By turns anthemic, experimental and boldly poptastic, Forever Neverland hits multiple grooves, proving she’s a fascinating, multifaceted musician in her own right. As an artist, she’s much more than someone to lean on.

If there’s a criticism of Broken Politics, it perhaps that the record doesn’t broadcast this voice often enough.

Ultimately, this is just a rock album that does exactly what it says on the tin. They are head-banging, pitch-altering rock songs that may not change the world right away, but they’ll give yer head a little wobble at the very least.

It’s only on the closing ‘Money Money’ that he sounds like any sort of rebel at all, upping the pace dramatically for a chunk of smoke-spewing Motörhead ‘battle rock’, railing against the seditious lure of materialism.

Sometimes, on Magick Songs, you may wish they would--there’s a little alienating insularity here, but it’s still inspiring to see the band follow their instincts.

Confident, relevant and full of gorgeous instrumentation, Ella Mai’s debut proves that she is more than worth the hype.

This is Tom Morello: Unfiltered, the work of a rap-rock renegade who answers to no-one, exploring new terrain well into the third decade of his career, an artist unwilling to rest on his legacy.

For all its fast-paced absurdness, Love Is Magic carves out quiet moments, too. These tiny, rare diamonds stud a world that can so often feel completely evil. It’s a balancing act that Grant ultimately pulls off.

Davidson’s Working Class Woman is smart, intriguing and deserves to be heralded as one of the year’s most inventive releases--Lord knows she’s worked hard enough for it.

Trench is the sound of a band ratcheting up the ambition without ever being pulled down by an undertow of pretentiousness. It’s more low-key than ‘Blurryface’, but ultimately more rewarding.

The band now merges genres confidently and coolly, creating carefree indie pop tracks, yet always reserving a seat for their rock band roots.

Overall though, A Star is Born is one of the best Hollywood soundtracks of recent years. Far from being Oscar bait, these are songs that could feasibly shine on their own--and ones that feel entirely believable.

This album is a quiet triumph, the understated work of an artist honouring herself and her creativity.

There’s almost something for everyone on Dose Your Dreams, and, thankfully, that eclectic aspect to Fucked Up’s most ambitious project yet means it leans more towards opus than hopeless.

It may not be the most exciting project to be released by the singer, but it’s complexity and composition make for a perfect power-down playlist.

The misogyny of Tha Carter V cheapens its moving moments.

This is not his finest hour nor his most groundbreaking, but just having him on the scene is enough--even if all he’s able to do is spread joy.

This is an enormously enjoyable album that doesn’t just deliver on its kitsch potential; it also makes you feel both moved and exhilarated.

Elephants on Acid is a frustrating listen, flitting between the unbeatable glory of Cypress Hill’s 90s and the eventual journey into middling experimental rap that followed.

Too many songs blur into the next (‘Interlocking’ and ‘All Out of Catastrophes’, to name just a couple). Perhaps it’s due to Nadler’s dependence on certain vocal patterns and a no-frills, three/four guitar chord approach. Simple song structures aren’t to be scoffed at, but trouble lands when things become a little too predictable.

Given that it documents a romantic life that’s apparently hurtling out of control, My Mind Makes Noises makes for a remarkably trim and measured collection of songs. Both hands are on the wheel, and this album will crank things up a gear for Pale Waves.

This time around, though, the band operates with a little more future-facing pride and compulsion. It’s a lesson on how to do it yourself, and do it well. Defiance never sounded so good.

Far from making vague allusions to the events prior to Iridescence, Brockhampton lay them bare, atop some of their most adventurous work to date.

Villagers fans will no doubt love this record, which has the capacity to obtain a new fanbase with O’Brien’s newly found sound.

On the evidence of Chris--a deft and bogglingly-intelligent record, which somehow sounds blissfully effortless too--she’s earned her own place in the pop icon history books.

While there’s a comforting familiarity that comes with all things Suede, it’s wonderfully shrouded on The Blue Hour by a very new, romantic and alluring strangeness. These are not hits to shake your bits to. Nor will these beats shake your meat. Rest assured, Suede remain the beautiful ones, but are just looking for beauty in ever more curious places.

Noname isn’t bringing us a romantic rags-to-riches story; here she acknowledges the pitfalls of fame (as well as the occasional perks) with whip-smart honesty. Just like ‘Telefone’, it’s flawless.

True Meanings tends to blend into a lilting mush over the course of 14 tracks that rarely stray from the beige end of the sonic palette.