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 results are varied, but this is just one frame of a much bigger picture of Jin’s solo career – one where he will undoubtedly continue to grow and prosper the more he leans into what suits him best.

‘Addison’ is bold, expressive, and catchy as hell, and with little overt biography, it’s completely personal in its craftsmanship.

The album constantly reaches out to the pop world: exploring how hardcore might form the basis for something technicolour, playful and accessible. That attitude towards the genre, as capable of mass appeal and ripe for experimentation, is what powers this excellent album.

‘More’ is everything you’d want a Pulp album to be, made richer from some lived experience.

Here, Simz is stripped to the root, healing in real time. Raw, flawed and deeply human – this is what blooming really sounds like.

‘Caroline 2’ marks a fully fleshed-out blueprint for a Caroline 2.0: a well-refined octet pushing musical boundaries in their most dazzling release to date.

So while ‘Something Beautiful’ probably isn’t Cyrus’s most hit-packed album, it does feel like a fully realised artistic statement. This post-genre pop star has pulled off another pretty big swing.

We are now seeing the band like never before. Not only are they showcasing some of their most intriguing and impactful material, but they’re also paving the way into a hopeful new chapter.

Sonically, it’s a step up from the guitar-driven mayhem that characterised their roots, without just slapping some synths on top like many of their indie counterparts. In reality, they’ve never sounded closer to that wacky, eccentric live band down your local on a Friday night – and maybe that’s where their truest form lies.

When Wretch said ‘Home?’ would be “soul food”, he wasn’t kidding. It goes beyond that, becoming a testament to the strength of roots that refuse to wither and a promise that – no matter where you are in the world – you can always find a piece of home in this record.

‘Sincerely,’ sometimes meanders – six woozy minutes of ‘Lose My Cool’ is too much – but more often, it matches the dreamy intimacy of Uchis’ stunning 2020 smash ‘Telepatía’. Here, her music shimmers with confidence even when her lyrics hint at deep-rooted insecurities.

‘Even In Arcadia’ shatters any pressure of expectation into oblivion, building on the bravery of its predecessor, sonically, while its lyrics reveal the most exposed version of Vessel we’ve seen yet. From Eden to Arcadia – and beyond – let the worship continue.

She’s no longer content with being the elusive girl behind the screen, proving she can shapeshift, push boundaries and still keep us hooked – all in under 20 minutes.

Still as sharp and impactful [as 2023's self-titled debut] but focused more on the spaces in between her stories than the plots themselves.

We already knew Samia was a sublime songwriter, but on her third album, she sets a new bar – and then some.

Matching Murphy’s career-best lyrics are some of the rest of the band’s most eclectic compositions.

Through a rich exploration of genres and a new level of emotional depth, it becomes clear that ‘Skeletá’ was made with a new vision in mind, and comes as the promising start of a new Ghost chapter.

In the end, ‘More Chaos’ does exactly what it says on the tin: it’s overloaded, aggressive, and unruly – and that’s the point.

Though ‘Send A Prayer My Way’ doesn’t always grip you with the immediacy of either Baker or Scott’s respective solo careers, it’s still refreshing to hear two very well-established songwriters exploring such distinct new territory together.

Though this is not Bon Iver’s answer to ‘Brat’ summer by any stretch of the imagination, many of these same existential questions also linger on ‘SABLE, fABLE’ – a record that grapples with his own identity as much as it does the twists and turns of life. Though some fans feared this might well be an epilogue to the Bon Iver project, it comes across as more of a rebirth.

Admittedly, many of the techniques Skrillex uses in his transitions haven’t aged well. There are only so many sped-up snares and risers you can listen to without thinking of that one Lonely Island sketch (or this hilarious Soundcloud mix). But the drops are so worth it – and in a post-hyperpop world, it’s even more impressive that they still manage to make so much impact, like on the long-awaited ‘Voltage’, or the grinding halftime banger ‘San Diego VIP’.

‘Star’ is his most cinematic and widescreen work yet. Clean, cavernous sound design directs all attention to his speak-sing drawl, while ear-candy sampling – such as the pitter-patter of rainfall and indulgent vrooooooms of a race car – makes for effective world-building.

There’s a fresh warmth to ‘Forever, Howlong’, but don’t mistake that for sonic pathetic fallacy. The pregnant protagonist of ‘Nancy Tries To Take The Night’ has one of the most devastating narrative arcs on the record; the combination of banjo and nylon guitar makes for such an unusually rich tone for the band, bolstered by Hyde’s sonorous alto that grounds the song.

Akpro’s debut is a dark, winding ode to the UK capital, grounded in his own experiences and expressed with a subtle mystery. This sense of nuance – often missing so early in an artist’s journey – makes for one absolutely captivating listen.

In an album full of surprises, though, it’s the last track that will catch most listeners unawares: a cover of My Bloody Valentine’s ‘Sometimes’. The shoegaze original buried its words underneath abundant layers of guitars, but from SPELLLING, lines like “You can’t hide from the way I feel” resound with a limitless echo.

‘Lonely People with Power’ could perhaps have used a little pruning. For the most part, though, it stands as a testament to the power not just of forging your own lane, but becoming master of it, too.

Though longing and mortality have long been recurring themes in Dacus’ music, the stakes feel even higher – and even more gripping – when there’s so much to lose.