re about the person who feels like home rather than the one who gets your blood pumping. It’s a nice counterweight that feels emblematic of ‘Tigers Blood’ — it’s a burning fire, and it’s a warm summer evening at once.

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

Musgraves’ assertiveness feels like a real glimmer of light amid the sparse compositions that run through this thoughtful, imperfect, down-to-earth record.

Clocking in at a slither under 77 minutes, ‘Everything I Thought It Was’ is a slog enlivened by some surprising moments.

Playful and sincere, mature but childlike, featherlight and occasionally heavy, this assured record sees Whack pull off a Jenga-like balancing act.

It’s the most sophisticated project yet from a preternaturally talented vocalist who keeps getting better. Whatever you take away from it, ‘Eternal Sunshine’ definitely isn’t an album you’ll want to wipe from memory.

Not all of these experiments quite come off: the industrial clang of ‘It’s Dark Inside’, on which she drawls, “they don’t teach clit in school / Like do Lit”, veers close to ‘Yeezus’ parody. It’s notable, though, how contemporary her distorted art-punk sounds.

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.

Where’s My Utopia?’ marks an outlandish yet assertive second chapter for Yard Act, going toe-to-toe with the peculiar world that we find ourselves in.

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.

This record is the perfect display of how to make grown rap music without soiling a legacy that has taken decades to build. If this evolution continues, Ghetts may finally produce the classic album that has escaped him thus far.

A career-best statement of Shah’s songwriting prowess, where inner struggles are rendered with maturity and relatability, supercharged by a fearless, expansive sonic palette.