Despite its underwhelming second half, ‘Barbie’ is packed with a surprising diversity of sounds paying homage to the Mattel muse. The soundtrack has some wonderful highs and some miserable lows – but then again, it’s not all rosy in Barbie Land…

They have a way of transporting you to a precise moment or emotion. It’s why ‘The Ballad of Darren’ is so memorable and touching: you can feel it, everything, in every line sung or note played.

An elongated, yet joyous return from J Hus. Splintering the sonics between drill, dancehall, Afrobeat and hip-hop, he allows himself to explore more musical terrain than ever before, while the rapper channels his lyrical potency, struggles and romantic pursuits into one unified portrait.

The Timothée Chalamet-sampling ‘As If’ sees him defiant and refusing to change. With nods to homophobia and fentanyl addiction, it’s a modern take on bratty emo and the rest of Glaive’s debut album is just as complex.

‘IRL’ reflects a young woman fully becoming herself, not just confidently throwing her hands up but boldly letting her guard down too.

There is a sense that Lifeguard will only kick on from here, finding greater balance between the competing elements in their music while also growing in confidence when it comes to taking creative leaps.

Inspiration comes in a myriad of ways, and the talent must have the time to put these parts together and let them mature; it’s how we’ve ended up with an album as epic and impressive as this.

While the meaning part is sometimes tough to decipher – far more so than her previous work – it’s not the answer here that’s important but the journey. It takes a little time to immerse yourself in Harvey’s world, but once there, you won’t want to leave.

There are blasts of harshness (‘Go Ahead’’s fuzzed-out polemic, or ‘Scapegoat’’s bombastic crescendo) but ‘My Back Was A Bridge…’ is still, by some distance, the most accessible thing she’s ever made. Though much of its palette is drawn from ‘classic’ music of the past, however, the record’s brilliance lies in the way it doesn’t retreat from the present.

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 remains to be seen whether Do Nothing can use the solid foundations of ‘Snake Sideways’ as a launching pad to ascend to the giddy heights of their initial promise.

Dean may have not shed all of her growing pains, but ‘Messy’ ultimately does everything a debut should, uniting multiple stories with a clear, radiant voice.

This is a special record by a band who are not-so-quietly raising the bar for the whole British scene.

If Bain’s lyrics are poised to pull you one way on ‘In The End It Always Does’, her voice and instrumentals yank you back in the other direction – it’s disorientating, dizzying and utterly intoxicating.

‘Melodies On Hiatus’, adopts the same spaciousness of the territory it was created in, allowing Hammond Jr to spiral and sprawl out sonically. ‘Melodies On Hiatus’ may seem meandering at times, but eventually it lands where it needs to be.

‘Feed The Beast’ is a tremendously entertaining showcase for a pop star who can go deep when she wants to, but is also smart enough to understand the visceral thrill of dumb escapism.

This is a powerful, memorable collection. Accessible from the get-go, ‘Life Under The Gun’ carries a universal message while staying true to its hardcore roots.

Another blistering, brilliant missive from one of rock’s most fearless bands, on ‘Social Lubrication’, Dream Wife prove two things. Firstly, social commentary and exorcising your fury at the world don’t have to be joyless, and secondly, they’re still one of the most vital acts we’ve got right now.

‘ÁTTA’ is at least the band’s best album since 2005’s monolithic ‘Takk’ made them a household name, and at most a record that gives Sigur Rós plenty more reason to exist in adding some pure and natural soul to this cold and unfeeling world.

They’ve pitched their comeback between an emotional exorcism for Homme, but with enough fan-service for the die-hards; this is up there with their darkest, knottiest material to date, and will be appreciated all the more for it.

Presented as a 96-minute opera, his fourth studio album is a haughty gesture weighed down by its own folly, scanning instead as pathos.

The boundaries for African music are constantly moving, and across this album, Amaarae pushes them even further.

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.

‘Joy’All’ proves that she’s maturing into one of pop’s foremost storytellers.

If Squid can make daring, experimental music sound as fun as this, then they will take some stopping.

It’s another tension that helps to define ‘Girl With Fish’ — a sense that nothing holds so much weight that it can’t be taken elsewhere in the next moment. While that idea perhaps keeps these songs from being as memorable as they could be, it does occasionally work, shaping the album into a really nice cut of slacker-noise.

This collaborative foray successfully breaks new ground in terms of Marshall’s solo work, further ensuring that ‘Space Heavy’ will assume a lofty standing in King Krule’s already glowing discography.

Protomartyr are at home here: growing, expanding and putting up a mirror to humanity’s driest and bleakest parts, inviting their listeners to reflect on it all.